Michael's niece was born last year, and he's been watching games while holding her in my lap. As she turned one, he looked to my own children, and his responsibility to help raise them as Spurs fans. Here is his inner dialogue that will sensibly guide him through this process one day.
Hello newborn. Welcome.
A new dawn has baptised you as a Spurs supporter. Your attention may tire some years, but I doubt that will ever be truly the case. Whether by blood or sheer passion, you’re with us for life.
So now you’re part of the Spurs family. Before going through the steps in supporting the club, and what it means to be a supporter, who are you? Ticket holder or tourist?
For those of us born within driving distance to White Hart Lane, you’ve entered a knightly Order that will never fail you. Good lads and ladies, with love for Spurs and fellow supporters. Arrive at the Lane, sit in your temple pew and sing. The stadium echoes our hymns and portentous amounts of pain and glory await you in an engrossing match. Your life will be cherished and remembered by our club support.
For those of born out of the light of White Hart Lane, we must settle for what the Swedish call “Lagom är bäst ” or “Enough is good as a feast”; live your life without the club being a massive inconvenience to you. It may not be White Hart Lane, but you still take alcoholic communion if you’re of age, watch on television, sing our hymns, scream and cry for joy. Rest assured your support in the far corners of the world echo our presence. You are still a true supporter. Ticket holders and tourists live in different worlds, however; the terrace culture is a remarkable experience that tourists may need to learn to participate. Fear not, go slow. Kindness, patience, and tolerance are excellent virtues that many Spurs supporters historically hold in spades.
So little one, have you got your tickets or will you be watching on telly? We all appreciate if you have a Spurs shirt on, or at the very least not wearing red. Why you ask? When you learn our history, you must hate Woolwich, which is an awful virus that piggybacked on us in to the Premier League. A bit like chicken pox you might say! Those little red dots from Woolwich that reside in North London is an affront to God that will one day be popped back to the lower leagues. Without going further into it, take your time reading about it on the internet, and you’ll know. Also we should watch the Glenn Hoddle narrated documentary on Youtube, remind me sometime.
We now need to protect you against the attacks of other clubs. Although the violent hooligan firms of yore are mostly gone, supporters still verbally assault in the most intense and prolific ways. We are different; so we must act as such. I’ll teach you my Yiddo Zen and laughter, so stick with me. Fear not, you are Spurs, audere est facere so learn to repel and take it as a compliment. Our manager Pochettino laughed quite a bit when Woolwich won against us once upon a time; their players acted like they had won a trophy, taking pictures and making fun of us, but were soon after caught abusing substances and embarrassing themselves. Such an awful club!
Almost time for bed, but teaching you the songs is next. Oh Ledley is a must. Nicola Berti? Okay, but for now we’ll start with my favorite, Tottenham Till I Die. Ready?
Tottenham Till I Die
I’m Tottenham Till I Die!
I know I am, I’m sure I am
I’m Tottenham Till I Die!
One day I’ll teach you about The Fighting Cock, and the characters on Spurs Twitter. This year lots of people got married, some are starting new jobs, and a many doing weird and interesting things! Not until you’re older though. Like thirty. Time to sleep. Good night, sleep tight.