Interlude – 15/16 – 1860 Munich

21/11/2015

1860 Munich 2 St Pauli 0

Bundesliga 2 – Allianz Arena, Munich

Clubs which sit in the shadow of larger city rivals have my respect. I often wonder what’s it like to be the poorer performing team of a city. Even more so when the bigger club is in fact the nation’s most successful club. You are forever the underdog. Enter stage, 1860 Munich

While on our domestic travels, we had debated an European trip away. Whilst Leicester were away at Newcastle in mid November, Munich and their second club 1860 fitted the bill. St Pauli as opposition added a layer of intrigue given their label of a ‘pirate club’. The Hamburg club were also positioned 2^nd in the table and in midst of great form.

Bundesliga 2 is a mix of underachieving, traditional clubs and smaller, well-funded teams. Mostly notably this shows in the attendances; certain clubs are capable of pulling in fifty thousand, while others struggle to make five figures. The attendances for Sechzig are inconsistent; an average attendance in the 2014/2015 season of 21,218 yet when hosting Dortmund in the Cup and Holstein Kiel in the relegation play-off, there were 60,000 sell-outs. Such dips and peaks in crowds are affected by the television scheduling in Bundesliga 2 where three games are held on Friday early evenings and a single game on a Monday

After a Friday evening spent bizarrely tailgating our way into our Air BnB flat and drinking considering amounts at the nearby bar (that we definitely didn’t purposely ensure we were staying nearby), we hit Marienplatz on Saturday morning to find it apparent 1860 were playing. As a second club of the city, you didn’t expect it to be so visible. The Sky Blue shirts and scarves felt a contrast to the posh, reserved streets of inner city Munich.

When the Bundesliga was formed in 1963 and to ensure geographical distribution, a club from each region was selected. It was 1860 as opposed to Bayern who took Bavaria’s spot. The 1960s were glorious as 1860 won the Bundesliga in 1966, came runners-up in 1967 and won the Cup Winners Cup in 1965.  By the end of the decade, they were relegated. It took until 1994 before the club sustained a top flight spell. In 2000, they played in the qualifying stages of the Champions League. 

Then the woes started to where the club finds itself now. After relegation and financial issues, the club sold their share in the Allianz Arena over to Bayern Munich. The money situation worsen and Bayern offered a loan to keep Sechzig functioning. 

1860 were eventually ‘saved’. The Jordanian business man Hasan Ismaik bought a percentage of the club and invested money to service the debts. After the initial investment, it’s been a cycle of underachievement with promising prospects such as Julian Wiegl sold to Borussia Dortmund. 

From Marienplatz subway station, we headed towards the Allianz Arena. A week previous a set of bombings targeting restaurants, football stadiums and music venues had occurred in Paris. Security was high. Compared to my previous trips to Germany, there was less easy vibe on the journey to the Football. There was no one hanging around with a drink at the destination tube station. There were no songs or chants. The colder weather also adding to the slightly sterile edge. 

We would accuse a stadium like this in the UK of lacking character and being detacted. Pitched in the surroundings of a business park. However, a great, easy to use metro system makes it less of a problem. As we ascended from the hill of the station’s exit, the bubble shaped exterior of the Allianz stood. 

With increased security searches, it took some time to gain access but once inside, we were free to walk around the stadium. The lower tier seats are below ground level while the upper two tiers are those enveloped within the bubble membrane. Despite the wow factor of the external façade, the internal aesthetic is concrete; a penalty of the stadium’s shared nature, neither team able to put their own stamp on it. The enormity and the uniformity of the arena made it so impressive. 

We stood behind the goal towards the side of the 1860’s ultras. While we were stood in a seated area, the Ultras had a traditional terrace area. Opposite, there was a large terrace section where the Bayern ultras would be located on their home games. St Pauli’s away support had taken a good section of this and most of the higher tier seating. 

St Pauli are the notorious, non-confirmative club of Germany. I was intrigued to see their support at first hand. Their large travelling support was remarkable in numerous. Hamburg to Munich is a 7 hour train ride. It is likely to boosted by supporters who live in the more business minded and academical Bavaria. They were loud without being particularly showy; it was more notable how their supporters dressed in punk fashion. 1860 equally were loud and boisterous.

St Pauli dominated with their team full of youthful players talented on the ball. They should have had the lead when a Lennart Thy header hit the bar and the home goalkeeper save the rebound. 1860s support had this resigned feeling; displaying frustration towards players who fail to achieve the simplest of tasks. 

However, 1860 then adopted a more robust tactic of frenzied pressing which worked their supporters in a more supportive nature. Their two winning goals were excellent if unjust.  

Michael Linedl’s goal from just outside of the box disguised his own personal poor performance. Rubin Okotie with a quick turn and shot doubled the lead in quick succession. St Pauli went gung ho in a bid to get back into the game and this allowed Sechzig to counter-attack again and again. They could have added to their lead but failed to take advantage of their openings. It did not cost them. Three vital points to hopefully hold off relegation. 

We had the afternoon ahead. The beerhouses awaited. A bunch of Bayern fans told us they were happy 1860 won which bemused. A similar look was displayed by them as we explained Leicester were high up in the Premier League and that Jamie Vardy was in the process of equalling Ruud Van Nistelrooy’s consecutive goalscoring Premier League record. We were in the famous Hofbrauhaus when it was confirmed Leicester would be top of the table. More Steins please. 

A bar later. A conversation with a Swiss 80 year old. A subway journey of singing Leicester songs. Every dog has their day; I slurred towards a St Pauli fan on the final bar of the night. What a day. Not that much can be remembered.

Venezuelan Rum & Vardy – Part II – 15/16 – Southampton

17/10/2015

Southampton 2 Leicester City 2

Premier League – St Mary’s Stadium, Southampton

Both Leicester City FC and Southampton FC have similarities. An identikit stadium as a home. From comparable sized ‘provincial’ cities. We both went down to the third tier and then alongside financial takeovers, achieved a path back to the top flight. At the impasse of October 2015, it was two pretenders to the top six.

However, Southampton’s start to the season in 2015/16 had been a stutter. Their Europa League qualification became a quick jaunt. Leicester had adopted the role that Southampton previously possessed. Challenging the elite.  In last two seasons, the south coast club excelled finishing 8th and then 7^th (unfortunate not to be 6^th – final day loss to Manchester City). As a result, players such as Adam Lallana, Luke Shaw, Toby Alderweireld departed.  Whilst retaining some of their stars, the results had not been perfect.

St Mary’s Stadium was the only remaining ground I had yet to visit in this season’s Premier League. When recently working on the South Coast and in particular, Isle of Wight, it was clear how well represented the club are and how large of a catchment area they have. After picking up Ben from the outskirts of London, we were early into Southampton. Too early for the pubs to be open and no intentions of doing anything else. How to pass the time? Drinking Venezuelan rum in a car park. Ben had funnelled, some of his housemate Santiago’s notorious rum. A classy look at 10.45 am. It was a wake up at least for my non driving brother. 

While circling for an open pub, Southampton felt dated. Admittedly, we appeared to be in the university area of the city and everything was targeted to the students. We found refuge in a Wetherspoons. Before eventually arriving at our researched ‘The Tap Room’ pub. An awful experience. Only three beers available. One of which was a cherry sour beer. Food average. No sport to take our minds off it. 

Hence, we headed to St Mary’s Stadium early passing through the campus of the university and then arriving at a bottleneck of a bridge (over a railway) to where you could see the stadium on your right. It is not impressive by any means. It is what the Americans call a ‘cookie cutter’ stadium. Multi-purpose. It could host numerous events or sports and it was built affordably rather than to be a showy arena. 

Southampton’s attendances much like Leicester’s have remained good for a decent spell of time. It was a sell-out on this afternoon. There is a model club feel to Southampton – their re-building from the third tier supplemented by an academy producing talented players and an excellent scouting system. However, the difficultly us once established maintaining the balance between ambition and stability. 

Their exit from Europe was disappointing. Europa League is devalued by some, yet every fan of a ‘provincial’ club wants the pride of watching their team abroad. The hierarchy of a football club however will prioritise the more financially benefitting competitions. The disconnect here is one of the saddest symptoms of modern football. 

This conflict has been very real in the summer of 2015 at Southampton. Their best players sold and the accusation from the supporters is a lack of ambition. Replacements eventually did arrive, but it could be argued too late to make an impact this season. The expectation is of further departures too. 

The penalty of a ‘smaller’ club overachieving. I remind myself that as Riyad Mahrez cuts apart another defence that he will not be here forever. A bigger club will sign him. As fans of our clubs, we all want to see us move onto the ‘next level’. However, to earn sustained success, you cannot build a single team. The squad has to evolve. You have to be a further step ahead on producing or finding the next Riyad Mahrez. Within the Premier League era, no ‘lesser’ club has ever managed that sustained success for numerous years. 

The first half could have been billed as the master teaching the apprentice a lesson. After early openings were spurned by Leicester, Southampton ended up taking a two goal lead at half-time. Corners have a consistent issue for Leicester well, since forever. First, Jose Fonte beat everyone to a corner and flicked-on at the front post into the net. Then Virgil Van Dijk got the second as he met a flick-on at a corner. His initial effort hit the post and his follow-up steps ensured the rebound went in. Later it was shown to be offside but it was pretty deserving of the Saints dominance in the first half. The confidence from the first half translating into ‘Ole’s’ from the home crowds and the inane ‘You’re fucking shit’ chant. 

In a salvage bid, Claudio Ranieri made two substitutions. Nathan Dyer and Riyad Mahrez came on for Shinji Okazaki and Jeffrey Schlupp who’d both played internationals in the week. From here, it was blitzkrieg football from Leicester City. Nathan Dyer’s trickery and cross found Jamie Vardy’s head to half the home sides lead. Quickly after Vardy missed a great chance to equaliser from a Dyer cutback. 

The momentum of the game led to an exciting conclusion. Saido Mane could have secured the win for Southampton when they broke but rather than squaring a ball to a team-mate for a free run at goal, he attempted a long-distance chip which Kasper Schmeichel caught. It proved costly. 

A mistake by Kelvin Davis with a woeful goal kick; Riyad Mahrez dribbled with the ball. Slipped in a perfect through ball. Vardy in supreme confidence ran onto to it and then empathically smashed the ball home for a last-minute equaliser. Cue running down towards the touchline to ram those silly chants back towards the Saints fans. 

A smile never left our faces during our post match drink. We were cruising in the top part of the English top flight. Glorious times as a Leicester fan are few, you enjoy them whilst they last. You take every bit of positive emotion and cherish it.

Fresh Start – Part I – 15/16 – Upton Park, West Ham

15/08/2015

West Ham United 1 Leicester City 2 – Premier League

Upton Park, London

As I sat scrolling through my phone on the train down to London, a memory popped up. Middlesbrough Away. Parmo. Sun. A shock win. The beginning of the journey which now found me here. First away trip of the season, West Ham. One of the protagonists in the adventures to date had departed. Nigel Pearson was no longer the manager. Esteban Cambiasso, one of the other heroes of the ‘Great Escape’ chose not to renew his contract. A summer of sombre feeling had left most Leicester fans questioning the fortunes of the season ahead. 

Enter Claudio Ranieri. Possessor of an experienced CV. His last managerial job was a disaster with the Greek national team. The media had sharpened their knives. Predictions galore that Leicester would be relegated and Ranieri, first manager to leave his role. However, an opening day victory against Sunderland suggested there was going to be no immediate slump in performance. The direct running and pressing which inspired the Foxes at the end of last season remained in a one-sided 5-2 result past a potential relegation rival. 

The first awayday had its attractions. London always an enjoyable jaunt. West Ham United were beginning their final season at Upton Park. Before the game, me and my brother joined my friend Ben whom acting as local tour guide took us around Bermondsey. We visited the haunts of the food market and the beer mile. On the last occasion, I was going through these streets, it was sat on a coach after a moody Millwall reaction to an away win for the Foxes. 

We firstly visited the closing tap room of the Kernel Brewery. Followed by a Salt Beef sandwich with pickles from Monty’s Deli to line the stomachs of ourselves. We finished off in the ‘Bottle Shop’ sampling a couple of beers in the railway arches before heading back to the local underground station. Onwards to Upton Park.

On that stroll, London’s gentrification was evident as apartments were springing up on any empty land and from this formerly ‘rough’ estate, the skyline of the Shard stood out right ahead as an aspirational landmark of the city. Similarly such changes are occurring to Stratford, where West Ham’s new home of the Olympic Stadium is located. The streets around Upton Park had yet to fall to the same development schemes. It was easy to see how West Ham’s owners sitting on an appetising strip of land and a nearby stadium needing a tenant was an attractive business proposition.

Even more so when the tax-payer was to pay for the majority of the reconfiguration works to the stadium. The whole fall-out of the Olympic legacy and it’s stadium is worthy of a far better informed blog than this and I’d find it difficult for it not to be a rage rant. 

Sadly, the community feel of Upton Park will be lost. It could be described as dirty and tatty. However, the image of Green Street is far more real symbol of London than any up and coming area may be. Whilst very few West Ham fans live in the surroundings, their matchday rituals will change from that of generations. The colourful row of food market, newsagents, cafes and aging pubs will either die or become a neutral set of chain stores. 

It was only in 2001 that Upton Park was recently re-developed. The Betway Stand stands eye-catchingly positioned on Green Street. It’s design replicating a double set of brickwork built castle turrets. It was the largest single stand in London at 15,000 capacity. The away fans are located in the Trevor Brooking Stand, a modern two tier construction which is repeated opposite with the Bobby Moore Stand. The smaller stand, the East Stand, is by far the oldest. Previously the famous location of the famous Chicken Run. The low roof of the East Stand gives the Boleyn Ground a feeling of its age and location. Two large 1950s tower blocks overlook the stadium from behind it. Given the reasonable capacity of 35,000, the owners are pitching the stadium move as a need to answer ticket demand from the club’s support. 

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The Hammers impressive opening day 1-0 win away at Arsenal had breed a sense of optimism. However, Leicester took advantage of the home side’s narrow midfield diamond formation and the open wide flanks. The away team’s ability to counter at pace quickly put them two goals up. 

Jamie Vardy provided the first goal; his strong run leading to a cross finding Shiinji Okazaki, who spectacularly unleashed a scissors kick. His effort was saved by the West Ham goalkeeper Adrian but the Japanese striker followed up with a header forcing the ball into the net. On another counter-attack, the lead was doubled. Okazaki holding the ball up well, his pass found Marc Albrighton whose cutback to Riyad Mahrez was met with a great finish. 

Shellshock reigned in both ends of the ground; how easy Leicester found the second goal to score and West Ham so excellent in defence the week previous shredded quickly. The second half however provided nervier for the away fans. West Ham picking up the tempo, the ball passed quicker and using the wings more effectively. Dmitiri Payet got a goal back; his effort arrowed into the top corner from the edge of the box. 

Ranieri showed all the tactical nous of an Italian. With a player down injured, he carried out substitutions and broke the momentum built up by the home side. Their attacks became more desperate, and Leicester had more opportunities to break. This built to the final act of the game; a corner from West Ham was cleared, Vardy raced onto it but was met by an attempted bicycle kick from the Hammers’ goalkeeper, Adrian. Instead he kicked Vardy’s chin. A straight red card. 

A hour later, we sat in a pub on the edge of Shoreditch. An away victory always satisfies. There was an initial calm, but it wasn’t later in the evening. A full match analysis and assessment to the prospects of the forthcoming season discussed in a Brick Lane curry house with fellow Leicester folk Gary Lineker and Willy Thorne as company (as pictures on the walls). My day finished on a poor note. I mistakenly got the wrong train home. Instead, a slow three hours stopping at every station that existed rather than a ninety minute express. 2 am, I hit my bed. All to do it again soon. 

The Great Escape 2015 – Part 3 – Redemption

Saturday 16th May 2015

Sunderland 0 Leicester City 0 -Premier League

Stadium of Light, Sunderland

 

Three games of differing emotions. An epic trilogy. Our fortunes since that loss at Tottenham had taken an upwards turn yet six wins in seven games had not secured survival. As rival teams were getting increasingly desperate, their form improved. Before the win at West Brom, any enquiry I made to others about joining for the long trip to Sunderland was met negatively. However, as it nearer, this fixture at the Stadium of Light increasingly looked decisive and tickets were quickly snapped up. 

Sunderland similarly had turned in their form around. Dick Advocaat acting as a saviour developed them into a defensive strong unit. A win for either club would see them safe from relegation before the final day of fixtures. The Mackems had been capable of the shambolic and the mediocre across 2014/2015; a 8-0 loss to Southampton was a particular low point. Due to the city’s geographical position, they struggle to attract players who’d prefer the more affluent suburbs of Manchester and London. When they do find a quality player, it is not long before they depart. All to a background of a club whom attracted the sixth largest average attendance in the top flight of this season and a rich history of success. (Although their last trophy was the 1973 FA Cup)

Every time you approach the North East by car or train, the journey through the open landscapes of Yorkshire and Teeside confirms the detached feeling. We were heading straight for the Isis. No, it is not the local recruiting spot for terrorists but instead a pub named after the Egyptian god. From its entrance, you could see the steel frame silhouette of the Stadium of Light in the distance. The city feels like it breathes football, and the stadium is the church. 

Our stomachs full of booze and burgers, we headed towards the ground. Nervous? A tad. The crowds built up as we walked over the Wearmouth bridge which illustrated how Sunderland is a port city. More and more fans collecting together snaking through an industrial estate to the Stadium of Light. The name is taken from Benfica’s Estadio da Luz whilst also referring to the local mining industry and the historical use of lamps. 

The impact of the stadiums enormity is hidden by the pitch being below ground level. Still, it is a heart-rate inducing stairwell to tackle up towards the away end. Not helpful before a relegation six pointer. Due to the overhanging roof, you felt enclosed from this high position, as though you are watching through a letter box. To the right of us, was the main three-tier West Stand containing the media facilities and substitute benches whilst the rest of stadium is pretty generic in design if large in size. 

To help calm the anxieties of the situation, the travelling support was in fine voice. Equally so, the home fans. The The game was typically scrappy. Sunderland started better and Kasper Schmeichel had to make two magnificent saves first from Sebastian Larsson and then Danny Graham. Leicester were suffering from apprehension of the occasion and improved as the game wore on. Jamie Vardy had a shot blocked by a Sunderland defender after a succession of corners. 

Scores elsewhere at the half-time break had hardly changed the situation at the bottom; Newcastle were beating already relegated QPR 1-0 and Hull were playing out a goalless draw at Spurs. We just needed to better Hull’s result. 

The second half was full of industry and effort. Two very good defences cancelling out each other’s creative players. Then whispers spread amongst the away end, many checking their phones to find that Spurs were now beating Hull and the game in front of us was taking a back seat. Leicester were staying up. Quickly, Newcastle were losing too; we still needed a point though. 

Once Sunderland’s substitutions had failed to spark, the game lulled into neutrality. A new steel had been discovered in the Foxes defence led by loanee Robert Huth and gifts were not going to be delivered today. Spurs were two up and we were nearly there. It had been an awful game. I couldn’t care. Andrej Kramaric for the Foxes should have won it but failed to hit the target with a goalkeeper scrambling back to his line. Now it felt a reality. The release of satisfaction on the final whistle was enormous and immense. We had somehow done it from a position of acceptance. We stayed until every one of those players had left the pitch. Those Sunderland fans still hanging about respectfully applauded the Leicester player’s off the pitch. 

We strolled to the Isis for a victory drink. On the way, I was happy to do imitation celebrations on an empty disused field. I even managed a Roger Milla dance. It was a silly relief. After a drink discussing our moments of the season, we embarked on the long journey home smug with satisfaction.  

The whole season had embodied what being a regular supporter of your football club is all about; that ride involving the emotions of joy, despair, hope and pride. A few weeks ago we had all but accepted relegation after the Tottenham game, the post-match conversations were bittersweet on what could have been. Now we were travelling back from Sunderland planning next season. Next season. There is always next season. 

This part of the Great Escape 2015 Series

Part 1 – Resignation – is here

Part 2 – Hope – is here

 

The Great Escape 2015 – Part 2 – Hope

Saturday 11th April 2015

West Bromwich Albion 2 Leicester City 3 – Premier League

The Hawthorns, Birmingham

Football can be a tease. If the visit to Spurs had signified acceptance, this visit to the Hawthorns symbolised hope. A late winner at home to West Ham in the previous game gave a winning feeling which hadn’t been encountered in a very long time. However, the results of rivals had not fell in Leicester’s favour and the premise of the season still looked doomed. 

In the week leading up to this, it reminded of the climax to the 2007/08 season. A trip to Barnsley was fraught with nerves. We won 1-0 and we had the dream that we would save ourselves from relegation to the third tier. A game later, we lost to Sheffield Wednesday at home and a failure to win at Stoke City ensured the drop. I wanted to avoid this fated feeling of hopeless expectation I had felt back then. 

Myself, my brother and my friend, Ben met together in the morning rather relaxed. There was no expectation. We drank in the Lord Clifden and Rose Villa Tavern situated in the Jewellery Quarter district of Birmingham with a sheepish acceptance. Birmingham City were hosting Wolverhampton at St Andrews and in avoidance of their hordes, we swerved the city centre. Of course, the last time we did go for a drink in the centre of Birmingham (before the trip to Villa Park), we were told by someone that Leicester were down for certain. And this in early December! It would be nice to avoid any gloating in confirmation of that. 

West Bromwich is commonly referred to as part of the Black Country, but you’ll find the Hawthorns is located to the Birmingham side of the M5. The Baggies source support from a variety of towns in the area; Oldbury, Smethwick and the largest of these, Dudley. Birmingham’s football fabric is indeed pickled with no clear drawn lines of where Aston Villa or Birmingham City draw their fans from. 

West Bromwich Albion found themselves in a quandary of safety but at the penalty of playing style. Led by Tony Pulis, they lacked flare and whilst steady in the top flight, there was a failure to claim success along the way which similar sized clubs such as Stoke City and Swansea City had achieved. Their results were mixed; getting hammered by Queens Park Rangers 4-1 did not help Leicester on the previous weekend and neither did it satisfy a restless home support. 

We had visited West Brom before together; a sobering Good Friday defeat which was memorable for the over the top policing. Coming out of The Hawthorns station, the stadium can be found in a mix of residential streets and brickwork industrial units. On our approach, predictions were cited with only my brother confident of victory. In a bid to initiate some superstition, Ben was wearing the same clothes from the win over West Ham. Anything was being used to try give us an advantage. The club were providing a free blue t-shirt which corresponded in other epic away victories at Nottingham Forest and Burnley. 

Albion were using the day as a celebration of their legendary striker Jeff Astle’s life. It was the anniversary of his own debut against Leicester. West Brom would wear the same kit from the 1968 FA Cup Final where Astle scored the winner. Upon Astle’s death, it was declared that Alzheimer’s was the cause, but his family believe the damage occurred by heading the heavy, brown footballs of the 1960s had majorly contributed (It is now in 2021 that the FA are issuing guidance in restricting the heading of the ball in training). A sold out crowd were present to celebrate and remember. 

The Hawthorns is the highest located ground in the country, but the spring sun defeated its traditional cold micro climate. Redeveloped during the 1990s, the Hawthorns feels contemporary and well sized. A single side of the stadium remains a different height to the rest. The Smethwick End is a single stand split between the home and away support with the opposite Birmingham Road End two-tiered but the same height. The East Stand appears larger with its exposed frame but contains a single tier of seats with rows of VIP boxes at the top. 

After a rotten first half, there was very little belief in a comeback as Albion led 2-1. The Foxes were constantly wasting possession which was the cause of the first goal. A free-kick awarded after losing the ball and Darren Fletcher flicked a header in at the front post to make it 1-0. Given the occasion of the day, it was not a surprise that the Baggies would dominate early on. Hence the equaliser was a surprise, a quick free-kick flicked on by Leonardo Ulloa was met by David Nugent who struck home with his left foot. 

The goal to take the lead was from a messy scramble in the 18 yard box. A poorly cleared cross was met by Craig Gardner whose unclean volley took a deflection and bobbled into the net. Yep, we were heading down. Results elsewhere were not helpful either. 

The second half was a stark contrast to that of the first half for Leicester fans. It appeared Nigel Pearson had thrown the proverbial kitchen sink at it. Three at the back and three strikers up front. Leicester repeatedly attacked and found the home side lacking stamina and will. With twenty-five minutes to play, I had a lump in my throat. A positive result didn’t look likely to occur. Last chance saloon.

Should I have doubted? A corner ball was recycled back towards the 18 yard box by Nugent. Marcin Wasilewski headed back across goal. Robert Huth met it. The defender on the line failed to clear. A life-line was handed. It wasn’t finished there either. West Brom paralysed by a defensive substitution; they now had four central defenders on the pitch. 

Then. Jamie Vardy robbed Gareth McAuley on the halfway line, he set about towards the goal. Squaring up against Joleon Lescott, he knocked it past him. On his wrong left foot. Whack! Bottom Corner. Bedlam. Bodies across the away end. Voice gone. 3-2. Three points. 

The post-match beverages tasted sweet. In fact, it gave such an influenced flavour that the Sierra Nevada Stout consumed in Post Office Vaults was subsequently ordered by my brother on Amazon. 24 bottles of it. He later drank just two of them. Proving we could have drank Birmingham Canal Water and it would have been the amber nectar. 

The conversations were now of the chance to stay up as opposed to the fears of relegation. Here was the rebirth of hope. Although, I’d told myself never to be bitten again. But then what is being a football fan without it? I don’t particularly enjoy the burden of expectation. However, it’s the array of emotion you experience what make it all so exhilarating. Roll on the season finale. 

*This is the second part in the trilogy of the Great Escape 2015.

Find Part 1 – Resignation @ Tottenham Hotspur – https://3onsaturday.wordpress.com/2021/03/21/the-great-escape-2015-part-1-resignation/