Those are the grounds I ever visited in England. But there are few missing on the list that I wish to see. Newcastle's St. James Park is certainly up there, but there is one stadium I always wanted to go to. And this was my last chance.
I always liked Spurs. Maybe it's due to the fact that they hate Arsenal, but they also play great football, have some decent players in the squad, very good managers and loud fans. Seeing them succeed lately by NEARLY winning the league (again) felt good. I'd much rather see them lifting a trophy than bloody Scousers or City. Anyway I wanted visit White Hart Lane ever since I saw the pictures of it, yet this was my last opportunity to do so. Funnily enough it was the big club from Manchester to challenge Tottenham to defend finishing their last ever season at the Lane unbeaten.
I spent all Friday on the phone sorting out tickets to an away end. It would cost me £200 what is quite a number. I was on the edge, bearing in mind that this was my last chance to go to the place, I would experience my first away United game, there would be playing two top teams and the demand for the tickets was unbelievable. Still it was a high price. The deciding point was my visit to Upton park in 2012. What a beautiful ground and they just abandoned it for that big shithole called Olympic stadium. Don't get me wrong, it is nice and that, but I don't think there was any need in getting a new ground. Especially that far from the old one. It has nothing to do with proper English historical way of stadiums were built. It has its own thing. To be so close to the players is like you are on the pitch yourself. There is nothing like it in the world and you have to experience it to admire those grounds. So to see one of those to be knocked down is quite hart-breaking. In the end the things turned out as they did and I was nervously waiting for the postman to knock on the door on Saturday morning. If he never delivered the tickets, I would only be able to collect them on Monday, so a huge relief hit me when I was finally tearing that envelope. The guy would only give me two tickets together, so I had to sort out the other one out. Although I didn't know anyone who would want to go. Not anyone in London anyway. But that wasn't my biggest worry as it would not significantly affect the price I paid.
The Sunday was finally here and I was getting ready for the showing off with masterclass in local Sunday league. It didn't go too well and I was only hoping I wouldn't have to watch anything similar this afternoon. I wanted to have a little time before the game so I legged it after half time. We were surprisingly only 1-0 down when I left. With the way we were playing and chances they missed it was a result that we could be more than happy with.
I was on my way home. When I got out of the bus I popped in the local off-license to tool me up with some beer cans for the road. I opened a bottle of Pilsner as soon as I stepped into my flat. Had a shower and a little rest and off I went in my United shirt. I was a bit concerned walking around Spurs fans in Man Utd shirt, but I thought it shouldn't be such a big issue. When I changed at green park I noticed few Spurs fans around, but no one seemed to be bothered about what I was wearing. At my other change at seven sisters my heart started beating a bit faster. There were a couple of fans in white and I was just hoping to spot at least one similar brave man like me. When I got off at White Hart Lane station I felt like Eminem in a rap club. Everyone was still cool with me wandering around the streets in red. So I got to the ground. First thing that hit your eye is a massive round wall in process of building. The new ground was in early stages, but I could see the whole thing built and that image looked incredible. I was wondering why on earth would they get rid of such a beautiful place as White Hart Lane, but I could see something, new, something better, something remarkable was coming in Tottenham's way. I walked round the massive thing and there she was, I pictured it rather differently and more modern than it actually was. Anyway I was still trying to find my way through massive crowd of white, to the turnstiles for away fans, hoping to see some people in familiar shirts. There must have been hundreds of supporters, but I was definitely standing out with that shirt. When I got to South stand I finally noticed few away fans. I was still admiring the stadium from outside and I could see why it needed changing. Rusty and old. I went on to find some pub stuffed with reds, but after walking for few minutes I found only one with whites. I didn't want to go too far as you never know what might happen. I just sat down and opened my Guinness. I went back to the ground and walked past. Maybe I'll have better luck the other way. After I noticed the first one was for home fans I just gave up. I also read that it is hard to find that kind of pub. So I just went to the side road and opened my third beer of the day. I stood there as one guy came up to me asking me for a spare ticket. I obviously still had one, but I wasn't sure he was an United fan. After he showed me a membership card from last season I had no doubt and sold him the ticket. He then introduced me to his son and his son's girlfriend. They also needed a ticket to get in, but I couldn't help them anymore. I just stood there having a chat when a guy came up to me sayin' I was an idiot. He probably noticed what I was wearing. So I just smiled and congratulated him on putting pressure on Chelsea. I went to get a match programme. What would be a better memory than a programme? This is perhaps what a programme directors were thinking too, because they put the price on it of £10. Ten fucking pounds! Cheeky greedy sods. So I headed empty-handed inside. I was hoping there will be a couple of lads already half-wasted singing and drinking, as I saw in Wembley. To my disappointment there were just few people drinking quietly. So I just ordered a pint and started looking around the walls with all the names that ever played at WHL. I found myself stunned in surprise when I saw Slovan Bratislava in there. It made me laugh even more as it was next to Manchester United. So I went to my seat to see what my view is going to be. As I walked out I was amazed. The stadium is great. I was thanking myself for deciding to go. After few moments a went for another beer and pie. After that I walked to my seat again, but only now it was just few minutes till kick-off and the stands were packed. Everyone started waving their flags as the players came out of the tunnel what created a fantastic atmosphere.
Soon the game kicked off along with perhaps the loudest chanting I have ever heard. It was unbelievable. I was very glad to watch Premier league live again. My excitement didn't last very long, when Wanyama headed the ball past De Gea. It wasn't very good performance from the lads, but managed to keep it only one goal difference. My throat had enough after a couple of songs I screamed, but I still kept going. I just couldn't stop. What annoyed me though was 'Follow, follow' chant. Not that it's any bad or anything, but they were singing it way too often. They don't have much to sing about this season, but I was getting sick of the chant.
After halftime and a beer with Costa (I swear to God it was him, although he claimed that he is only a lookalike) I went to slightly different spot to watch the game from. Only when I turned round to start watching, Man U conceded second. Harry Kane, the king of Lane. There was a practically no chance of turning this game round with the team that was on the pitch, but the belief was still there. Anyway, it was painful to watch, but with every passing minute I tried to sink in every inch and every detail of White Hart Lane to my memory. Wayne brought my hopes back after netting one back to make it 2-1. After that United were trying, but not enough. Little raindrops landed on the fourth referee's board as he was showing the amount of stoppage time. Everyone was waving their flags again and the scenes were thrilling. I wished for only one more goal so we have something to cheer about, but my wishes never came true.
The ref whistled for the last time and everyone ran onto the pitch. It was celebration like no other. Well, in fact it wasn't even a celebration. It was a goodbye.
All I can say is 'Well done Spurs'. What a season for them to finish unbeaten at their own ground. Only that title that would put the icing on the cake, but this was sweet enough. It was very emotional. The end of a huge exciting era.
It was a perfect farewell. And when I say perfect, everything went according to plan. Even a beautiful rainbow over the Lane came to say goodbye.On my way home there was full train of fans. Both white and red. As we got off at Seven Sisters some brave guy in front started singing the old familiar Stockholm song. After a couple of fans around joined in I did not hesitate and had one last shout. Walking down the stairs to the tube station I was banging my hand to the rhythm of the chants so hard, it turned red immediately and hurt for next few minutes. Some lads in Spurs shirts started pointing at me to which I replied with 'You NEARLY won the league' The chant that carried on until I jumped on the tube. Journey home was long, but safe. And those memories will stay with me forever. Because only them will remain of that magical place.
What a day! Certainly worth it! To miss a visit to White Hart Lane would be a big mistake. Luckily enough I managed to avoid it. There is an exciting future waiting for north Londoners in the new modern bigger better ground. Hopefully I'll have a look at that one anytime soon. All I can say for now is: Good luck in the new home, Spurs!
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