- Feb 8, 2007
- 11,942
- 21,098
You walk, your heart beating in your chest so hard you think you can hear your ribs creak under the pressure.
The membership card you're holding has been rubbed so hard in your sweaty clutch that a veneer has grown obscuring the words but the navy blue cockerel still stands out - proud, alert, erect on its round leather perch.
As you walk, the stands rise from the horizon, growing, moving towards the sky until they loom above you. The white and blue, so dear, so familiar that the colours are etched into every fibre of your being - never red, never red.
The turnstile, the sideways shuffle, the lobby. Slake the thirst - beer. Mmmmmm.
The gangway, up the stairs as the view turns green. And you step out into the stand for the very first time - into a new field of glory. A new home, not a replacement but an idea born from the original.
The first game at the new stadium in Stratford. To tell your grandchildren 'I was there, the first time Spurs played at Stratford. I was there when the cockerel stopped crowing and started shrieking triumph!'
You can be there, the first time. Be part of our history. What goes before will not be forgotten. White Hart Lane will be forever stamped in my heart as the home of football to me, but my heart has room enough for two.
If Stratford becomes the future, I would still carry the past, White Hart Lane, with me whenever I stepped onto the terraces.
Hotspur may be Tottenham, but Tottenham doesn't automatically mean Hotspur...
The membership card you're holding has been rubbed so hard in your sweaty clutch that a veneer has grown obscuring the words but the navy blue cockerel still stands out - proud, alert, erect on its round leather perch.
As you walk, the stands rise from the horizon, growing, moving towards the sky until they loom above you. The white and blue, so dear, so familiar that the colours are etched into every fibre of your being - never red, never red.
The turnstile, the sideways shuffle, the lobby. Slake the thirst - beer. Mmmmmm.
The gangway, up the stairs as the view turns green. And you step out into the stand for the very first time - into a new field of glory. A new home, not a replacement but an idea born from the original.
The first game at the new stadium in Stratford. To tell your grandchildren 'I was there, the first time Spurs played at Stratford. I was there when the cockerel stopped crowing and started shrieking triumph!'
You can be there, the first time. Be part of our history. What goes before will not be forgotten. White Hart Lane will be forever stamped in my heart as the home of football to me, but my heart has room enough for two.
If Stratford becomes the future, I would still carry the past, White Hart Lane, with me whenever I stepped onto the terraces.
Hotspur may be Tottenham, but Tottenham doesn't automatically mean Hotspur...