Result: Tottenham Hotspur 2-0 Manchester City (Premier League)
Venue: White Hart Lane (Sunday 2nd October 2016, 2.15pm)
Following last seasons trip to Chelsea and on the late-evening coach journey back from London, the subject of our next venture was quickly brought up. Unsurprisingly I didn’t hesitate in bringing up, the soon to be lost, White Hart Lane for the trip and with my City-supporting pal Ashley in agreement with the fact that this would be a good outing, it was set in stone that we would be off here, if circumstance allowed, during Season 2016-’17.
Fast-forward to September and with tickets and travel sorted and with thanks to my Dad on getting us there for 6.30am, we once again found ourselves waiting in the lovely surroundings of Manchester Shudehill, alongside a number of “other football” fans heading to Wembley for their strange version and the odd-drunk still making their way home after a heavy outing over the previous evening. Our Megabus (more on them later) arrived and we were soon whisked onwards towards the Capital.
After having the morning’s journey ably passed with help from the Malaysian GP, we were soon into the winding streets leading towards Victoria coach station. Eventually, we pulled into the station and were swiftly making our way over to the rail interchange of the same name, where we would catch the tube through to Seven Sisters station. After a 5-hour trip down, I was in desperate need of some sort of liquid to quench my thirst and oh, how luck would have it (obviously, there was no research into this), there was a Wetherspoons right in front of us. I was soon joined by a 5AM Saint, in lieu of a lack of Punk IPA, with my phone gaining some much-needed energy, following the amount I’d forced it into using on the way down.
Soon enough, we descended into the underground station, along with the masses, with my railcard coming in more than handy, to ensure an all-zone ticket for £8.00, over Ashley’s return of just under £10. For a 20 minute journey. How does anyone afford this regularly?! Anyway, payment complete and ticket in hand, we were through the gates and swiftly onto one of the regular trains over to Seven Sisters.
After being mistaken for a girl’s Dad upon reaching the top of the escalator, much to their amusement (though I hope I don’t look so old yet), we undertook the 30 minute walk down the bustling street, heading for the large white and blue-clad cranes tasked with the sad mission of demolishing the great, old stadium. Having arrived with time in hand, we agreed on heading straight for the ground as to beat most of the rush and to secure some food without the requirement of a queue. After purchasing a bog-standard programme (£3.50) from directly outside the turnstile, we were soon inside, after a search of both body and bag (happily not together in one word). A quick shout here for the Spurs stewards, who were really courteous and friendly towards the tasks. When you can share a quip with a steward, you know they’re good.
Through the turnstiles with success, we were into the concourse and after a quick visit to the facilities, it was to the food bars for a pair of Steak & Ale pies, complete with printed logo on top, for £4.00 a pop. They were ok, nothing too special though, as to be expected I guess. After finding our seats, we soon found ourselves in the midst of a conversation between two City fans, berating the fact that a foreign fan had got a ticket for the game, thus robbing it off an “actual” fan. “Head down, head down” I thought. Would I survive two hours? Well, you know the answer, unless this is all being written by a ghost…on that note watch the film with Ewan McGregor in by that name. It’s great. I did, however, sort of like City during their time in the lower leagues and Paul Dickov’s goal against Gillingham still sticks in my mind, so let me off here guys!
Anyway, as most of you know what the make-up of White Hart Lane is (seats, lots of seats) with a gaping hole in the far corner to the away end, where I was excited to be under the futuristic-looking police-box, let’s move straight on to the history of Tottenham Hotspur Football Club…
Founded in 1882, Tottenham Hotspur first competed in the Southern League from 1896, winning it in 1900 and remained here through until 1908 when they were elected to the Football League’s 2nd Division. Their first major success came in the form of the 1901 FA Cup, making Spurs the first non-league club since the formation of the Football League to win it. 1909 saw Spurs promoted to Division 1 as runners-up, where they remained until relegation in 1915.
Upon resumption of football after the war, 1920 saw Spurs back in Division One as Division 2 champions to prior season. 1920-’21 saw a second FA Cup lifted as well as being league runners-up. Relegated again in 1928, they were promoted again in 1933 as runners-up, but a short two season stay back in the top division is all that followed. The end of WWII thankfully arrived and 1950 saw Spurs again back in the top division as Division 2 champions, but this time with much more success, as Spurs took their first Football League title.
Spurs won the League & Cup double in 1961 and successfully defended the Cup the following season. 1963 saw Tottenham become the first British club to win a UEFA club competition, in the shape of the Cup Winners’ Cup and 1967 saw the FA Cup lifted for a once again. The 1970’s featured a UEFA Cup win in 1972, with Spurs becoming the first British club to win two different major European trophies. A pair of League Cups (1971 & ’73) also arrived during the decade, though a low note came with relegation in 1977, promotion was again quickly attained the next season.
The 1980’s proved a highly successful period for the club, with two more FA Cups (’81 & ’82) joining the trophy cabinet, alongside the Charity Shield and the UEFA Cup in 1984. The 1990’s saw the club become founder members of the Premiership, but also less silverware. An 8th FA Cup win in 1991, along with the 1999 League Cup was all that came to fruition during this time, the ’99 League Cup being their last trophy win until the 2008 competition.
The latter success did however mean that Spurs became only the second club, along with Manchester United, to win a major trophy over each of the last six decades but is their last silverware so far, though Spurs did record a Premier League-best 3rd place last season.
The sides came out to the strains of Obi-Wan (oh, look McGregor gets another shout) and Anakin’s final battle in the Revenge of the Sith Star Wars film and they were soon underway and Spurs quickly took on the role of the aggressor, with City taking on the “You underestimate my power” over-confidence that the soon-to-be-Vader played host to. It was little surprise, therefore, when the hosts took the lead; Aleksandar Kolarov putting Danny Rose’s cross into his own net, via the underside of the cross-bar.
Spurs were all-over the visitors and the optimism that filled the away support’s ranks at kick-off quickly changed to one of apprehension, especially when it came to anything to do with Kolarov or indeed Claudio Bravo, who is the proverbial rabbit-in-the-headlights when he has the ball at his feet under any pressure. He was helpless when Christian Eriksen bent a free-kick inches wide of his right-hand post, following a rash Nicolas Otamendi challenge, but Dele Alli soon added the second, as he broke the offside trap and slotted unerringly past Bravo, following good work by the outstanding Heung-Min Son.
City did have the odd chance during the first period, usually coming in the guise of Sergio Aguero, though they never truly threatened Hugo Lloris. Half-time and a very convincing 2-0 lead to Spurs and by now the atmosphere in the fans had changed from one of apprehension to quiet acceptance and resignation of how this one was going to end. There was still a bit of optimism and why not, look at the team and the manager, but this never looked like being anything other than a first defeat of the season for City from here.
The second half was soon kicking-off and, to be honest, there was still a good pact to the game, as to be expected in the PL, but little in terms of pure goalmouth action. The best chances came with Aguero striking the post via Lloris’ unorthodox save, where he almost let the ball escape his grasp and cross the line, before Spurs had the chance to well and truly take the points, as Dele Alli was taken out in the box, but Erik Lamela’s spot-kick was well stopped by the Chilean Bravo.
With Rose getting more and more grief as the game went on for his OTT theatrics, including a miraculous recovery from one challenge, thus City also began to take the game to the hosts for the first time, the only issue being there was only around 10 minutes remaining in the game. Kelechi Iheanacho’s weak effort was comfortably saved by Lloris, before Spurs’ French glove-man brilliantly tipped over Aguero’s dipping efforts, whilst back-peddling while off-balance. Great save! This pretty much ended the game, as Tottenham held out fairly easily for a fine win and to cue the sounds of “Glory, Glory Tottenham Hotspur” to fill the Lane again.
Heading back out the ground, we swiftly made our way back towards Seven Sisters and once again jumped immediately onto a train heading back to Victoria. Upon our arrival back at the station, Ashley had decided that he needed some food and this turned into a bit of wild goose chase, involving seeing a number of supercars lining the streets and the house where Mozart created his first symphony, or so the plaque claims. Anyway, we eventually found ourselves back at Victoria and the station’s Burger King outlet, before heading back for our coach at 6.30. OH AND HERE THE FUN BEGINS!
So, we arrived back at the coach station for 6pm, only to see the word “Delayed” plastered upon the screens above our gate. Not to worry, particularly, as the coach prior to ours arrived with a 15 minute delay and was soon on its way. So, we waited. And waited. And waited. Oh, and waited. Now, I like to think I’m…fairly patient, but once it approaches an hour with next to no information, I begin to get a bit pissed off. Then I get sarcastic with comments and generally, I guess, be a bit of a dick. But, its deserved when this happens, so MegaBus, I want our £25 taxi reimbursed. That obese cartoon conductor with his thumb up and smiley-face was rubbing it in even more and….
OK, I’ve had half-an-hour off, so can complete now after getting that rant out of my system! Anyway, that’s about it. It was great to tick White Hart Lane off before the end of the historic ground’s life and everything about the day up until about 6.02pm was great. Cheers to Ashley for sorting out the tickets and there may be another trip in the future, so long as no-one links my blog to my appearance and robs my ticket for a fan. Fingers crossed…
Value For Money: 4 (thanks to Megabus. Never again to London!)