Rembering lost souls and our love for Tottenham

It’s taken a while. There have been ups and downs this season, but the home leg against Juande Ramos’ Dnipro was something that harks back to a different era of Tottenham Hotspur. European football, a victory snatched from seemingly ignominious defeat, controversy over theatrics and shocking refereeing. Quick, fluid counter attacking; young players showing that their mettle is made of metal and the 1882 crowd encouraging a dispirited team. A turnaround from an aggregate score of 2-0 down to 3-2 victors was a fitting send off for two very different presences who will both be missed at the Lane.

Yes. Finally. We’ve got our Tottenham back.

The football of the first half wasn’t where the excitement was to be had – that was found in the stands, in block 35, where 22 minutes of uninterrupted singing culminated with a single minute’s unbroken applause for Tom Van Haaren; a departed soul, a fallen brother in arms.

It was a minute where many of us considered the importance of football in the grander scale of things. We were a congregation gathered for mass and we remembered a friend who followed as we do. As one, we hoped that he was watching from a better place.

[linequote]As Dnipro celebrated, block 35 didn’t react we just continued singing ‘Oh When the Spurs’ [/linequote]

Half time broke and the whistle blew on the Spurs career of a legend. Our leading European goalscorer, Jermain Defoe, was serenaded by White Hart Lane for the final time. This was an emotional goodbye from us for a man who has been revelation and stagnation, frustration and force of nature.

While Defoe reminded us of what he offered on the pitch at his best, the highlight of the half-time entertainment was to be found in his final comments about our rivals. Just as the fans had sung “F*** ’em all” numerous times during the match, he took a moment to relish scoring against Woolwich and make a pointed comment about his continued success against West Ham.

The second half began and before we’d caught our breath, they had scored. Ramos had come back to haunt us, as many former Tottenham staff seem to do. As Dnipro celebrated, block 35 didn’t react. We just continued singing the slow verses of “Oh When the Spurs”, giving greater voice to our belief that it was written. This was our trophy and we would do it the hard way. The Tottenham Hotspur way. Our belief never wavered and we dared not falter. We simply sang louder, waiting for the inevitable response on the pitch.

That response was quicker in coming than we suspected. Roberto Soldado made a run and struck the ball sweetly into the back of the net. A raised flag – and we were reminded again that the Lord taketh away. But the crowd had a taste of blood and wanted more – our singing redoubled and we were rewarded with a free kick. Eriksen lined up to take it. And the net rippled. Our belief was paying off already.

[linequote]Eriksen lined up to take the freekcik. And the net rippled. Our belief was paying off already[/linequote]

Our European future was dependent on the next few kicks in this match – ironic then that it was a header that made all the difference. As Eriksen lined up another free kick, there was a scuffle in which Vertonghen took a headbutt to the chin and went down (after a momentary delay). A red card, a goal from Adebayor and our belief grew ever-stronger. All that remained was the icing on the cake; Adebayor provided that, with an exquisite, quick finish from a superb long ball from Fryers, one of our youngsters who shone through on a glory, glory night.

Danny Blanchflower once said: “The game is about glory, it is about doing things in style and with a flourish, about going out and beating the other lot, not waiting for them to die of boredom.” This author’s feeling is that he wasn’t just talking about the opposition; he may also have been speaking about the Spurs fans.

We are difficult to please, we may have ideas above our station; the truth is that we have always prided one thing above victory and that is attacking, free-flowing football played by men with heart and pride to be in our shirt. This match provided a little taste of those aspects of the game that we savour and salivate over. After all this time, it felt like we are the Tottenham boys again.

All that remains is to say goodbye to two true Spurs; good luck, Jermain and RIP Tom Van Haaren.