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Mansfield away.

It was pissing down all day. Me and my lot bought black plastic bin bags from a local shop who thought we were barking to keep us dry making holes in the top and sides for our heads and arms. But we hadn't got 5 mins up the road before the old bill rocked up and told us to take them off. No idea to this day what was wrong with that!

Anyway it was lashing down and there was no way we were going in the open away end. So me and a couple of others went in the home end. When we realised were were the only Spurs in there were gave a sob story to the steward about accidentally going in the wrong end and he just let us climb over the wall and left us to our own devices.

We decided to go in the side stand where the TV filmed the game from. We went for a piss where the toilets were already ankle deep in urine and when we came out some of our older lot were having a set to with some Mansfield.

Me and my mate joined in the fray but after about a minute we realised the others had fucked off and we were on on our tod. We beat a hasty retreat to be chased up the stairs to the stand.

The stairs split into a Y shape and luckily their lead protagonist tripped at the top step where they spilt giving us enough time to make our escape. At the top of the steps were the aforementioned older lot (probably early/mid twenties in reality) who we quickly mingled with and who thought it was most amusing.

Later on near the end of the game we moved to a position in front of the directors box where General Burkinshaw and some players were sitting (no idea why they were there and not in the dugout? Probably to keep dry!). They studiously ignored us.

I was in the home end at Mansfield, in fact there was quite a few of us as we didn't want to get soaked. Never had a problem there. We all went mad when Hoddle equalised, no one had a go at us. Mind you it was most of the coach 'chaps' in there.
 
I was in the home end at Mansfield, in fact there was quite a few of us as we didn't want to get soaked. Never had a problem there. We all went mad when Hoddle equalised, no one had a go at us. Mind you it was most of the coach 'chaps' in there.

I wish I had known that! Thought we were on our Jack Jones and ducked out sharpish.
 
Seeing as we are on North/South London derby day and my nerves are shredded awaiting ko let me share some memories of the vermin. My first encounter with the shitbags was last game of the season 69/70 at WHL when my all time favourite player Gilly scored and we won 1-0. Gilly hated Bob Wilson because he chose Scotland over England as an international for the sole reason that wilson was too shit to oust Gordon Banks and Gilly as a proud Scot took exception and battered the woolwich slag all game. The next game was the 70/71 at the lane when they stole/bored their way to the title. There have been so many lies written about that game and how many nomads were in the ground. All i can tell you from my memory of it was that the park lane was half and half and i remember a stream of skinheads being led out by the plod. We had played Liverpool in the FA cup 6th round replay earlier that season and the crowd was 56,283 and i thought the plumstead game would have exceeded that but was given as just under 52,000. I do vividly recall looking back from the West Stand outside on my uncles shoulders at the sight looking towards the old White Hart and the church. It was a sea of faces as far as the eye could see.Their ridiculous claim that there were 40,000 of them there is plainly stupid. When i got older we started to go over their place and take liberties. They were terrified to come to WHL too and one night they were humiliated, it was Pat Jennings testimomal at WHL and they turned up in a van! They were sent packing for insulting us for bringing that few. Mid 70's to early 80's we totally dominated them taking the North Bank regularly. Huge mobs of donkey jacketed Tottenham fans at Manor House early doors would then march over to the cess pit. We came from the South and would get on the tube and ask for a 'return to Gillespie Road' as none of us would recognise that stations current name. The streets around Highbury would be tense as they awaited the invasion. We used to go in at the first North Bank entrance as you look from the station and would recognise blokes from over Spurs. Once in we would gather at the right hand as you look out then at 2:50 or so the chant would go up and the Tottenham fans surged across the terrace scattering the woolwich. Was a great experience and was all part of following Spurs in those days if you were 'of age'. Terry Naylor was interviewed once and he was asked what his favourite memory of football was and he replied 'running out at Highbury and seeing our fans had taken the North Bank again'. Legend.
 
I wish I had known that! Thought we were on our Jack Jones and ducked out sharpish.
One of the few games where we got there really early, I remember we even had a drink in the pub before the game. Then we played it cool getting in their end going in, in ones and twos. Mainly did it to keep dry more than looking for trouble.
We were prepared though if it did go off.
:sneaky:
 
Liverpool.

After we got promoted and we signed Ossie and Ricky we played the all conquering Liverpool early the next season. As you are all well aware we were battered 7-0.

After a while we realised we were in for a timing and when they scored goal after goal they were trying to wind us up and to deflect the grief we were getting we started cheering and celebrating as if it was Spurs that had scored (a bit bizarre but funny) which pissed them right off because we refused to bite at their taunts.

As we were being escorted back to the station they were following on the other side of the road and still taunting us. After a while one of the older lot we knew came and found some other like minded individuals (20-30 maybe) and we decided to break the police cordon (who made no attempt to stop us) and go into them.

As soon as we broke the cordon they melted and ran away like they were missing a closing down sale at Primark.

We just meandered back into the escort as if nothing had happened.
 
Just wondering if it was any of the old guard on here who were having a swan song against Plod on the High Road on the last day of the season v Sunderland in the year 2000?
Oh yes! They were playing up at Liverpool street and on the trains into White Hart Lane. There was a huge firm of Spurs in the bank on the corner. The fat gits got off and were singing their heads and being lairy. Then they got surrounded by the huge Tottenham firm by the garage on Whitehall St. Suddenly they weren't as mouthy and a few took a slap. Their seaburn casuals were up by Scotland Green but were terrorised by the two Spurs mobs in the Vic and the Two Brewers. They should have spoken to their dads and asked them how they got on at Tottenham in the past.
 
Oh yes! They were playing up at Liverpool street and on the trains into White Hart Lane. There was a huge firm of Spurs in the bank on the corner. The fat gits got off and were singing their heads and being lairy. Then they got surrounded by the huge Tottenham firm by the garage on Whitehall St. Suddenly they weren't as mouthy and a few took a slap. Their seaburn casuals were up by Scotland Green but were terrorised by the two Spurs mobs in the Vic and the Two Brewers. They should have spoken to their dads and asked them how they got on at Tottenham in the past.

I remember it going off on the High Road after the game, glass flying everywhere. Sunderland lot fled and Spurs were left to fight with just old Bill. Plod drove a paddy wagon into middle of the Spurs agro but couldn't get out the van and a bunch of 40 year old blokes started to rock the side of the van trying to tip it over. In the end only the arrival of Police Horses restored order.

I remember laughing at a mackham who was sat on his arse with blood pissing out nose complaining about Southern Softies. I saw a lot of blood soaked Sunderland fans that day on the way home on the bus and train.
 
I remember it going off on the High Road after the game, glass flying everywhere. Sunderland lot fled and Spurs were left to fight with just old Bill. Plod drove a paddy wagon into middle of the Spurs agro but couldn't get out the van and a bunch of 40 year old blokes started to rock the side of the van trying to tip it over.

I remember laughing at a mackham who was sat on his arse with blood pissing out nose complaining about Southern Softies. I saw a lot of blood soaked Sunderland fans that day on the way home on the bus and train.
The mouthy fuckers deserved it for me. Where did they think they were? Coventry? Southampton? woolwich? Cheeky slags.
 
The second leg (replay) of the final they were directly above us as they couldn’t shift all their allocation presumably.
Mad it was
A few battles
None of them came down into us, but vice versa

Liverpool league cup final was mad outside

How we lost that I don’t know.
We outplayed them only to get held up and robbed at closing time
That weasel Whelan.
First game I realised that we probably weren't going to win every Cup Final we played. I hate Whelan to this day.
 
One funny think I witnessed at WHU away in 2009 (we won 2-1). After the game me and a mate, his kid and Mrs were queuing up outside the tub station and we heard all this commotion and shouting at the top of the road.

Anyway a minute later this twenty something Yid (young but huge) came walking down followed by 3 hammers giving him loads of verbal. The one at the front was bizarrely holding a plate of chips. The young Yid suddenly did an about turn, went into them and gave chip boy a right hander. He ended up on his arse, still holding his chips with loads of claret coming out of his firemans. The Yid just sauntered off.

It was an absolute picture.
 
One funny think I witnessed at WHU away in 2009 (we won 2-1). After the game me and a mate, his kid and Mrs were queuing up outside the tub station and we heard all this commotion and shouting at the top of the road.

Anyway a minute later this twenty something Yid (young but huge) came walking down followed by 3 hammers giving him loads of verbal. The one at the front was bizarrely holding a plate of chips. The young Yid suddenly did an about turn, went into them and gave chip boy a right hander. He ended up on his arse, still holding his chips with loads of claret coming out of his firemans. The Yid just sauntered off.

It was an absolute picture.

I went to that game. Good times.
 
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