- Jan 23, 2011
- 4,758
- 14,493
Like many on SC, I have supported the club for many, many years. Spurs is an intrinsic part of my life. Which means, I’d imagine, also like me, a fair few people here have some funny tales to tell, that in some way, shape or form, involve our beloved team. And given we’ve been having a bit of a torrid time of it this past year, I thought, why not inject a wee bit of levity. If any are game for a chuckle.
Off the top of my head, I can think of a few silly ones.
But I am going to start with one of the more recent stories:
A few years ago, I was with my wife (then, girlfriend) in Windsor for a long weekend getaway. We decided to find a pub to watch Spurs play against Juve away in the CL. I’m sure you all remember the game of which I speak. Anyways, was a bugger just finding the pub in the first place. After 20 mins of chasing our tails, we finally found Mecca.
Wasn‘t quite the paradise we were hoping for, but as is the case with me and my girl, wherever we are, we are together, and that’s all we need.
On this occasion we also needed somewhere to sit. Not that it was particularly crowded. Just sparse on tables and chairs. So, as we were doing an impression of an Ostrich in mating season, we hear a voice from a table, shouting; “Oi. Over here. Come in to watch Spurs?”. We nodded politely and he invited us to join him just below the TV. The game was just kicking off.
He was a lovely, bubbly guy called Gaz. Was likely the only Spurs fan, outside of us in the pub. We made fast friends. Had nowt in common, except our love of Tottenham. He was a talker. Told us all about the many games he goes to with his son, and how disappointed he couldn’t be watching the game with his lad that night. Which I guess explains why he took a shine to us... surrogates and such.
Okay... the game starts. And as you know, it didn’t start great. But as you also know, a certain guy by the name of Moussa Dembele then stepped up and had one of the best games for Spurs. The match itself was dramatic, full of tension and moments of joy. So much joy that Gaz felt more often than once obliged to give me a hug.
I was so attuned to the game I hadn’t noticed the pub had filled out over the last hour. More than twice as many people were there from when we first came in.
No matter. I was oblivious. Me and my new BFF Gaz was all about the game.
I can’t tell you the minute or the specific action that occurred, all I can assume is that one of our players messed something up. I suddenly roar at the TV: ‘You Pillock’!
Now, one does not notice a growing din, in the same way a lobster does not notice being boiled alive. But you know what we do notice? Is when that same noisy din, suddenly stops.
Like one of those moments in the movies, when the outtatowner walks into a bar, and the record player screeches to a halt, and all the dead eyed patrons look up at the ne’rdoweller with a scowl.
It was just like that. Even my brother-from-another-mother, Gaz was speechless. Until he smiles and said quite loudly: “It’s been twenty years since I’ve heard someone use the word, ‘pillock’”. He then laughed... as did the entire pub. And it wasn’t a mean laugh. A callous, take the piss laugh. It was one of genuine mirth and warmth... a random shared experience amongst complete strangers.
The game ended. As did our date with Gaz...
But not before the barman shouted across the room: “Hey, Pillock boy... don’t forget your card’s behind the bar”. More laughing. This time at me.
Did I mind? Not a jot.
Still makes me smile ‘til this day.?
well not sure about the rest of your “pillocks”, but I have a few more of those, including a rather strange tale about Darren Anderton and a med student at Southampton University. ?
Off the top of my head, I can think of a few silly ones.
But I am going to start with one of the more recent stories:
A few years ago, I was with my wife (then, girlfriend) in Windsor for a long weekend getaway. We decided to find a pub to watch Spurs play against Juve away in the CL. I’m sure you all remember the game of which I speak. Anyways, was a bugger just finding the pub in the first place. After 20 mins of chasing our tails, we finally found Mecca.
Wasn‘t quite the paradise we were hoping for, but as is the case with me and my girl, wherever we are, we are together, and that’s all we need.
On this occasion we also needed somewhere to sit. Not that it was particularly crowded. Just sparse on tables and chairs. So, as we were doing an impression of an Ostrich in mating season, we hear a voice from a table, shouting; “Oi. Over here. Come in to watch Spurs?”. We nodded politely and he invited us to join him just below the TV. The game was just kicking off.
He was a lovely, bubbly guy called Gaz. Was likely the only Spurs fan, outside of us in the pub. We made fast friends. Had nowt in common, except our love of Tottenham. He was a talker. Told us all about the many games he goes to with his son, and how disappointed he couldn’t be watching the game with his lad that night. Which I guess explains why he took a shine to us... surrogates and such.
Okay... the game starts. And as you know, it didn’t start great. But as you also know, a certain guy by the name of Moussa Dembele then stepped up and had one of the best games for Spurs. The match itself was dramatic, full of tension and moments of joy. So much joy that Gaz felt more often than once obliged to give me a hug.
I was so attuned to the game I hadn’t noticed the pub had filled out over the last hour. More than twice as many people were there from when we first came in.
No matter. I was oblivious. Me and my new BFF Gaz was all about the game.
I can’t tell you the minute or the specific action that occurred, all I can assume is that one of our players messed something up. I suddenly roar at the TV: ‘You Pillock’!
Now, one does not notice a growing din, in the same way a lobster does not notice being boiled alive. But you know what we do notice? Is when that same noisy din, suddenly stops.
Like one of those moments in the movies, when the outtatowner walks into a bar, and the record player screeches to a halt, and all the dead eyed patrons look up at the ne’rdoweller with a scowl.
It was just like that. Even my brother-from-another-mother, Gaz was speechless. Until he smiles and said quite loudly: “It’s been twenty years since I’ve heard someone use the word, ‘pillock’”. He then laughed... as did the entire pub. And it wasn’t a mean laugh. A callous, take the piss laugh. It was one of genuine mirth and warmth... a random shared experience amongst complete strangers.
The game ended. As did our date with Gaz...
But not before the barman shouted across the room: “Hey, Pillock boy... don’t forget your card’s behind the bar”. More laughing. This time at me.
Did I mind? Not a jot.
Still makes me smile ‘til this day.?
well not sure about the rest of your “pillocks”, but I have a few more of those, including a rather strange tale about Darren Anderton and a med student at Southampton University. ?