Supporting Spurs is like riding a roller-coaster that plunges you down and up and, invariably, down again, circling loop-the-loops for eternity until only the sweet release of death permits you to get off. This season has been a disaster for the Lilywhites, not won anything since 2008 and with a drink at the last chance saloon they are into the quarter finals of the Europa League.
Arsenal too,has a reputation for playing attractive, flowing football. So, perhaps to their fans it's like watching a beautiful play, where sometimes the final act doesn't quite live up to the performance.
There can be periods of great beauty and high expectations, followed by periods of frustrating near-misses. I remember that Arsenal has had periods of great dominance, and then, like Spurs, they have experienced periods of long trophy droughts. Therefore, it could be said it is like having a very nice car that sometimes works perfectly and other times has very frustrating breakdowns.
Liverpool, however, has a history that has been filled with moments of incredible triumph and heartbreaking tragedy. So, supporting them might be described as an emotionally intense journey, with soaring highs and devastating lows.
Being part of a powerful collective experience and great success makes us fans, who follow football, go through high highs and sometimes very low lows.
Essentially, though, teams like Arsenal and Liverpool, and even those now offering fresh challenges to the so-called "top six," like Bournemouth, Brentford, Aston Villa, and Nottingham Forest, all offer passionate fan experiences, but with their own distinct flavors.
If I also look at Chelsea, I could have been blue at eleven years old. My BFF, Gary, also my next-door neighbor in Whitethorn Avenue, Yiewsley, Middlesex, took Chelsea, so I took Tottenham Hotspur. They challenged the established order, winning the FA Cup while in the Southern League. Initially known as 'Hotspur,' the club added 'Tottenham' to its name in 1884 to avoid confusion with another London club called Hotspur FC. They wore blue and white halved jerseys, experimented with chocolate brown and gold, and were eventually inspired by Preston North End's successful team.
In 1919, Arsenal were controversially promoted to the First Division at the expense of Tottenham, despite Tottenham finishing higher in the league. This event ignited a deep-seated resentment that continues to fuel the rivalry and is considered by many Tottenham fans to be the starting point of the intense rivalry. But to add to the "We hate Arsenal" chants, during World War II, Arsenal's Highbury stadium was requisitioned by the government for use as an Air Raid Precautions (ARP) center. As a result, Arsenal played their home matches at Tottenham's White Hart Lane for the duration of the war.
I would like to think the women in my life were supporters of football teams, but I don't think so. Although I can sometimes get Teresa, my wife, to wear a Spurs shirt, I will find her on her phone when I watch the team. My youngest stepdaughter, Catherine, was at one time a Chelsea Blue and played football for the local team. The proof is in the picture below—that was before she became Pink Barbie and infatuated with Taylor Swift. The other, Rachel, claims to be a Spurs supporter but has a partner who supports Liverpool.
I met this wonderful person last year on Holiday in Portugal who has supported the blues forever, here is his lovely take on being a Chelsea football fan.
MY BLUE FOUNDATION.
By Brian Eustace
The year 1950,my age 7 years, five years since World War 2 ended. My parents live in a pre-fab in St. Marks Grove, Fulham Road, London. There were 12 pre-fab in the Grove all filled with young families. There was a lot of destruction in London and after the war the pre-fabs were built to house homeless families but were only built to last a decade. At the tender age of 7, l suddenly realised that life did not consist of hide and seek, hopscotch, chase, skipping and fag cards but BALLS - - - - - - - - - - football and cricket balls.
Sport became no.1 in my life, l played football and cricket at every opportunity and was encouraged by one of my teachers, Mr. Clarke, and l represented Fulham boys ( under 11) at football and was skipper at both sports at school.
I attended Harwood Road Primary School, a 10 minute walk away from home and l passed Stamford Bridge Stadium everyday. My association and support for Chelsea Football Club started early in life and l have enjoyed the highlights and endured the lowlights ever since.
I used to watch Chelsea whenever possible by looking after cars parked in the Grove ( look after your car mister?), begging and sometimes finding somebody at the turnstiles who would pay for me to go in. The Stadium those days had a greyhound track running around the outside of the football pitch and during match days a copper sat on a wooden box every 50 yards or so for security. I sometimes got passed over the perimeter wall so l could sit on the track to watch the game.
The crowd 20-60 thousand, mostly standing, was not segregated and all the men looked alike with their big long coats and hats, everything in those days seemed colourless apart from the occasional supporters scarves and apart from shouting their support and the odd outburst of banter everyone seemed content with their lot after the war.
I soon became familiar with the players and their names as l was fortunate to see them regularly in the week off the pitch as they walked from the ground after training to a cafe near the Grove. I regularly got autographs and l was amazed how ordinary these football gods were.
The names rolled off my tongue, Bentley, Harris, Sillett, Blunstone etc. As l grew the more Chelsea became a vital part of my youth and in 1954/55 it culminated in Ted Drake managing us to win the League. I was there as Roy Bentley received the League Trophy.
The team - - - - - - - - - - - - Bentley, Blunstone, Robertson, Greenwood, Harris, Wicks, Willemse, Parsons, McNichol, Stubbs and Lewis became instant heroes. In the following years Tambling, Osgood, Cooke, Bonetti, Greaves etc gave me so much pleasure even though it was via television, radio and papers.
As my parents moved house, when l changed schools as an eleven year old and my support became more distant and visits to the Bridge less frequent. I played football and cricket regularly until my body said no more but these early years were the foundation of being forever BLUE.
_________________________________________________________
I suppose all fans strive for success, and it’s great to see other teams challenging the so-called ‘Top Six.’ Chelsea's history has seen dramatic shifts, particularly with the influx of investment. This has led to a sense of rapid change, both positive and negative. Therefore, supporting Chelsea might be like riding a very powerful, high-performance vehicle that sometimes has very sharp turns and sometimes has periods of smooth sailing.
Supporting Liverpool can, I guess, lead to very high feelings of joy when they win, but also very deep feelings of disappointment when they lose. One of my subscribers, Craig, has a superstition, that if he watches the Reds in his own home, then they invariably lose. Yes, it works to some extent, until they play Darwin Núñez.
Like Spurs, Manchester United and their legacy of greatness have current management struggles. The current period of rebuilding and inconsistency since ‘Fergie time’ disappeared is probably particularly painful for fans who remember their glory days. Therefore, it could be said that supporting Manchester United is like watching a once-great empire that is going through a period of rebuilding.
If you have a team and subscribe to my blog, let me know how you see your emotions and tell me what you think your team are metaphorically aligned to.
I do feel a little sorry for poor Mr Nunez, 4 goals and a lot of disappointment for Mr Slot now they play Eddie Howe's Newcastle this weekend, will it be a double year for them as they went out of the FA Cup to lowly Plymouth at Home Park and lost on penalties to Paris St German with a penalty miss by ....
An Ode to Darwin
An Ode to Darwin, Uruguayan born,
In Liverpool red, a legend forlorn.
No other quite like him, a unique display,
Of chances spurned, that haunt -every day!
Ten points clear, a dream left behind?
Slot's hopes dashed, a frustrating kind.
Home games a trial, at the "Park" Slot was barmy
No FA cup this year -just the chants of"Green Army"
He works with fervor, a high-earning soul,
But echoes of Werner, take their cruel toll.
A 2-2 thriller, a miss so dire,
Szoboszlai's pass, sent soaring higher.
Poor Darwin's gaze, a sorrowful plea,
Pony tail swinging, a tragedy.
Why does he play, it’s a scouser shame,
The Scouse heart demands, success to attain.
A summer departure, a likely decree,
Darwin, to win, you must make shots agree.
Your time may be over, your fate now in sight,
But If goals don't arrive, then sorry son, goodnight!