Why do you support Spurs?

[SonicSarr]

Because I was 6 years old and they were fairly local for a top flight team as I live in the Home Counties. I loved Hoddle, Perryman, Ardiles etc. Straight away we had the epic 'Ricky Villa cup final' win over Man City and I went to Wembley to see the Charity Shield at the start of the next season. Needless to say I was hooked.

...and my old man is a G**ner!

 

[absolute bobbins]

Because I was 6 years old and they were fairly local for a top flight team as I live in the Home Counties. I loved Hoddle, Perryman, Ardiles etc. Straight away we had the epic 'Ricky Villa cup final' win over Man City and I went to Wembley to see the Charity Shield at the start of the next season. Needless to say I was hooked.

...and my old man is a G**ner!

Did he tell you to be an Arsenal fan?

 

[SonicSarr]

Did he tell you to be an Arsenal fan?

Probably, but before I supported anybody he used to turn over the TV from Basil Brush to see the Arsenal score which pissed the pre-school me off no end. The hatred for them grew from that small acorn.

He did however get me a ticket in Arse end for the FA cup semi-final so I am probably one of the only Spurs fans to have seen Gazza's free kick from behind that goal. For that I am grateful.

 

[Misfit]

Grandad was a huge Tottenham fan. Grew up in Edmonton and saw all the glories of the 50's, 60's ans 70's first hand. Lumbered me with it in the late 80's/early 90's as a wee nipper.

I forgive him.

 

[Arnoldtoo]

I was in the playground one May when two bigger boys came up and asked me who I was supporting in the Cup Final on Saturday.

I didn't know much about football and didn't support anyone, but I was forced to choose between Spurs and Chelsea.

I chose Spurs, and they beat me up. But it was the right decision then, and it still is.

And when I get my superpowers, I'm gonna find those two boys ...

 

[nedley]

Because my mum claims she was seduced by John Duncan in the 70's when she took team photo's.

Said she never put out.

Don't believe her as like him, I know my way around a box.

 

[kursaal]

My family are all Spurs nuts. Dad and three older brothers showed me the right way.

First game they took me to was against Forest back in the 1970s. Hooked ever since! Even though we lost that day.

 

[ParklaneDazza]

Unfortunately for me I come from a large family of Arsenal fans including I might say my father. They all tried their best to turn me over to the dark side. Luckily we moved from London to leafy Essex when I was four and I soon became close friends with a lad who's family were Spurs fanatics.

Then one day much to my father's disgust they offered to take me to my first match at the lane. The date was 9th December 1978. The game Tottenham verses Ipswich. I distinctly remember having paid my 25p for my programme and £1.50 to get in, we stood in what was known as the cage situated next to the shelf.

The atmosphere that night was electric and the evening capped by a 20 yard winner from John Pratt. I'm afraid and happy to say from that magical moment on, the Gooners were a distant memory and I was well and truly hooked.

 

[Rocksuperstar]

It was a humid evening in the autumn of 1974, i was deployed in the Asia-Pacific rim; on that particular day, was placing limpet-mines on the hull of an enemy Romeo-class submarine. I had already lined the port side with those devilish little bangers and had placed three to starboard when i noticed a shadow in the water to the aft of the boat which i knew immediately to be the dark outline of a Tiger shark. Being trained in several techniques that could disable or stun the beast, knowing i had time on my side (being almost a full hour ahead of schedule at this point), i chose instead to employ a lesser known technique i was taught when stationed at the source of the Ganges river several years before. It involved emitting a gentle hum whilst making simultaneous rhythmic motions with the hands and feet. Well, i can tell you, i was as shocked as the next man when, instead of coming at me with it's savage teeth leading the charge, it gently bumped up against at which i am sure i heard a gentle mewing. A precious moment, but one that i could not wallow in for long as a noise from the other side of the metal skin of the submarine indicated that it had pulled anchor and was preparing to make way! I had allowed myself to become distracted and the mines were not all in place, so i made my apologies to the shark and set about trying to afix the remaining explosives as required before my quarry fled. However, i blush when i admit such obvious oversight and for that i hope you will understand, when i tell you that in my haste i was not paying attention to the amount of noise i was creating as my payload was adhering to the vessel and within moments i felt the vibrations of an outboard motor and knew that i was shortly to have company.

Diving low beneath the bow, i clung close to the hull and observed three frogmen enter the water, each armed with vicious looking harpoon guns and a determined scowl, atop the villainous stubble that framed their breathing apparatus. I waited until the very last moment before pouncing upon the rearmost member of the trio, pulling his mask and ventilator from his face and subduing him in one swift motion, swift enough to allow me a significant advance on the second in line who was half way turning back as i plunged into his midriff. My sub-aqua rugby football tackle took the both of us deeper into the cold dark and he managed to get his arm around my head in a crude attempt to choke me, but i had hold of his air-tubes and pulled with all my might until i felt them come free and him cough out his now useless ventilator. A few jabs to the stomach and he had consumed enough water to have drowned a man twice his size. I hesitated as he begun to sink to the bottom, but then realised that the torrent of bubbles now being released upwards could well have alerted the final member of their team, and i was right. As i turned it was just in time to see a large diving boot collide with my temple, knocking me dizzy and sending my mask askew - most uncomfortable against the manly moustache i wore at the time - but i was able to get a firm hold of one of my assailants boot straps and prevent losing my equilibrium. However, the moment of confusion was seized upon by my opponent. Clearly far better trained than his colleagues, he spun himself horizontally and wrapped his giant gloved hands around my own air pipe, folding it double and sealing off my air! As i began to lose consciousness, his grip relentless, a dark shape caught my eye briefly and i felt the pressure ease and i was consumed by darkness, thankful for my recently acquired friend, the shark!

Some time later, i awoke on a beach, surrounded by palm trees and no sign of my saviour or our opponents. I discarded much of my equipment and made my way into the tree line in the hopes of finding at the very least shelter from the sun and, hopefully, some fresh water. I had barely traveled for more than ten minutes when i heard the sounds of machinery and came across a tiny wooden door in the side of what appeared to be nothing more than a bare cliff face. I listened for a while and, hearing no voices and finding it unlocked, made my way inside.

I was greeted by a long metal stairwell, leading deep below sea level and, being presented with no other options, i made my way down to the bottom and found myself facing a rather sturdy looking metal door, with a grill to one side much like you'd find on a modern intercom system. I approached, hesitantly, as you'd expect, and cleared my throat as i wondered how i was to address this contraption but before i could speak was startled by a crackle and rather artificial voice that i recognised instantly as the Chief High Commissioner of the secret organisation that employed me! Could it be that i had stumbled across a secret satellite base? It appears it was no accident and, as the big metal door creaked and clunked open i was greeted by three familiar faces from my days back at the academy who went to great lengths to make me feel at home before explaining that they had been tasked to serve at this base for... oh, look at me rambling on, i've said too much already.

My grandad is the reason i support Spurs.

Yes, i know, nothing i typed up there has anything to do with it, but i typed a lot of it for something else and it felt a pity to waste it.

So, yeah. My grandad.

 

[Gassin's finest]

It was a humid evening in the autumn of 1974, i was deployed in the Asia-Pacific rim; on that particular day, was placing limpet-mines on the hull of an enemy Romeo-class submarine. I had already lined the port side with those devilish little bangers and had placed three to starboard when i noticed a shadow in the water to the aft of the boat which i knew immediately to be the dark outline of a Tiger shark. Being trained in several techniques that could disable or stun the beast, knowing i had time on my side (being almost a full hour ahead of schedule at this point), i chose instead to employ a lesser known technique i was taught when stationed at the source of the Ganges river several years before. It involved emitting a gentle hum whilst making simultaneous rhythmic motions with the hands and feet. Well, i can tell you, i was as shocked as the next man when, instead of coming at me with it's savage teeth leading the charge, it gently bumped up against at which i am sure i heard a gentle mewing. A precious moment, but one that i could not wallow in for long as a noise from the other side of the metal skin of the submarine indicated that it had pulled anchor and was preparing to make way! I had allowed myself to become distracted and the mines were not all in place, so i made my apologies to the shark and set about trying to afix the remaining explosives as required before my quarry fled. However, i blush when i admit such obvious oversight and for that i hope you will understand, when i tell you that in my haste i was not paying attention to the amount of noise i was creating as my payload was adhering to the vessel and within moments i felt the vibrations of an outboard motor and knew that i was shortly to have company.

Diving low beneath the bow, i clung close to the hull and observed three frogmen enter the water, each armed with vicious looking harpoon guns and a determined scowl, atop the villainous stubble that framed their breathing apparatus. I waited until the very last moment before pouncing upon the rearmost member of the trio, pulling his mask and ventilator from his face and subduing him in one swift motion, swift enough to allow me a significant advance on the second in line who was half way turning back as i plunged into his midriff. My sub-aqua rugby football tackle took the both of us deeper into the cold dark and he managed to get his arm around my head in a crude attempt to choke me, but i had hold of his air-tubes and pulled with all my might until i felt them come free and him cough out his now useless ventilator. A few jabs to the stomach and he had consumed enough water to have drowned a man twice his size. I hesitated as he begun to sink to the bottom, but then realised that the torrent of bubbles now being released upwards could well have alerted the final member of their team, and i was right. As i turned it was just in time to see a large diving boot collide with my temple, knocking me dizzy and sending my mask askew - most uncomfortable against the manly moustache i wore at the time - but i was able to get a firm hold of one of my assailants boot straps and prevent losing my equilibrium. However, the moment of confusion was seized upon by my opponent. Clearly far better trained than his colleagues, he spun himself horizontally and wrapped his giant gloved hands around my own air pipe, folding it double and sealing off my air! As i began to lose consciousness, his grip relentless, a dark shape caught my eye briefly and i felt the pressure ease and i was consumed by darkness, thankful for my recently acquired friend, the shark!

Some time later, i awoke on a beach, surrounded by palm trees and no sign of my saviour or our opponents. I discarded much of my equipment and made my way into the tree line in the hopes of finding at the very least shelter from the sun and, hopefully, some fresh water. I had barely traveled for more than ten minutes when i heard the sounds of machinery and came across a tiny wooden door in the side of what appeared to be nothing more than a bare cliff face. I listened for a while and, hearing no voices and finding it unlocked, made my way inside.

I was greeted by a long metal stairwell, leading deep below sea level and, being presented with no other options, i made my way down to the bottom and found myself facing a rather sturdy looking metal door, with a grill to one side much like you'd find on a modern intercom system. I approached, hesitantly, as you'd expect, and cleared my throat as i wondered how i was to address this contraption but before i could speak was startled by a crackle and rather artificial voice that i recognised instantly as the Chief High Commissioner of the secret organisation that employed me! Could it be that i had stumbled across a secret satellite base? It appears it was no accident and, as the big metal door creaked and clunked open i was greeted by three familiar faces from my days back at the academy who went to great lengths to make me feel at home before explaining that they had been tasked to serve at this base for... oh, look at me rambling on, i've said too much already.

My grandad is the reason i support Spurs.

Yes, i know, nothing i typed up there has anything to do with it, but i typed a lot of it for something else and it felt a pity to waste it.

So, yeah. My grandad.

Stop doing LSD and watching Stallone movies dude...

On topic: Cos of Hoddle innit

 

[dirtyh]

cos we're different. I was born to support spurs as were we all

whether that's a good thing or a bad thing, not exactly sure......

 

[NEVILLEB]

Because they have such a good balance sheet and are in the black.

It makes me happy inside

* Chris Waddle made me a Spurs fan. Still my favourite player.

 

[Rocksuperstar]

Stop doing LSD and watching Stallone movies dude...

 

[Syn_13]

It was a humid evening in the autumn of 1974, i was deployed in the Asia-Pacific rim; on that particular day, was placing limpet-mines on the hull of an enemy Romeo-class submarine. I had already lined the port side with those devilish little bangers and had placed three to starboard when i noticed a shadow in the water to the aft of the boat which i knew immediately to be the dark outline of a Tiger shark. Being trained in several techniques that could disable or stun the beast, knowing i had time on my side (being almost a full hour ahead of schedule at this point), i chose instead to employ a lesser known technique i was taught when stationed at the source of the Ganges river several years before. It involved emitting a gentle hum whilst making simultaneous rhythmic motions with the hands and feet. Well, i can tell you, i was as shocked as the next man when, instead of coming at me with it's savage teeth leading the charge, it gently bumped up against at which i am sure i heard a gentle mewing. A precious moment, but one that i could not wallow in for long as a noise from the other side of the metal skin of the submarine indicated that it had pulled anchor and was preparing to make way! I had allowed myself to become distracted and the mines were not all in place, so i made my apologies to the shark and set about trying to afix the remaining explosives as required before my quarry fled. However, i blush when i admit such obvious oversight and for that i hope you will understand, when i tell you that in my haste i was not paying attention to the amount of noise i was creating as my payload was adhering to the vessel and within moments i felt the vibrations of an outboard motor and knew that i was shortly to have company.

Diving low beneath the bow, i clung close to the hull and observed three frogmen enter the water, each armed with vicious looking harpoon guns and a determined scowl, atop the villainous stubble that framed their breathing apparatus. I waited until the very last moment before pouncing upon the rearmost member of the trio, pulling his mask and ventilator from his face and subduing him in one swift motion, swift enough to allow me a significant advance on the second in line who was half way turning back as i plunged into his midriff. My sub-aqua rugby football tackle took the both of us deeper into the cold dark and he managed to get his arm around my head in a crude attempt to choke me, but i had hold of his air-tubes and pulled with all my might until i felt them come free and him cough out his now useless ventilator. A few jabs to the stomach and he had consumed enough water to have drowned a man twice his size. I hesitated as he begun to sink to the bottom, but then realised that the torrent of bubbles now being released upwards could well have alerted the final member of their team, and i was right. As i turned it was just in time to see a large diving boot collide with my temple, knocking me dizzy and sending my mask askew - most uncomfortable against the manly moustache i wore at the time - but i was able to get a firm hold of one of my assailants boot straps and prevent losing my equilibrium. However, the moment of confusion was seized upon by my opponent. Clearly far better trained than his colleagues, he spun himself horizontally and wrapped his giant gloved hands around my own air pipe, folding it double and sealing off my air! As i began to lose consciousness, his grip relentless, a dark shape caught my eye briefly and i felt the pressure ease and i was consumed by darkness, thankful for my recently acquired friend, the shark!

Some time later, i awoke on a beach, surrounded by palm trees and no sign of my saviour or our opponents. I discarded much of my equipment and made my way into the tree line in the hopes of finding at the very least shelter from the sun and, hopefully, some fresh water. I had barely traveled for more than ten minutes when i heard the sounds of machinery and came across a tiny wooden door in the side of what appeared to be nothing more than a bare cliff face. I listened for a while and, hearing no voices and finding it unlocked, made my way inside.

I was greeted by a long metal stairwell, leading deep below sea level and, being presented with no other options, i made my way down to the bottom and found myself facing a rather sturdy looking metal door, with a grill to one side much like you'd find on a modern intercom system. I approached, hesitantly, as you'd expect, and cleared my throat as i wondered how i was to address this contraption but before i could speak was startled by a crackle and rather artificial voice that i recognised instantly as the Chief High Commissioner of the secret organisation that employed me! Could it be that i had stumbled across a secret satellite base? It appears it was no accident and, as the big metal door creaked and clunked open i was greeted by three familiar faces from my days back at the academy who went to great lengths to make me feel at home before explaining that they had been tasked to serve at this base for... oh, look at me rambling on, i've said too much already.

My grandad is the reason i support Spurs.

Yes, i know, nothing i typed up there has anything to do with it, but i typed a lot of it for something else and it felt a pity to waste it.

So, yeah. My grandad.

Busy day at work?

 

[yidstreet]

My dad and mum, two grandads two nans, two great grandads, Family supporting Spurs goes back to 1900, my kids and grandkids all spurs too, as it should be..

 

[Gassin's finest]

 

[Dinghy]

It was a humid evening in the autumn of 1974, i was deployed in the Asia-Pacific rim; on that particular day, was placing limpet-mines on the hull of an enemy Romeo-class submarine. I had already lined the port side with those devilish little bangers and had placed three to starboard when i noticed a shadow in the water to the aft of the boat which i knew immediately to be the dark outline of a Tiger shark. Being trained in several techniques that could disable or stun the beast, knowing i had time on my side (being almost a full hour ahead of schedule at this point), i chose instead to employ a lesser known technique i was taught when stationed at the source of the Ganges river several years before. It involved emitting a gentle hum whilst making simultaneous rhythmic motions with the hands and feet. Well, i can tell you, i was as shocked as the next man when, instead of coming at me with it's savage teeth leading the charge, it gently bumped up against at which i am sure i heard a gentle mewing. A precious moment, but one that i could not wallow in for long as a noise from the other side of the metal skin of the submarine indicated that it had pulled anchor and was preparing to make way! I had allowed myself to become distracted and the mines were not all in place, so i made my apologies to the shark and set about trying to afix the remaining explosives as required before my quarry fled. However, i blush when i admit such obvious oversight and for that i hope you will understand, when i tell you that in my haste i was not paying attention to the amount of noise i was creating as my payload was adhering to the vessel and within moments i felt the vibrations of an outboard motor and knew that i was shortly to have company.

Diving low beneath the bow, i clung close to the hull and observed three frogmen enter the water, each armed with vicious looking harpoon guns and a determined scowl, atop the villainous stubble that framed their breathing apparatus. I waited until the very last moment before pouncing upon the rearmost member of the trio, pulling his mask and ventilator from his face and subduing him in one swift motion, swift enough to allow me a significant advance on the second in line who was half way turning back as i plunged into his midriff. My sub-aqua rugby football tackle took the both of us deeper into the cold dark and he managed to get his arm around my head in a crude attempt to choke me, but i had hold of his air-tubes and pulled with all my might until i felt them come free and him cough out his now useless ventilator. A few jabs to the stomach and he had consumed enough water to have drowned a man twice his size. I hesitated as he begun to sink to the bottom, but then realised that the torrent of bubbles now being released upwards could well have alerted the final member of their team, and i was right. As i turned it was just in time to see a large diving boot collide with my temple, knocking me dizzy and sending my mask askew - most uncomfortable against the manly moustache i wore at the time - but i was able to get a firm hold of one of my assailants boot straps and prevent losing my equilibrium. However, the moment of confusion was seized upon by my opponent. Clearly far better trained than his colleagues, he spun himself horizontally and wrapped his giant gloved hands around my own air pipe, folding it double and sealing off my air! As i began to lose consciousness, his grip relentless, a dark shape caught my eye briefly and i felt the pressure ease and i was consumed by darkness, thankful for my recently acquired friend, the shark!

Some time later, i awoke on a beach, surrounded by palm trees and no sign of my saviour or our opponents. I discarded much of my equipment and made my way into the tree line in the hopes of finding at the very least shelter from the sun and, hopefully, some fresh water. I had barely traveled for more than ten minutes when i heard the sounds of machinery and came across a tiny wooden door in the side of what appeared to be nothing more than a bare cliff face. I listened for a while and, hearing no voices and finding it unlocked, made my way inside.

I was greeted by a long metal stairwell, leading deep below sea level and, being presented with no other options, i made my way down to the bottom and found myself facing a rather sturdy looking metal door, with a grill to one side much like you'd find on a modern intercom system. I approached, hesitantly, as you'd expect, and cleared my throat as i wondered how i was to address this contraption but before i could speak was startled by a crackle and rather artificial voice that i recognised instantly as the Chief High Commissioner of the secret organisation that employed me! Could it be that i had stumbled across a secret satellite base? It appears it was no accident and, as the big metal door creaked and clunked open i was greeted by three familiar faces from my days back at the academy who went to great lengths to make me feel at home before explaining that they had been tasked to serve at this base for... oh, look at me rambling on, i've said too much already.

My grandad is the reason i support Spurs.

Yes, i know, nothing i typed up there has anything to do with it, but i typed a lot of it for something else and it felt a pity to waste it.

So, yeah. My grandad.

(But my pedantry forces me to tell you that it's a regulator not a ventilator! )

 

[michaelden]

I'm a masochist and can't afford a decent sadist so Spurs is my only option

 

[hillbilly]

Born in Tottenham and my Dad supported Spurs.

I never had a chance.

Born in tottenham and my dad supported Arsenal. He never had a chance.

 

[mark87]

Dad is a Spurs fan and so is my older borther so I became a Spurs fan too.

My dad's parents were Spurs fans too, that's why he is. My grandad actually used to take my Dad to helsea games just to see Jimmy Greaves play as he loved Greaves.