This is how it ends with a whimper and not a bang. I'm writing this certain in the knowledge that it means nothing, but for me, today, it marks the end of thirty years' supporting Spurs. I like the idea of writing this declaration of independence as a farewell to a club that once meant so very much to me. Closure, to use the phrase that our American friends like so much.
Quite simply, to quote Morrissey when asked about Buck's Fizz's latest chart entry, these days 'I find it impossible to care.'
Unlike many on this site, particularly the ones who've only had pubes for a few summers, I feel no need to wear my Spurs' credentials on my sleeve. I know the kind of fan I've been ever since the first day Keith Burkinshaw took over in that year of the long, hot summer.
Spurs today is unrecognisable, as is football, from the era I was lucky enough to grow up in. No spirit of togetherness, no respect for the fans, no sense of humility. No apology for years of frankly disgraceful football given the levels of investment and the extent to which season ticket-holders, like me, have been bled, year in, year out.
Quite simply I don't want it any more. I don't want to be robbed of money by people who don't give a shit about entertainment, or honouring a sporting tradition, or conducting themselves with dignity, or even acting like men and taking responsibility for their mistakes. I don't want to have to put up with being treated with contempt by a corporation I've poured tens of thousands of pounds into. I don't want to be at The Lane when Levy sells the club, taking it even further from what it once was. I don't want to watch the current generation of Spurs' footballers strut around like little gods, releasing quotes to the media about their (woeful) performances, and pretending that they know anything about real life with their obscene wages and obscene lack of education.
I can think of not a single good reason to carry on supporting Spurs. It's just habit now. Nothing more. One empty promise too many, one disgraceful performance too far. A repugnant, vulgar, grasping, plastic culture permeating the whole shambles - the antithesis of the sporting ideal. Today I've kicked the habit. There is no more reason to believe, so I've stopped believing.
Thanks to all the people I've stood shoulder-to-shoulder with over the decades, particularly those in the Paxton. You know who you are. Solid through everything. Once we was Yids.
Quite simply, to quote Morrissey when asked about Buck's Fizz's latest chart entry, these days 'I find it impossible to care.'
Unlike many on this site, particularly the ones who've only had pubes for a few summers, I feel no need to wear my Spurs' credentials on my sleeve. I know the kind of fan I've been ever since the first day Keith Burkinshaw took over in that year of the long, hot summer.
Spurs today is unrecognisable, as is football, from the era I was lucky enough to grow up in. No spirit of togetherness, no respect for the fans, no sense of humility. No apology for years of frankly disgraceful football given the levels of investment and the extent to which season ticket-holders, like me, have been bled, year in, year out.
Quite simply I don't want it any more. I don't want to be robbed of money by people who don't give a shit about entertainment, or honouring a sporting tradition, or conducting themselves with dignity, or even acting like men and taking responsibility for their mistakes. I don't want to have to put up with being treated with contempt by a corporation I've poured tens of thousands of pounds into. I don't want to be at The Lane when Levy sells the club, taking it even further from what it once was. I don't want to watch the current generation of Spurs' footballers strut around like little gods, releasing quotes to the media about their (woeful) performances, and pretending that they know anything about real life with their obscene wages and obscene lack of education.
I can think of not a single good reason to carry on supporting Spurs. It's just habit now. Nothing more. One empty promise too many, one disgraceful performance too far. A repugnant, vulgar, grasping, plastic culture permeating the whole shambles - the antithesis of the sporting ideal. Today I've kicked the habit. There is no more reason to believe, so I've stopped believing.
Thanks to all the people I've stood shoulder-to-shoulder with over the decades, particularly those in the Paxton. You know who you are. Solid through everything. Once we was Yids.