James, USA

This is the routine I followed in NYC.

Festivities start the night before kickoff. Usually I meet up with Norf, Q, and Trust and we visit our local pub in Brooklyn. We stay there and sexually harass everything with a pulse until we are asked to leave (or one of us pulls) – that usually happens around midnight.

We then take the train to China town to visit NYCs best Karaoke bar, Baby Grand, owned by fellow NYSpur, Vid. There we usually run into a few of the other NYSpurs Characters – RoyRadics, Muswell, IrishDave, ThisGuy, NewGuy, Jade, Criszac, and many others. Kudos to Vid at this point we are all usually smaaaaaaaashed and we have now made everyone in the pub who doesn’t worship the Cockerel feel very uncomfortable (unless they have tits, in that case, very very very uncomfortable). Karaoking mutates into a Spurs sing along with Nicola Berti being a club favorite. Typically we stay there until 4 or when Vid has finally had enough of us.

By now we’re all a bit obnoxious, so the original 4 of us then head to a diner to get some breakfast. This is typically where the banter begins between everyone, and no subject is off limits – we sh*t talk prison rule style – if it doesn’t hurt your feelings then it’s not worth talking about. Q, who’s black, typically makes the waitress feel horrible about “integrating his coffee” and goes on a long hysterical rant about race and coffee. Norf is typically quiet except for his overuse of the words “bare” and “blud”. Trust rambles on constantly of being left out of the “inside joke” that doesn’t exist, and I spend my next 2 hours trying to console the 60 year old waitress who now feels like a John Terry-Luis Suarez hybrid of racism.

Typically this takes us to around 6am and we start making our way to Floyds, our official pub. I can’t stress how beautiful Floyds is. Some people go to church, I go there. We get a few more pints in before kickoff, sneak a smoke in, and then burst into a song session. Due to all of the festivities, and lack of sleep, it’s not uncommon to see someone passed out at Floyds and when they do they get their photo on the NYSpurs site. Half time resembles Amsterdam outside, and the second half is just as vocal as the first. Win or lose, we stay at Floyds until the late afternoon, and then we head home in a daze. No one ever wants to seem like they are the first one to go home, but eventually we have to leave.

Once home, my wife verbally (sometimes physically) assaults me for a few hours and I do my best to act like I’m listening or capable of feeling.

Sorry about the grammar, punctuation, and the lack of articulate ability to do the characters in NYSpurs justice. The cycle of life continues, but our match days (match daze) are what we live for. COYS!!! TTID!!!

James Cordea
AKA BrooklynYid AKA Echo6Charlie

PS ChicagoSpurs stories coming soon!