she’s barely 14 weeks pregnant, just spent seven days gallivanting around scotland with my family, and wraps it all up by going with me (split seats mind you) to see tottenham hotspur at white hart lane.
i’ve been following tottenham since i’ve been following the premier league — and the thought of seeing them in their 110 year old stadium has been clattering around my head ever since we bought the ridiculously overpriced tickets six weeks ago.
it’s crescendo-ed to the point that this morning i was certifiably out of my mind — giddy enough that i managed to lose my wallet touring st. paul’s cathedral, but barely even noticing the rather large problem as my tickets to the lane were locked away elsewhere.
we had planned on taking the tube to Seven Sisters, and making a twenty minute hike up hill to the stadium — but there was some variation on london’s perennial track work, so we detoured to another line and cabbed over.
(speaking of, when the lady sparkler and i were buying tube tickets, our cashier was an aresnal fan — tottenham’s arch nemesis — and she was utterly unable to say either “tottenham” or “white hart lane” outloud without cringing.)
(seriously, she kept starting to say something … catching herself … stopping … and saying “your destination” instead.)
when we got to the lane, we walked a couple of laps — soaking it all in. by the time we actually entered the stadium it was already time for player introductions.
i walked through the tunnel to the orchestral magesty of John Williams “Dual of the Fates.” it was glorious.
it’s been a day, and i honestly don’t remember much about the match itself.
i remember being in the front row, with a bunch of 20-something men. i remember screaming my head off. i remember being told to sit down by the extraordinarily polite stewards, a dozen times or more.
and, i remember tottenham winning off of a curling 25-yard effort from Jermain Jenas.
but, most of all i remember the chants, and the whole stadium — 35,000 strong — singing “oh when the spurs go marching in” in unision. i can still hear the glory glory ringing around in my ears.
![[Tottenham Hotspur vs. West Bromwich Albion, White Hart Lane, Tottenham, London, England, UK.]](https://theparkerfamily.org/wp-content/uploads/2009/05/3511216547_4f81659773.jpg)
![[Tottenham Hotspur vs. West Bromwich Albion, White Hart Lane, Tottenham, London, England, UK.]](https://theparkerfamily.org/wp-content/uploads/2009/05/3511217027_9e872a37cb.jpg)
![[White Hart Lane, Tottenham, London, England, UK.]](https://theparkerfamily.org/wp-content/uploads/2009/05/3511215043_879bfb15ae.jpg)
she’s barely 14 weeks pregnant, just spent seven days gallivanting around scotland with my family, and wraps it all up by going with me (split seats mind you) to see tottenham hotspur at white hart lane.
i’ve been following tottenham since i’ve been following the premier league — and the thought of seeing them in their 110 year old stadium has been clattering around my head ever since we bought the ridiculously overpriced tickets six weeks ago.
it’s crescendo-ed to the point that this morning i was certifiably out of my mind — giddy enough that i managed to lose my wallet touring st. paul’s cathedral, but barely even noticing the rather large problem as my tickets to the lane were locked away elsewhere.
we had planned on taking the tube to Seven Sisters, and making a twenty minute hike up hill to the stadium — but there was some variation on london’s perennial track work, so we detoured to another line and cabbed over.
(speaking of, when the lady sparkler and i were buying tube tickets, our cashier was an aresnal fan — tottenham’s arch nemesis — and she was utterly unable to say either “tottenham” or “white hart lane” outloud without cringing.)
(seriously, she kept starting to say something … catching herself … stopping … and saying “your destination” instead.)
when we got to the lane, we walked a couple of laps — soaking it all in. by the time we actually entered the stadium it was already time for player introductions.
i walked through the tunnel to the orchestral magesty of John Williams “Dual of the Fates.” it was glorious.
it’s been a day, and i honestly don’t remember much about the match itself.
i remember being in the front row, with a bunch of 20-something men. i remember screaming my head off. i remember being told to sit down by the extraordinarily polite stewards, a dozen times or more.
and, i remember tottenham winning off of a curling 25-yard effort from Jermain Jenas.
but, most of all i remember the chants, and the whole stadium — 35,000 strong — singing “oh when the spurs go marching in” in unision. i can still hear the glory glory ringing around in my ears.
glorious.