a wonderful, wonderful day
One recounting of a great day out.
The plan was to meet in Harrow; get the tickets off Ross; go to Wembley; smash the Chelsea and go home for beer and pies. Hurrah.
I left me front door about 8.30 a.m. It was a beautiful spring morning. As I looked up at that sunny sky, I was thinking Spurs play better when the sun is shining. Maybe, just maybe.
Got me NoTW from the paper shop ... the owner's an Asian bloke. He knew me old man ... he's a y*d. Said he would be going, but he's got kids and that and he asked me if I knew of any spare tickets going. Said "Sorry mate." We had a chat about the game. As I left his shop he says to me make sure you come back with more than your leaving with mate. Y*DDO!
Got to the Chef's Delight cafe on Wood Green High Road. They got a flat screen telly in there, so was watching the highlights of MoTD as I ate me full English, but with double mushrooms instead of beans (Sorry Andy we know he loves beans on his roast!!). When the plate comes to me table I may be wrong, but I recall that I get a polite smattering of applause from the other diners in the cafe as me impressively large breakfast is brought to me table. I am aiming for an internal island of grease upon which there will be a lake of alcohol.
I finish me brekkie about 9.30 a.m. It costs about £7.50. I tip 'em a fiver. Why not ? Spurs are in a final today ... anything goes mate.
Jump on a train; have an uneventful trip to Kings X, but I can see that a few y*ds are already making their way to Wembley with their funny hats and even one Israel flag.
I get to King's X; meet Dutch Garry and Sean S. They are talking to some Mackem who was happy, mainly because the Barcodes had been spanked by Manure the previous day.
Me, Sean and DG get on the train. They are wearing the commemorative white and sky blue shirts. I remember Sean was in two minds about wearing colours in case we lost and you have to put up with taunts from Chelski idiots sitting there in your Spurs shirt. Sean wearing his shirt is a real act of faith.
Y*ds who ain't making it to the game stop us on the way to the Metropolitan line to tell us we're gonna go do it today mate !! I'm starting to get excited.
We get on the train. I get a text just after Baker Street. I've got the Chas 'n' Dave "We're off to Wembley coz we beat the Arsenal" ring tone. It's a text from me friend Marisa. She finishes her text with three little words: "We Hate Chelsea."
"I'll have to marry this girl," I says to DG. I tell them she has her "We Hate Chelsea" badge in her jewellery box as a prized possession and they concur that she sounds top.
We all look out the window as we see the Wembley Arch. A load of y*ds get off at Wembley Park. I only see one Chelsea. I text Hairy Wael. We stay on the tube to go to Harrow on the Hill.
Sean talks about the bloke he travels away with taking a bible with him ... DG pisses himself between Northwick Park to Harrow on the Hill about it.
We get off in Harrow and stumble around looking for the Yates bar we're supposed to meet Ross in. I telephone the place, they tell me where it is, but we go in another pub called the Moon on the Hill as they have Sky Sports in there and so we decide to go in there and have a swift one and then make our way to Yates when Ross gets there.
The day before Eduardo that Ars*nal player gets his leg broke in two places after a nasty tackle from a Brum player called Martin Taylor.
I get the first round in DG - Guinness what else ? ... Spurs and Guinness its the only reasons he comes to England - Sean has a pint of a brew called Dirty Tackle.
I get a text followed by a call from HW who has already started moaning about the Victoria line and what a journey he's having, etc., etc. He does say (and this does interest me) he can't see any Chelsea anywhere ... its all Spurs everywhere.
The pub is filling up now ... all Spurs. Some geezer puts a Big Spurs flag up in the window - a St George Cross with T H F and C in each of the four white squares and "10:53 club" across the red traverse bar.
It falls down because the geezer putting it up doesn't have enough Blu-tack ... we all think "I hope that ain't a bad omen for today."
I get a call from HW again. He's at Harrow. I direct him to the pub. Sean gets a round in. Guinness for HW ... another Guinness drinker. A group of y*ds in the corner have an inflatable sex doll with a Spurs shirt on and they are chucking it around the pub to cheers and there's much laughter. One bloke catches and pretends to snog it .
Wael turns up and we give him his Guinness, so he can stop moaning for five minutes !!
I get a phone call from Ross. I suggest abandoning the Yates meeting and tell him to meet at the pub we're in. I say it's all Spurs in here. He says yes. I say get here soon ... Hairy; he's giving me earache.
Two Chelsea fans in their lovely blue shirts consider coming in the pub and a chant goes up "Y*d Army Y*d Army" and they decide against it. HW loves that.
Ross and Jean turn up. More Beer. HW takes the tickets and puts them in his pocket. The comment is made that if he p*sses himself later we hope it don't moisten the tickets.
Matty, Ross' sparring partner who married a Kiwi, turns up. More Beer.
There's is footage on the screen of Eduardo getting his leg broke from the horrendous tackle from Martin Taylor of Birmingham. Eduardo doesnít get any sympathy from the y*ds in the pub. He's Arse ... he's a Gooner, so they cheer every time the footage comes on and eventually a chant goes up:
"What's that hanging out of yer sock? Is it yer ankle? Is it yer ankle?"
It starts off the singing in earnest. We all have a good sing song and five pints of Magners Irish Cider later, I stumble out the boozer and we all go off to Wembley.
At Wembley Park the sight at the top of the stairs is great. We walk down Wembley Way, Ross and Jean take photos of the day.
The rival fans are filtered to their respective ends by the Old Bill; at their closest point there are vituperative insults between the fans, but we don't concentrate on that. We say goodbye to Sean and Matty and go inside the ground, queue up for a programme £6.00. After queuing up I see Luke Young ... he plays for Boro now, but he was with us during the dark days of the Gooner who was our manger when we last won this bleedin' trophy. Ross goes over and gets his picture taken with him ... Y*d-do.
It does not seem long before the teams come out we are all in white them in blue. Here we go ... 90 minutes away from a trophy and European football next season. No win, no Europe. We ain't gonna win the UEFA Cup.
COME ON YOU SPURS ....
end of part one
15:02 Referee Mark Halsey blows his Cup final whistle and Chelsea kick off the Carling Cup final.
The Y*ds are in good voice. I am so nervous I can hardly sing, but I suddenly find my voice:
CO-ME ON YOO SPURS COME ON YOU SPURS COME ON YOU SPURS
15:02 Juliano Belletti gives the ball away and Robbie Keane is clean through, but his shot is deflected narrowly wide by John Terry. From the corner, Didier Drogba clears under pressure from Ledley King. Calamitous start from Chelsea.
Ha ha Belleti yer Chavski muppet. Go ... On Keano, Go On. We all stand up ... is this going to be a dream start ? Corner. Leds ... go on my son ... OOOH!
15:07 The Chelsea forward line are pretty much bystanders at the moment, because it's all Tottenham in the opening minutes.
15:10 Pascal Chimbonda's looping far-post header hits the top of the bar and moments later, Dimitar Berbatov heads wastefully wide from a Robbie Keane cross. I say again; it's all Tottenham.
Chim-BondAAA OOO! Ah come on Berba mate COME ON TOTTENHAM !! Tottenham are running the show here they are going for it mate.
We give them support : Tott-enham Tott-enham Tott-enham Tott-enham Tott-enham Tott-en haaam Tott-enham Tott-enham Tott-enham Tott- en-haam (arms out nice and wide) TOTT-EN HAM !!!
15:20 John Terry pulls back Dimitar Berbatov to give away a free-kick. Jermaine Jenas floats it into the box where an unmarked Jonathan Woodgate is unable to get any direction on his header. Poor marking from Chelsea.
Free Kick. "F*** Off Terry you ret*rd " shouts HW. An expectant roar rises amongst the Y*ds - an acknowledgement that this situation has potential for a goal. Woody WOOO-DEEE !!! ... Awwww ! Massive groan. But we start applauding. Spurs are going for it and we are responding to their efforts. Chelsea are doing sweet FA.
15:21 "I would like to see Tottenham move the ball about
quicker, if they do they'll cause Chelsea problems."
15:30 Robbie Keane chests the ball down for Steed Malbranque, whose fierce left-foot shot is turned around the post by Petr Cech.
Keano's got nice control with the chest. We stand up again. The people behind are getting p*ssed off with us - but they ain't said anything. I'm a big bloke !! Nice control Keano. Nice STEEEEEEED. COME YOUR SPURS ! COME ON YOU SPURS ! There is an acknowledgement of Malbranque's effort. STEEEEEED !!
15:34 A clumsy challenge by Didier Zokora on Shaun Wright-Phillips gives Chelsea a free-kick from 25 yards. Didier Drogba blasts it high and wide.
We all adopt the classic pose when an opposing team blast it high and wide. We all stand up with our arms open wide - as if to suggest that that he couldn't hit Vanessa Feltz's arse if she was bending over three yards in front of him !! Traditionally it is accompanied by a good natured ironic ... YAAAY !!!
15:39 GOAL Tottenham 0-1 Chelsea
Didier Zokora gets the first yellow of the game for a foul on Didier Drogba, who steps up to put the 25-yard free-kick in the gaping hole to Paul Robinson's left. Major question mark over the keeper's positioning there. Major.
"Zokora ... stop giving away free-kicks !!" shouts Ross. Drogba's gonna take it. I start to get the feeling Drogba might do better with this one ... GOAL. Sh*t. Those Blue muppets down the other end, who have hardly sung anything, go mental. No-one criticises Robbo ... maybe Jean says something. They don't deserve this. After celebrating for two minutes those Chavski mugs have all gone quiet again. We have to bring this fact to their attention the y*ds sing: "YOUR SUPPORT YOUR SUPPORT YOUR SUPPOPRT IS F***ING SH*T YOUR SUPPORT IS F**-*ING SH*T "
15:46 A lovely passing move from Tottenham. Robbie Keane slips the ball through for Dimitar Berbatov, but the Bulgarian slips, allowing Petr Cech to collect.
Yessss ... Yess ... Tottenham ... That's it. Let's show these !! Nice One Keano ... Berba ... AWWW! (massive groan). Same old story these blues have done nothing and Spurs have bossed it but we are behind !!
15:48 "Spurs' worst fears are realised as all their
pressure and chances come to nothing and Chelsea deliver the sucker
punch. Didier Drogba's free-kick has really been taken the wind out of
the Spurs fans' sails. Chelsea's supporters had, like their team, been
strictly second best until just after the half-hour, but it's the old
story - fail to put Avram Grant's side away and they will come back to
bite you. Big test for Spurs now."
15:49 HALF-TIME Tottenham 0-1 Chelsea
16:06 Carling promised to donate up to £20,000 to the Bobby Moore Fund for Cancer Research UK if people were back in their seats in time for the start of the second half at Wembley. It hasn't worked. Wembley is half-empty as Tottenham kick off the second half. No changes on either side.
Where are all those Chelsea mugs ? The stadium's half-empty... probably drinking their lattes the bunch of plastic fans that they are !!
16:17 Didier Drogba has picked up a knock, so he's gone out left for the moment, with Nicolas Anelka going central. Meanwhile, Aaron Lennon is so isolated on the right wing, he has come infield to see if he can say hello to the ball.
16:19 Looks like Tom Huddlestone will be coming on shortly, as Juande Ramos looks to shake things up. Meanwhile, Didier Drogba looks OK again, but remains out wide on the left and it's raining quite heavily.
16:22 Pascal Chimbonda is the man to make way as Tom Huddlestone comes on. The Frenchman is seething, ignoring Juande Ramos and stalking off down the tunnel. Childish. Steed Malbranque is at left-back, Aaron Lennon on the left wing, Jermaine Jenas on the right and Huddlestone in the middle.
Come on Chimbonda ... stop acting like a berk and get off the pitch. "That's a disgrace," says Ross. "Pathetic retard," says HW. Chimbonda goes down the tunnel ... what that all about ? Oh, well ... here comes Huddlestone:
OH TOMMY TOMMY - TOMMY TOMMY TOMMY TOMMY HUDDLESTONE
OH TOMMY TOMMY - TOMMY TOMMY TOMMY TOMMY HUDDLESTONE
16:27 "Good change from Juande Ramos - although the
petulant Pascal Chimbonda may not agree. On comes Tom Huddlestone, but
the key move is switching Aaron Lennon up against Juliano Belletti. Spurs need more invention from somewhere because Berbatov and Keane are
now being kept in check by Terry and Carvalho - and all the time is that
lurking threat of a Chelsea counter-attack. You can sense inside Wembley
that we are now reaching a crucial phase of the cup final."
16:29 Penalty to Tottenham.
Wayne Bridge handles the ball as he challenges Tom Huddlestone in the box - a great spot by the referee's assistant.
Nice one Keano ... good work on the left good cross. Go on Tommy son ... HANDBAAAALL !!! Who handled it ? Bridge ? Wayne Bridge's handled it in the box !! Must be a penalty ... YESSS !!!! The ref's given it after consulting with the Lino. F**k Off Terry ... he's trying to talk to the ref ... He's given it you mug. He's in charge not you !! I can't watch. I can't breath. Ross and DG look like they are praying. We are all blowing. Berba, after waiting a little while, steps up .......
16:30 GOAL Tottenham 1-1 Chelsea
Dimitar Berbatov waits for Petr Cech to commit himself before putting the ball in the opposite corner. That's spiced it up a bit, hasn't it ?
GOAAAAL !!!! Pandemonium. DG is jumping on me. HW has gone mental and we are all hugging and jumping up and down ... Berba was so cool taking that penalty !!
16:36 "Spurs are back in it and Chelsea are furious. As
Spurs celebrated a brilliantly executed penalty by Berbatov, Petr Cech
raced from his goal to have words with the linesman, as did John Terry -
although there is no surprise there. Terry's desire to referee the game
as well as captain Chelsea is a major flaw. It's game on again. Spurs
are pumped and they must guard against over-excitement."
16:33 Chelsea make their first change with Shaun Wright-Phillips coming off to be replaced by Salomon Kalou.
F**k off You Hobbit Wright Phillips!!!
16:36 A second change from Juande Ramos sees Teemu Tainio replace Steed Malbranque.
We celebrate Malbranque's contribution: STEEEEEEED !! Now let's win this game. COME ON YOU SPURS ! COME ON YOU SPURS !
16:42 Oh my word. I'll say it again. Oh my word. Chelsea's offside trap is sprung by Didier Zokora. The midfielder's initial shot is well saved by Petr Cech and he puts the rebound over the bar. Zokora has his head in his hands - as does every single Tottenham fan, I would think.
Oh, Keano ... nice ball ... Zokora's through ... he must score, he must score ... he shoots Cech saves with his face ... nice one ... Zokora has the rebound ... NOOOOOOOOOOO !!! ... he's blasted it over ... we all have our heads in our hands. I look over at Ross he looks downcast ... "We've lost this," he says. I ain't convinced, but I say nothing. We can still win it in normal time. Chelsea ain't really doing much and they seem there for the taking.
16:44 "Tottenham are looking the more likely. That was a
great opportunity for Zokora - he should have put the ball in the net
when the ball rebounded to him."
16:45 Petr Cech to the rescue again as Dimitar Berbatov turns sharply on the edge of the box and shoots. This is a pulsating end to the game. Six minutes remaining.
Nice ball to Berba ... OOOOO ! ... Good turn and shot applause from the y*ds !!
16:47 Michael Essien floats a long ball over the Tottenham defence to Didier Drogba, but the striker is just caught on the back foot and can't stretch out a leg to bring the ball down. That's Essien's last contribution as he comes off to be replaced by Michael Ballack.
16:51 Three minutes of added time start now...
The Yids are hoping we can nick it and we get the SPURS in the final minutes of the game "We are Tottenham, we are Tottenham, Super Tottenham, from the Lane, we are Tottenham, Super Tottenham, we are Tottenham from the Lane !!"
16:52 "Spurs are in the ascendancy, backed by a support
that senses a great chance to knock Chelsea off their perch - fans were
holding their heads in their hands all around Wembley as Zokora took
several touches when one would have done before firing straight at Petr
Cech. And yet, like a great champion keeping back on last knockout blow,
Chelsea are refusing to give way to Spurs' supremacy."
16:54 FULL-TIME Tottenham 1-1 Chelsea
Another chance for Tottenham goes begging at the death. It was a difficult one though, Robbie Keane firing an overhead kick over from a few yards out. Into extra time we go.
It is looking like extra time. Unless we nick it ... Come on Keano !! OOOh !! Didn't he have time to take that down ?? Why try an overhead kick ? "His back was to goal," says HW.
Full time whistle blows ... I tell 'em I had a full English this morning and that they are responsible for carrying my bulk down the escalators of Wembley if I prematurely expire before the end of extra time.
End of Part 2
As players move from the huddle around Ramos, Iím thinking it can be cruel following Spurs. It would be cruel if we were to lose this now. But Iím trying to stay positive ...
A roar begins to rise as the push for home begins:
17:00 We're under way in the first period of extra-time...
17:03 GOAL Tottenham 2-1 Chelsea
Disaster for Chelsea. Petr Cech was the Chelsea hero at the end of that second half, but he's undone all that good work. He comes to collect Jermaine Jenas' floated free-kick, but punches it straight on to Jonathan Woodgate's face and the ball bounces over the line.
Free kick. "Come on JJ," says Ross. He floats it in ... Woody ... WOOOODEEE !!! Heís only GONE AND F**KING SCORED !!!! We are going mental. DG, Hairy, Ross and Jean and me are in a group hug, jumping up and down. DG is shaking the hands of the people behind us who we were p*ssing off in the second half
Tott-en-ham, Tott -en-ham, Tott-en- ham
Tott-en-ham, Tott -en-ham, Tott-en- ha-am
Tott-en-ham, Tott -en-ham, Tott-en- ham
Tott-en-ham, TOTT-EN ĖHAM!!
CLAP CLAP CLAP-CLAP Ė CLAP -CLAP ĖCLAP Y*DS !!
The y*ds are getting behind the lads now and those no mark Chavski fans are as quiet as church mice ... not a dickie bird from those mugs ... just encourages us to keep on singing our lads home to victory.
The only time they make any noise is when that ex-Iron Cole comes on.
17:06 "When the ball was played in, there were only three
Spurs players to Chelsea's seven. Cech came for the ball for some
reason. He didn't need to come for it. He created the chance for
17:08 Here comes Joe Cole, replacing Jon Mikel Obi. A bold substitution from Avram Grant. "Chelsea's fans give Joe Cole a rousing reception as he comes on - reflecting the fact that he should have been on about 30 minutes ago. If Chelsea win, Grant will be praised; if they lose, that decision might come back to haunt him."
Chelsea have just woken up and now realize they are losing to Spurs.
17:10 Frank Lampard whips in a free-kick from the left which is tipped over by Paul Robinson. Nothing doing from the corner. I think that's the first time I have mentioned Lampard in this game.
Aww ! Come on Robbo, you've got to catch that one. "Thereís not a lot he could have done about that," says Hairy, as if he played at international level for years.
17:12 A defensive move from Tottenham boss Juande Ramos as fans' favourite Robbie Keane is replaced by defender Younes Kaboul.
What take Keano Off .. !? We are all astounded ... what happens if the Chavski equalize ? Whose gonna take the penalties ... KEAN-O, THEREíS ONLY ONE KEAN-O, THEREíS ONLY KEANO, THEREíS ONLY ONE KEAN-O
As Spurs fans, we have been trained to think pessimistically. Ramos is going to win it in extra time. Heís protecting our lead.
17:15 Jermaine Jenas is left breathing heavily after a barnstorming run down the right. He wins a throw-in for his troubles. Great work from the England man.
17:17 HALF-TIME (extra-time) Tottenham 2-1 Chelsea
Tottenham must hold out for 15 minutes if they are to win their first silverware since 1999 ...
I tell Ross my heart canít take much more of this!! COME ON YOU SPURS, COME ON YOU SPURS
17:20 Gus Poyet gets a warning from the referee during the break for some back-chat directed at the fourth official. We're up and away in this second period of extra-time.
17:22 Tottenham have five at the back while Chelsea are playing 4-4-2, with Nicolas Anelka and Didier Drogba together up front.
17:26 As you might expect, Chelsea are dominating possession and their fans are calling for a penalty when Didier Drogba goes down under a challenge from Jonathan Woodgate. Drogba is offside anyway.
F***ING ĎELL Woody that was close. It looked like you were fondling Drogbaís tits mate !!
17:27 Salomon Kalou cuts the ball back to make space, but Paul Robinson saves the shot with his feet. Brilliant save.
Kalou has just fired one in and Robboís only saved it magnificently with his feet. He gets an instantaneous standing ovation from the y*ds : "Englandís, Englandís No 1. Englandís No1" !!
17:32 From a long ball, Joe Cole has a shot on goal, but it's easy for Paul Robinson. Chelsea have three minutes to force penalties.
The Chelsea mugs are starting to leave. That just encourages the y*ds to get more vocal. I am looking at the clock and think "Why isnít that going any faster ?"
17:33 Didier Zokora gallops forward from midfield once again, but this time, instead of shooting or passing or doing something sensible like taking it to the corner flag, he passes the ball to absolutely no one.
We are whistling Ö Come on that must be three minutes
17:35 After a spell of possession, Chelsea eventually work the ball to Juliano Belletti, who balloons a shot high over the bar. Terrible. Three minutes of added time remaining.
Hands wide apart ... YAAY
17:36 Chelsea have a corner ... Paul Robinson comes and doesn't collect - but a desperate barge from Joe Cole means he gets the free-kick. Into the last minute at Wembley.
Catch it Robbo !! ... Whew !! Free Kick for us Ö come on blow up ref !!!
17:38 FULL-TIME (extra-time) Tottenham 2-1 Chelsea
Oh MY GOD. Weíve won !! Hairy jumps on me, knocks me on me arse, me glasses fly off ... we are hugging each other in turn. Hairy jumps on me again and me glasses, which had just managed to keep hold of go flying again. We all end up jumping up and down.
"1-0 and you F**ked it up !!" we sing to Chelsea. We have come back from being 1-0 down to win 2-1 against Chelsea and prevented them from winning it three times in a row.
Iím a little shell shocked and a little overwhelmed. I have been wanting this for years.
OT 2001 ... beaten by the Scum in semi ... the long trip home.
2006 ... last game of the season losing Champions League footie to the Scum by losing at West Ham.
2007 ... Last season at Emirates those Gooners singing "2-0 and you f**ked it up," as they knocked us out of this competition.
The humiliations at Burnley and Grimsby and defeat by Birmingham at WHL, when the crowd which was about 20 thousand sang "Stand up if you hate Sugar" ... the incessant piss-taking by Spammers, Chavskis and Gooners. The false dawns Ö Iím tired of seeing other clubs excel. At last today we are getting ours. Brilliant. Iím welling up now.
The Tottenham celebrations begin after Jonathan Woodgate's extra-time winner from a mistake by Petr Cech. Didier Drogba, John Terry and Cech run straight to the referee to have a pointless moan, which is all very unseemly.
Thereís a mature fella in his 50ís in the row in front and he shakes our hands and he is crying and wiping his eyes. "Sorry mate," he says. I say "Itís alright fella, Iím crying meself."
17:42 "Spurs win the Carling Cup and deservedly so. It
was a victory for Ramos' ambition over the caution of Grant. And the
Spaniard, with two UEFA Cup wins on his CV, shows his pedigree again. Questions will be asked about Grant's team selection and tactics, while
White Hart Lane has a new hero in Ramos."
17:43 John Terry leads his team-mates on the slow trudge up the stairs to collect their losers' medals.
There is no-one left in the Chelsea end. "One-nil and you F**ked it up !!" the y*ds sing as Chelsea go up to collect their medals as runner-s up. Ha Ha ha ha ha "One-nil and you f**ked it up." The cockerel is singing again and it is beautiful, beautiful. Best bit is Terryís face he looked like heís been asked to swallow bucket load of sh*t. Terry is hurtiní and Iím loving it. Hurry up and pick up your pony medal. You ainít invited to this party. We beat you fair and square.
17:44 The Tottenham team are shaking hands with well wishers as they make the same journey up the Wembley steps. Skipper Ledley King is limping as he makes his way towards the trophy. He kisses it once before lifting it high to an enormous cheer from the Spurs fans. Jonathan Woodgate is handed the man of the match award. And deservedly so.
17:49 Tickertape, champagne, fireworks... you know the scenes. Tottenham begin the long night of celebrations. The Chelsea fans are long gone.
THE FIREWORKS are quite spectacular and then and the over the PA:
GLORY GLORY TOTTENHAM HOSTSPUR
GLORY GLORY TOTTENHAM HOTSPUR
GLORY GLORY TOTTENHAMHOTSPUR
AND THE SPURS GO MARCHING ONÖ
17:50 That was the first victory in an English Cup final for a team outside the 'big four' since 2004. Robbie Keane congratulates Juande Ramos by tipping a bottle of champagne on his head. Lovely stuff.
Look at Keanoís face. He is ecstatic. None of these young players have won anything; they are hungry for more Iím sure of it. Berba wonít give the Cup to anyone else. They were excellent ... well played Y*ddos. We eventually leave about half an hour after the game. We walk down the stairs singing as we go. I say to Ross and Hairy "One down one to go" Ö "Weíre all going on a European tour - AGAIN, a European tour - AGAIN, a European tour - AGAIN !!"
I feel exhausted, but happy and still a little dumbfounded. When we leave the stadium it is raining, but I canít feel it. I sound like Andie McDowall in "Four weddings and a funeral." We see faces of other y*ds we have seen as we have journeyed home and away following Spurs in Newcastle, Middlesbrough, Southampton, Manchester, Bolton, Blackburn, Mickey Mouse land, etcetera.
It feels as though we are walking around aimlessly in a daze, but we do have a plan.
We are looking for a boozer to hole up in until the crowd dies down and then back over to North London ... Tottenham to party until dawn.
We go in the Quality Hotel Wembley. More Magners and Guiness mate. We watch footage on the screen in the foyer once Jeanís got the beers in. We cheer to see Woodyís goal. Cech hits it back onto Woodyís nose and it goes into the goal.
Matty turns up. More Beer.
I speak with Sean and text him, but heís on his way back to Maidstone. I receive a text from my mate Joe. He says he was in the Chelsea end and it was agony, but him and his brother had a pint in the Ricky Villa bar which was in the Chelsea end beforehand for luck. We are both still buzzing from the experience of seeing the Spurs win their first trophy of 21st Century.
After we watch the highlights on Sky Sports news in the foyer we walk to Wembley Park.
At WP Matty is going Northbound or on the Jubilee, so we say goodbye to him. As we are standing on the southbound platform there is some handbags between some mature Chelsea and some Spurs yooth. A Metropolitan train comes in and the Old Bill take an age to come down and sort out the shenanigans.
We donít worry about that ... we want to get back to Tottenham before the pubs close.
We go to Kings X and take the Piccadilly to Manor House, then take a 259 down Seven Sisters to the Beehive. Hairy has got the word his mate Chris says there is a post Carling Cup disco going on down the Beehive. We stop off at some ropey fried chicken place in Tottenham High Road. I buy meself a burger, but I donít know if I can eat it all ... feeling a little tom.
Me and Jean wander over the Beehive. I have an orange juice, as I have not had any vitamin C all day, but would have thought there was loads in the Magners I was drinking. Its got apple in it donít it ?
At the Beehive, Aussie James and Hairyís mate Chris, who used to work in the Pat Jennings Lounge at WHL is there with Chrisí flat mate the enigmatic Fitz.
Anyway, I ain't feeling good enough to dance, but we have a good old sing song to some old pop hits and soul classics and then the highlights are shown on the flat screen TV in the pub. We watch the highlights again and cheer again when Woodyís goal goes in. I donít think Iíll ever get tired of seeing that go in ... Nope. We still won that cup.
Thereís a nice barmaid in the Beehive called Toni Ė who I kissed once at the end of the season. [What's a birdís season look like ?] "How can you kiss that Gooner ?" DG chided me. He always scowls a little when he sees her; he canít stand Gooners.
She was asking us why we hadnít been in for such a while. I said Hairy thinks there are too many Gooners in here and he donít wanna drink with Gooners on match days. Toni asks me to ask Ross if he would give her his Carling Cup flag for her son who she is bring up a Y*d ... very commendable. Ross has already promised it to someone else.
Ross and Jean are taking photos of Hairy dancing to Phil Collins. Thereís a wiry Asian bloke with a long ponytail and a goatee who takes photos of us holding the flag. A bloke called Simon, who is p*ssed, keeps on saying he likes me .. . I buy him a pint of Guiness. Why the hell not ? We won the Carling Cup anything goes. Everyone keeps on asking me if I am alright. I guess because I look nauseous or because I didnít buy a half a chicken in the fried chicken shop or I blubbed like a little girl at the final whistle.
The vitamin C in the orange juice Iím drinking helps and although I canít be arsed to dance, I do get in the mood for a sing-song. I get a second wind.
I have work the next day and so I, with Ross and Jean, leave the pub. Hairy, James, DG and Chris are gonna cane it Ďtill the early hours. But before we leave, we get DG to hug Toni the Gooner. DG needs a lot of urging, as if the pictures may be used against him in Court or something. But he hugs her for about two seconds after refusing strongly.
Ross, Jean and me go to the cab office opposite the cop shop and I get a cab first. Home. As I undress see the highlights again shed more tears not a lot though - just touched by the unbridled joy of Spurs fans and players after years of choking frustration.
Excellent mate f**king excellent.
I did come back with more than
I went with: European football three years in a row.
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