Europe's largest playing field.
1,500 players every Sunday.
I remember the smell of sweat, liniment and the heat that came off my dad and his mates. All this boredom took place crazily in mid winter, when a fall meant a bloodied gash on your legs from a frozen solid ground. I recall twenty two men creating a fog of steam on the pitch from breath and body. I was immersed in football, a grounding in the game that would make other kids jealous. But, I fucking hated football. I didn't get it then and I am in as much in the dark about it now.
Someone recently asked me in the Cab what did I think of Spurs, and to deliberately stupefy this eager and drunk football fan I told him I had no interest in horse ephemera, he paid me, called me a cunt and got out. All that happened when I deliberately antagonized this fan of overpaid and over here football playing egotists, was to enforce my belief further that punditry and fandom for football, is at best a distraction from sorry little dramas in their lives.
I miss my Dad, he hadn't been to Spurs in many years. he couldn't afford it and to my eternal shame I couldn't afford the time. I should have took him. I should have stood with him in the same spot we occupied faithfully come rain or shine all those years ago. I never did.
Recently, sadly, my brothers, sister and family members were standing outside the City of London crematorium by the hearse carrying my father. It was resplendently covered with flowery footballs, personal tributes and the Spurs insignia, all faithfully crafted and recreated in carnations. One of those inexplicable moments happened that can never be explained in life. Spurs manager Harry Redknapp walked on by to visit a loved one, he looked over, clapped and saluted my Dad and then continued on his walk to his own private destination of remembrance.
I missed this final poignant little tribute to my Dad, a footballer and lifetime fan of it. I was looking away staring at the wind making shapes in the green grass, reminiscing...
I hate football...
Published in Sabotagetimes.com