Pre-Match Thoughts
It’s 9am, the sun is shining bright here in Sin City and optimism about this afternoon’s clash is rearing its ugly head. For all their summer changes, several of which benefited us of course, Spurs were beaten by Boro last week and didn’t impress. Our record at White Hart Lane doesn’t bear thinking about, but it’s time for a change and of course Malbranque and Chimbonda are going to be playing out of their skins. It’s looking like Healy and or Cisse will play at least some of the game and with this much-needed boost in firepower I think we can get an early goal and get the home crowd rattled.

Getting There and Getting In
I knew that the bars near White Hart Lane wouldn’t entertain any Sunderland fans so I opted to meet my old mates Anth and Eamon in one of my favourite pubs, The Albany, just opposite Great Portland Street station. Eamon’s wife, Mel, also came along and she’d never been to a match before. I predicted a 2-2 draw while Mel said we’d win 1-0. The Victoria Line up to Seven Sisters was roasting and I asked if Anth had red-face reduction on his camera as he took a few photos. There were a few red and white shirts as well as some from Spurs on the bus from there up to the ground and the atmosphere was easy-going. The security guards at our turnstiles told me that I couldn’t take my laptop inside but were just having a laugh and affixed a security band around my shoulder-bag, which I’d never seen before. They asked Anth if he had any cans on him and he replied, “No” so they just let him go by without a search. Walking up those stairs to the upper tier I wondered if it was all a hoax as nobody else was around and it was deathly silent but when we opened the doors at the top, we were met by a sea of red and white and much chanting about Cisse. As I queued up to get a couple of bottles of Carlsberg, the bloke in front of me, whom I’d never seen before, turned to say hello. That’s something I really like about away games; perfect strangers can greet you warmly because they know just why you’re there.

The Match
Somewhere in the drunken bowels of the stadium I thought I’d heard Higginbotham’s name mentioned in the line-up and my heart sank. I like him but thought he was no longer part of our plans and wondered where Chimbonda was. It was still bright and sunny as we took our seats around 2.50 and as the teams emerged I slowly pieced our formation together. I tried not to find out about the Spurs line-up as I figured the less I knew, the less afraid I could be. Spurs had the best of the opening five minutes and Lennon was looking dangerous down our left side but for the rest of the half we more than held our own and the spirit and skill we showed against Liverpool was there again. Our fans had clearly already taken Cisse to their hearts and as he warmed up down the line on the half-hour mark, there were loud chants of “Oway, oway-oway-oway! Cisse! Cisse!” A little earlier Keano had bestrode the line and soon prompted a chant to the Spurs fans of, “Where’s Your Keano Gone?” to the tune of Middle of the Road’s 1971 smash ‘Chirpy Chirpy Cheep Cheep’. A guy behind me repeatedly shouted comments about a Spurs player each of which ended with, “…the racist bastard!” though of course I couldn’t say for sure who he was referring to. I’ve never heard a fan make such a comment before. The highlight of the half for us was when Malbranque hit the left post in the fortieth minute and we looked like we meant business. Diouf was impressive but despite his great skills on the ground he wasn’t getting much change in aerial duels against the bigger Spurs defenders. Richardson was buzzing around and looking very effective. 0-0 at half-time felt good and we deserved it too.

We started brightly in the second-half and after a couple of good headers at either end, ours being from Collins, we took the lead after 54 minutes when Richardson slammed it into the bottom right-hand corner from the edge of the box before ripping his shirt off and celebrating as close to our fans as permitted. Almost immediately Lennon was subbed for some reason, but I wasn’t arguing. I was glad to see the back of him as he’d looked dangerous whenever he got the ball. We were letting Spurs come on to us and they were pressurizing but we were still showing plenty of fight and this was exemplified after 68 minutes when Noz never stopped battling to win the ball down the right only for Reid to be ruled offside from his pass. Cisse had come on for Richardson a few minutes earlier and the latter had received a great ovation from our end. Murphy hadn’t impressed me much at all and it was from his mistake that Spurs built the attack that led to Jenas equalising after 72 minutes. I think Murphy has scored some crucial goals, for coming on as sub and smashing one in during the dying moments. Gordon kept us in the game with a couple of great saves but as if it was written in the script, after 82 minutes Cisse met a cross from the left and headed us into the lead though I’m sure he hadn’t touched the ball since he came on. Still, that’s what a striker’s paid to do and he repaid us all very handsomely as after that we never looked like conceding another goal, let alone losing.

Another spontaneous Cisse chant erupted based on ‘When Johnny Comes Marching Home Again’ and it was still doing the rounds after the full-time whistle finally went. The last time I saw us beat Spurs in London was in 1982 and the fact that we managed to do so today shows that we really have upped a few gears and that the promise shown last week was no flash in the pan.

It was all smiles as the adrenalin powered us down the High Road in the direction of a bar and a few celebratory beers. The Ship wouldn’t let us in but the good people at the Beehive in Stoneleigh Road were very accommodating and I exchanged smiles and handshakes with a couple of fellow supporters, one of whom said, “Try to stop smiling if you can.” At one point I directed one of our fans to Stansted. I told Mel that she’d have to come to every London game now as she was clearly a lucky mascot and she said she’d come to Fulham in October. See you at Nottingham.

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