Only
half time.
The
day started off positively.
Got to
the stadium and all the fans seemed to be in full throttle. Wherever one
looked, there were smiles on peoples faces. People huddled in groups, and you
could hear them discussing the possibilities for the night ahead. All in favour
of our/ their team.
Maybe
I should have read the omens. I went through the turnstiles, and my ticket was
rejected. And mine wasn’t the only one. As we tried to put our ticket through
again and again angry and impatient voices behind us mumbled at their
frustration of being kept waiting. Eventually, a steward, out of frustration,
let us through.
Once
up and the atmosphere was even more intense. All jabbering way, all cheerful on
that warm night.
Before
the kickoff people were consuming a huge amount of alcohol and food. Finally,
it was time to go to our seats.
On
arriving, we all noticed the flags on our chairs. Looking around, those that
got their first were already waving their free souvenirs’ vigorously. You could
see the delight on children's faces, as well as their parents. Then the Spurs
anthem came over the tannoy, and the flags started shaking even more robustly, if
that was possible. Everybody was in full voice. Then the singing began, and another
great wave and feeling went through the stadium.
The
build-up was quite magnificent to behold, then the players came out to even more
rousing cheers. The momentum started to dissipate. But once the referee blew
his whistle, that energy took off again. It was all reminiscent to our very
first game at our new stadium.
Fifteen
minutes in and catastrophe hit us (or maybe that is an exaggeration). But
peoples faces dropped. Apprehension replaced that good feeling we had. All
because Van de Beek scored.
To be
honest, we struggled to overcome the absence of forwards Harry Kane and Son -
injured and suspended respectively - and our job was made even harder by the
loss of defender Jan Vertonghen after he suffered a facial injury in the first
half. Vertonghen was clearly severely shaken up after an aerial collision
involving team-mate Toby Alderweireld and Ajax goalkeeper Andre Onana. He
eventually had to be supported by two members of the Spurs staff as he went
off.
Because
of the injury to Vertonghen, an extra 5 minutes were added on. The whistle was
finally blown, and we made our way to the food/ drinks area. Got our fulfilment
and then back to our seats.
Once
the break was over, we tried to force the pace, with plenty of possession, but
it was Ajax who came close to adding a second when David Neres struck the
inside of the post with Lloris beaten. Ajax held on to their lead in relative
comfort, and it will need an inform Spurs team to come back to prevent the
Dutch side facing either Barcelona or Liverpool in the final on 1 June. We went back to the lounge feeling dejected…
but after a few drinks, we started to feel positive again. After all, Tuesday
was only the first half. Next week – the second half - and a goal by us or two
would put us in a driving position, and if that happened then maybe we could
start dreaming – again – that impossible or possible outcome (think positive!).
The
witching hour approached and Beverley and myself made our way to the station,
and then separated (I went Northbound, she went southbound).
Again
the M25 was blocked (roadworks), and I had to double back. More road works on
the M25 (when I finally did reach it) and then onto another set of road works,
this time on the M4. My junction was closed so I had to go further along.
Finally getting home at 2am (where it should have been 1am). It turned out to
be a bloody long day (in more ways that one).
See
you at the Bournemouth game.
By
Glenn Renshaw
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