Here we go again…

Leicester 1 – 1 Spurs (Monday 19 August 2024)

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Dedicated to Sandie Chalmers.
She saw it all, from Blanchflower to Kane.

Leicester… What is it about Leicester that infuriates me so? There’s no logic to this rumble of resentment that begins to assimilate in my very core any time the East Midlands city is mentioned. I am aware of course that due to my geographical knowledge being initially and predominantly based upon names of football teams, that this rancour is most likely football related and has nothing to do with what I can only assume is a fine city made up of good people, with the acceptation of Davide Icke and the seemingly endless conveyor belt of bland indie bands. ‘Kasabian’ always sounded to me like the name a posh older woman would give her cat as opposed to a band I’d be interested to know about.

1999… 12 year old me is dancing around my best mate Joe’s living room (he had Sky!) having just witnessed Allan Nielsen’s last minute diving header to win the League Cup for Spurs and break Leicester hearts. That’s no reason to hate them, despite the bust up between Robbie Savage and Justin Edinburgh, God rest him. Jump forward a few years and I recall Joe and I again, this time in my living room, watching an FA Cup tie (it was on the BBC) being played away at their new ground. If memory serves, Paul Stalteri scored an absolute screamer into the top right hand corner from an angle outside of the box, only for Leicester to score twice in injury time and knock us out. I’m sure the match winner went by the name Elvis but I could be wrong. Again, not really a reason to hate them.

After that we didn’t see them for a while until a certain Dele Alli popped up to score his first goal in Spurs colours at their place. The next few years saw Erikson free kicks, Bergwijn late winners and an ultimately successful (when you really think about it) loan spell for Harry Kane, although now I say it, that must have been prior to Dele’s introduction. The craw in my side however is that Leicester did the unthinkable back in 2016. Arguably the greatest story in football history. More biblical than David and Goliath themselves.

On paper, the underdog cheering, capitalist veering, lefty leaning twat I am, I should be delighted, but of course I’m a Spurs hostage, so I was furious, and still am. Not least because it should have been Spurs but incredibly we managed to finish third in a two horse race. No prizes for guessing who beat us by a nose to second place on the final day of that season.

Since their 2016 league title, Leicester have won an FA Cup, seen their owner die in a helicopter crash (attempting to fly out of their stadium after a game) and been relegated from the top flight, only to return a season later as Champions, this being their first game back. So whilst the resentment of their League and Cup success is clear, I now find myself envious of the full panoply of emotions on offer to them, seemingly at a rate of knots.

Being Spurs is altogether a different emotion and one which I love (perhaps that’s the Stockholm syndrome talking), but constantly being the smallest big man somehow pales in comparison.

As my travelling companion for the evening’s onslaught Ashley and I make our way up to Leicester on the train from St.Pancras we discuss what we think the starting line up may look like. It’s been a bit of an anticlimactic pre-season and transfer window thus far. Off-loading some excess weight is good (and something I need to do myself come to think of it). We wish them all well, especially Emerson, God bless him.

We’ve brought in some exciting young talent and indeed also have some exciting young talent emerging from the academy, however last week’s announcement of Dominic Solanke is the only real news story, and it’s perhaps not the ’statement’ we’d maybe been hoping for as a fanbase. That said, we’re not living in a plentiful time of 20+ goal scoring centre forwards and aside from Victor Osimhen (which was never on the cards) and possibly Ivan Toney (not a Spurs player in my book), I’m not sure what else was on the cards.

Let’s be honest, Spurs don’t really do ’statement buys’, we’re more into ’statement sales’. Upon reflection, I’ve come to the conclusion that Jurgen Klinsmann was probably the last statement player we bought and that was exactly 30 years ago. I wish Solanke all the best and am happy he’s here but an upfront pairing of him and Richarlison does feel a bit like Defoe and Keane or dare I say it Ferdinand and Iverson…just a bit ‘meh’ (sorry Jermain!).

I hope I’m wrong and that this is purely based on the fact that they’re from Bournemouth and Everton respectively. The defence picks itself and under the assumption that we think Son, Solanke and Johnson start up top that leaves the midfield up for debate. It looks like Biss, the ‘hippy crack inhaling’ bad boy will be sin binned (what an idiot). So, does that mean Bentancur, the ‘violent racist’ will get a run out? As for the somewhat goody-two-shoes in comparison, but out of form James Maddison, will he automatically be chosen to face his old team mates (plus Harry Winks!) for the first time since his departure?

I think he should start ,100%. Just as Ivan Toney does not feel like a Spurs player to me, James Maddison in my humble opinion was born to play for Spurs, I felt this way when I first came across him at Norwich, before his move to Leicester and it’s worth mentioning, in the month we bid farewell to David Pleat (he left the club, not this mortal coil), that he scouted a young James Maddison at Coventry, advising the club to sign him all those years ago, we finally did, almost a decade later, cheers Dave and all the best for your retirement.

I’ve written previously about the trails and tribulations of attaining Spurs away tickets. Likening it to a federal agent in a gangster film, immersing himself in the murky underworld, hoping not to get found out. The club are making steps to improve the access of these hallowed tickets or in truth loosen the grip held by the few season tickets dripping in enough loyalty points who automatically buy up the allocation each time and then pass them on/around. In my experience this is not done for profit and it is the true away day faithful. However I fully support improving the situation, making it fairer and encouraging a new generation of away day fans to filter through. As someone who doesn’t have the loyalty points to purchase most away tickets. I have to find other means, whilst trying not to take offence at my loyalty being brought into question.

This time around a special thanks goes out to Destiny Udogie, whom has gifted me x2 tickets via a friend of a friend. I do not know Destiny, however I’ve been FWD a WhatsApp message from him telling me where to go to collect the tickets. It’s almost as good as the time a picture of Fernando Llorente’s thumb holding his Metropolitano allocation was FWD to me via a friend of a friend of a friend (that link was tenuous under extenuating circumstances) when he assisted with Champion’s League final tickets. You can’t knock the hustle and it’s reassuring to know we’ve had some stand up guys playing for the team over the years.

Ashley and I pull into Leicester around 5pm. We’ve enough time to meet Dark Mark (a nick name referring to a head space similar to that of Garth Marenghi’s that he’s been known to occasionally frequent, as opposed to a racial slur!) and his father whom is a life long Foxes fan. His Spurs supporting son will be sitting on his hands in the home end with his old man. We head down Walnut Street, cross the River Soar and meet at the corner of Upperton and Narborough where we are told there are a number watering holes that for legal reasons do not identify as pubs.

A slightly frosty atmosphere meets us as we enter an establishment that goes by the name of Oases. I’m wearing my 1992-94 light blue Umbro third kit, an all time classic. Alas everyone else in this room is donning a darker shade of blue. After a couple pints in this slightly unusual cross between a working mans club, Indian restaurant and a bar it’s time to leave as Ash returns from the toilet claiming there’s a man standing in there wearing a bikini. We don’t dwell on this for too long as we need to track down Destiny Udogie’s brother before kick off; he has our tickets! We’re met with a big smile and a hug by the Spurs left back’s brother and his mate. We exchange pleasantries, collect the tickets and head our separate ways, ours being the way of the of the travelling supporters entrance.

Entering the underbelly of the Foxes earth we’re met with a new Solanke number. It’s a simple ditty which is probably best not repeated. However it’s repeated to Stewart Lee levels and picks up quite the momentum before pivoting into ‘I Can’t Smile Without You’, something that will always bring me up to the vinegar strokes of an emotional wobble. As for the football, do we have to talk about the football?

It was fine, we dominated the first half without creating too much. We went into the break 1-0 up through Pedro Porro, and how lovely it was to celebrate a Spurs goal again, even sweeter to do so in the away corner. However, the second half was unbearably predictable. Vardy (who else?) scored out of nothing and the pendulum completely Swung. It takes six, yes six changes (due the concussion ruling) for Spurs to get a foothold back in the game but it’s not enough. The Spurs faithful were in fairly good voice but in truth there wasn’t much to get behind.

With the exception of the defence plus Bergvall and Gray off the bench, we looked pretty average. This team hasn’t really had a pre-season and Solanke has only just walked in the door, so the service to him and how he receives it will surely improve but the jury is still out on Ange-ball for me and has been since Christmas last year. I like it in theory but in practice it’s a long way off. The debacle and comments around the Arsenal, Chelsea and City games at the end of last season didn’t help and I’m still slightly sore.

The home fans were thrilled with the result and why not, but my God they despise us. The jeering and taunting didn’t stop from the moment they equalised. Reminding me only too well of all the aforementioned reasons that I should feel envious of what they have. What they most certainly don’t have is a train to catch in 45mins, the last train to trance central. I will sadly miss the next few games, likely not seeing Spurs in the flesh until Man Utd away. Let’s hope we’re a bit more cohesive by that point.

When people used to ask me if I’m an optimist, I’d say, ‘I hope so!’. These days, when pondering the glass being half empty or half full, I conclude that I’m just grateful to even have a glass at all.