Anyone care to share their memories of the final versus the chavs in 2008?
I'll start. One of my best Spurs memories...not only did we lift silverware, but I hate those cunts with a passion.
I was in my final year as a student and also my most heavy drinking period, dangerously so at times. Had my first beer on the tube on the way to meet my dad somewhere on the Northern line. We drove to a pub near Wembley to have some lunch and by chance bumped into a couples of mates, so we had burger and chips and about 5 pints with them. I remember not wanting the game to start because I was enjoying the build-up so much and felt certain that we would lose. Walking to the ground was weird, I saw small mobs of Chelsea and Spurs mingling freely on Wembley way, loads of verbals, gestures and looks but all knew it couldn't properly go off under the eyes of numerous Old Bill...Chelsea singing 'Spurs are on their way to Auschwitz'...CUNTS....went in...fought tooth and nail to get to the bar for another couple of pints before the game.
First half. They scored. Predictable but painful. Second half I was doing a piss when I heard what sounded like a far away cheer. "Shit, must be another Chelsea goal", I said to the guy pissing next to me. We both thought so. Then as I walked back to the gangway, I heard another cheer, this time huge, deafening...this could only mean one thing- we had equalised! I hadn't seen the goal but still felt the same euphoria as if I had seen it, jumping around the concourse, hugging random other yids who had missed the goal.
Despite all the beer, my nerves just could not take it as the game went to extra time. I remember distinctly that when Woodgate scored I was so sapped of energy that I didn't have the strength to jump around...all I could do was stand and clench my fist...but still I was so insanely happy. The period of time between his goal and the final whistle was easily the most nervous I have ever been at football. In fact, it's probably one of my most nervous times in life generally. I remember the whistles before half time in extra time being so loud, it was as if we were willing the ref to blow up for full time in the Champions League final, not half time in extra time in the league cup final. I never thought we'd make it to the end of that first half let alone the end of the second half. I remember going down to the concourse in that half time to check if the bar had magically re-opened...I was that desperate for something to kill the tension.
Time went on, fans getting more nervous, it shifting to the players. Mistakes being made. Whistles. As deafening as anything. Full time approaching, and then fucking Drogba is through on goal. We're going to fuck it up, right at the end, in true Spurs style. But the whistle goes! We've won! TOTTENHAM HOTSPUR LEAGUE CUP WINNERS flashes up on a screen and I feel a blast of extreme joy. I remember Drogba complaining to the ref, Hi Ho Silver Lining playing as the players do a lap of honour, many songs walking back to the pub, some celebratory drinks that never tasted so good, then back to Palmers Green to start the real night's drinking with mates, then into Central London to celebrate and back to my flat around 4am....What a fucking day!
I'll start. One of my best Spurs memories...not only did we lift silverware, but I hate those cunts with a passion.
I was in my final year as a student and also my most heavy drinking period, dangerously so at times. Had my first beer on the tube on the way to meet my dad somewhere on the Northern line. We drove to a pub near Wembley to have some lunch and by chance bumped into a couples of mates, so we had burger and chips and about 5 pints with them. I remember not wanting the game to start because I was enjoying the build-up so much and felt certain that we would lose. Walking to the ground was weird, I saw small mobs of Chelsea and Spurs mingling freely on Wembley way, loads of verbals, gestures and looks but all knew it couldn't properly go off under the eyes of numerous Old Bill...Chelsea singing 'Spurs are on their way to Auschwitz'...CUNTS....went in...fought tooth and nail to get to the bar for another couple of pints before the game.
First half. They scored. Predictable but painful. Second half I was doing a piss when I heard what sounded like a far away cheer. "Shit, must be another Chelsea goal", I said to the guy pissing next to me. We both thought so. Then as I walked back to the gangway, I heard another cheer, this time huge, deafening...this could only mean one thing- we had equalised! I hadn't seen the goal but still felt the same euphoria as if I had seen it, jumping around the concourse, hugging random other yids who had missed the goal.
Despite all the beer, my nerves just could not take it as the game went to extra time. I remember distinctly that when Woodgate scored I was so sapped of energy that I didn't have the strength to jump around...all I could do was stand and clench my fist...but still I was so insanely happy. The period of time between his goal and the final whistle was easily the most nervous I have ever been at football. In fact, it's probably one of my most nervous times in life generally. I remember the whistles before half time in extra time being so loud, it was as if we were willing the ref to blow up for full time in the Champions League final, not half time in extra time in the league cup final. I never thought we'd make it to the end of that first half let alone the end of the second half. I remember going down to the concourse in that half time to check if the bar had magically re-opened...I was that desperate for something to kill the tension.
Time went on, fans getting more nervous, it shifting to the players. Mistakes being made. Whistles. As deafening as anything. Full time approaching, and then fucking Drogba is through on goal. We're going to fuck it up, right at the end, in true Spurs style. But the whistle goes! We've won! TOTTENHAM HOTSPUR LEAGUE CUP WINNERS flashes up on a screen and I feel a blast of extreme joy. I remember Drogba complaining to the ref, Hi Ho Silver Lining playing as the players do a lap of honour, many songs walking back to the pub, some celebratory drinks that never tasted so good, then back to Palmers Green to start the real night's drinking with mates, then into Central London to celebrate and back to my flat around 4am....What a fucking day!
