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We were up at 3:30am for the now familiar early morning flight from East Midlands to Dublin, with Jenny flying in from Manchester, and meeting up in the airport for breakfast before catching the Flybus to Tallaght.

We were here for the last game of this incredible season, in which Rovers had created history by becoming the first Irish club to qualify for the group stages of a European competition. To have reached that milestone while successfully retaining the League of Ireland title, winning the All-Ireland Setanta Cup and clocking up ten more League points than last year in the process, has been a tremendous achievement. These part-time players reported for pre-season training on 15th January and here we are, eleven months later, in game No. 60, even though the League season finished in October.

Rovers’ supporters have become accustomed to the Club, which they own, being largely ignored within Ireland, where ‘soccer’ is the poor relation to, not only traditional Irish sports, but also the insatiable appetite Irish people have for the English Premier League, the latter albatross being all too familiar to the diminishing number of Latics supporters. The historic journey of Rovers through the Champions League qualifiers and the Group stage of the Europa League, with the associated TV coverage of 27 games, had made the club difficult to ignore at home, and brought it to the attention of an audience of millions, as far away as Australia, China, India and Canada. I only have to recollect the singing of "Shamrock Rovers, Champions" and “Shamrock Rovers will never die” reverberating around White Hart Lane (and dominating the TV sound-track) on that incredible night in September, to get the hairs standing up on the back of my neck. It was like being with buskers from outside the London Palladium earning the right to take part in the Royal Command Performance.

The real, and sometimes perceived, odds stacked against the supporters travelling thousands of miles through Europe, have meant that more than a strong stomach has been needed for this season’s roller-coaster ride. When playing Partizan Belgrade, the unwillingness of the Serbian authorities to allow any behaviour of the locals to jeopardise the country’s application for entry into the European Union, had shown itself in extreme security protection of the Rovers’ supporters.  They were assigned minders when drinking in bars and, inside the stadium, after confiscating their cigarette-lighters, they were assigned stewards not only to light their cigarettes, but also to accompany anyone them to the toilet.

The trip to Greece to play PAOK had coincided with a 48 hour general strike against the Government’s austerity measures, with no public transport available and the smell of uncollected rubbish tarnishing the streets. The change of heart by the Greek air traffic controllers at short-notice to reduce the length of their strike to 12 hours had resulted in withdrawn air flights being reinstated, but only after some of the confused Hooperati had made alternative travel arrangements at considerable additional expense. Striking passport controllers at the border resulted in some of the travelling supporters failing to get to Thessaloniki in time for the match. Not even a wooden horse would have succeeded, and although instinct may have made them wary of Greeks bearing gifts, extensive assistance provided by a PAOK supporter, through the SRFC Ultras’ Internet message board, had proved to be indispensable. It was testament to his efforts that the trip had been so enjoyable for the couple of hundred travellers, and their gratitude had been posted in a format which is today’s equivalent of a letter to the Thessalonians.  There was a certain irony for the PAOK supporters travelling to London recently for their match against Spurs, only to find the city in the grip of striking public service workers.

To be a supporter of Rovers in Europe is akin to taking on an ambassadorial role, while carrying out voluntary missionary work, in the extremes of intense heat in Belgrade and sub-zero temperature in the Republic of Tatarstan. Fans of other clubs eager to find out more about SRFC, are amazed to learn that the squad was assembled for only €600,000 and the fan-owned Club’s budget is in the region of €2.5 million, when most clubs at this level would be paying similar amounts to a single player. By comparison the annual budget of Spurs is €150m, Rubin Kazan’s is €75m and even that of the Greek champions PAOK is €17m (the amount paid by Rubin Kazan for one player). One of the Hooperati said what Rovers have achieved in Europe this season is like a bloke on a motorbike getting to race in F1.

Although the team had not had success on the pitch in this European Group, the club’s supporters had gained many friends, not least among the bar-owning fraternity.

This was to be Rovers’ twelfth game in European competition this season. Instead of singing “Oh when the Blues…”, when supporting Latics, today we were expecting to hear “Oh when the Spurs go marching in”. Some of the 400 Spurs’ fans, each with at least 877 loyalty points, marched in on our plane and on Jenny’s, while others marched in by boat via Holyhead.

This was to be the first competitive match against an English club in Ireland for 27 years. In the weeks building up to this match, the Spurs fans had been busy researching about Rovers. In these days of ‘fake sheiks’ and football money pouring in from Abu Dhabi,

could the Tallaght Pyramid have confused Chas and Dave about the ownership of Rovers?

Having heard of Hollywood legend Maureen O’Hara being a Rovers fan, whose father was once part-owner of Shamrock Rovers,

Spurs fans had come up with a star of their own. Perhaps not what one would think of as a model Spurs fan, with two divorces by the age of 26, a teenage mother for a sister, a soccer mum for a parent and ancestors from Tottenham, she was none other than Britney Spears.

During the morning, we paid a visit to the Stadium Trophy Room and Megastore, which had a steady stream of customers and telephone calls seeking tickets for this sold-out match. We got a friendly wave from the Chairman, who was busy in the hands-on preparations needed to meet UEFA’s many requirements.

After lunch in the Maldron Hotel, amongst people wearing UEFA accreditation IDs, we spent the afternoon in the Hotel’s bar with friends old and new, all of whom were pleased that Latics were giving us something to shout about at last. There was much interest in the possibility of some coming over to England to watch our lads later in the season, with the Paddy’s Day match against Rochdale high on the agenda.

The Hotel management were so keen to provide enough elbow room in the bar for the drinkers, that the Christmas trees were wheeled away temporarily.

Other friends were met inside the stadium as we took up our places in the East Stand for the 6:00pm kick-off determined by television. Probably to the cost of the League of Ireland, Spurs also have official supporters clubs located in Carlow, Cork, Dublin, Dundalk, Sligo and Waterford. Their fans without enough loyalty points for a ticket in the away section, found themselves seated amongst the Hooperati in the temporary South Stand, which caught the icy blast off the mountains.

The task facing Spurs tonight was to hope that Rubin Kazan would lose to PAOK Salonika, and at the same time overturn the five-goal deficit in goal difference between them. This was not the line-up that would play in the Premier League, but it contained seven internationals, four of whom played in the last World Cup. They were to face Rovers’ out-of-season part-time players, who were no longer match-fit.

The stadium’s new moving electronic advertising along the length of the pitch was another indication that Rovers are now competing with Europe’s elite.

In the first twenty minutes, there was nothing much between the teams, but Tottenham proved to be razor-sharp in the final third. However, they did enjoy some luck at the other end of the pitch, as both Livermore and Cudicini escaped red cards for bringing down players when they were through on goal, even with six match officials looking on.

The Rovers 0 Spurs 4 score-line, with goals from Pienaar (deflected off a Hoop) and Townsend, together with last minute goals by Defoe in the first half and Kane in the second half, exaggerated the obvious miss-match in playing ability. Rovers had some very good phases of play, attacking with neat moves, as they tried to give departing manager Michael O’Neill a good send-off. If only the match officials’ decisions had resulted in Spurs being reduced to nine players, who knows what the result would have been?

The result proved to be academic for Spurs, because the draw in Greece between the other two clubs in the Group, meant that their fate was out of their own hands.

Although there were no points to show for all Rovers’ efforts put into the Europa League Group Stage, the banking of more than over €1m was the icing on the cake.

Who would have thought that, when playing F.C. Flora Tallinn in Tallaght back in June, the European adventure would be continuing six months later? The growing experience gained by the players has shown itself in very competent performances, in which they have looked to be at home playing at that level. The lesson etched firmly on the memory, just as it was when Latics were in the Premier League, is that when you make a mistake at this level, you get punished.

The early kick-off meant that we were back in the Maldron Hotel by 8:00pm, with a long session ahead. The disco was underway and a good time was had by all, including John Sheridan’s cousin, who led the dancing.

With the disco finished, we made our own entertainment with a singsong led by Big Dec. Eventually the bar would serve us no more and we got to bed at 1:30am, after another 22 hour day.

A fine dusting of snow greeted us when we awoke but, thankfully, it did not disrupt our journey home, and the forecasted weather was not expected to stop us getting to Charlton the next day.

So, as we reach the pantomime season, Rovers, in the guise of ‘Prince Charming’, have made a dignified exit from the Europa stage, through the ‘Ireland’s Got Talent’ door.

At the same time Spurs, in the guise of ‘Goals Aloud’, have exited through the revolving door marked ‘Failed to live up to expectation and budget yet again’,

and are to be replaced by Manchester’s ‘Ugly Sisters’.

One Hoop came up with a brilliant description of Rovers’ competitiveness in the elite football community, in the following terms: “We're now dancing with the prettiest girls in Europe, while our local rivals still haven't got past the bouncers”.

This has been a unique journey, and the Hooperati have been determined to absorb every second. As co-opted members, this season’s amazing experiences, on and off the field, have left us with huge grins on our faces, and glowing with great pride and satisfaction. We can’t wait to be on the guest list for dancing with more of the prettiest European girls next season, as we keep on Hooping.

On the way to the airport we passed the depot of Woodies DIY, Rovers’ long-time sponsors, who have stuck with the club through its darkest hours. Later on the journey, the Flybus was ‘escorted’ by a Seat car sporting Rovers’ colours as the new big-time sponsor, another pointer to the progress the club has made.

Meanwhile, as Rovers’ memorable season ends, Latics’ season is just starting to look as though it could be memorable. We’ve got a trip to Anfield to look forward to, and I wonder if King Kenny is still blushing from his Ryanair flight, on which the Hooperati were chanting to him “Champions League, you’re havin’ a laugh”.

Touching wood, and keeping fingers and toes crossed, there may also be at least one possible trip to Wembley to look forward to in 2012, before Europe beckons with Rovers once more.

Isn’t following small club football great?

Oldham’s 3-1 victory over Crewe on Tuesday night will have gone unnoticed by many, not because of the result or the performance, but because it came in the Johnstone’s Paint Trophy.

It’s probably understandable that even many who shell out their money to watch Latics every week treat this competition with distain. Before our win at Scunthorpe in the previous round it had been four seasons since we’d won a single game in it. To make matters worse, all those defeats had come at Boundary Park. In fact, in the last ten years there have only been four campaigns where we recorded victories in the various guises of the Football League Trophy (Paint Pot Trophy, Mickey Mouse Cup, call it what you will).

This season, however, it is clear that Paul Dickov is treating the tournament seriously and I think it is about time the fans did too. I’ve not seen every game this year but I have seen enough to suggest that we are likely to finish mid-table. Saturday gives us a good chance to progress in the FA Cup and it’d be great to think that we could get to the third round and the chance of that money-spinning tie. We’re hardly likely to win it though.

The JPT provides us with a real chance of glory. There isn’t a side left in the competition that we are not capable of beating. Maybe I’m on my own here, but I support this club in the vain hope that one day I might see us win something. Perhaps the JPT wouldn’t be my first choice but I’m more excited about that than I am about whether we finish 10^th or 14^th in the league.

The lift that a trip to Wembley would give the club and indeed the town cannot be underestimated. I’m not saying that we’d suddenly find thirty thousand fans but I’d be surprised if we didn’t take fifteen to twenty thousand. The money that could be made from the merchandise alone must make Simon and Alan giddy in anticipation.

If we could go one step further and win the thing it’d lead to a real feel good factor. People who you’ve never seen at BP, or certainly not in the last twenty years, would suddenly want to be associated with the club “I was there at Wembley you know when they won the trophy”. While I doubt that crowds to league games would triple over night, there would be a marked increase especially if the confidence generated by success led to improved performances.

The money generated might even go some way towards helping with the redevelopment of Boundary Park (at the very least the sponsors might chuck in some paint).

This is Latics we are talking about though so there is still some way to go before we can really start dreaming. I’ve only ever seen a Latics’ captain lift a trophy aloft once in my lifetime (Isle of Man Steam Packet Festival and the Rose Bowl excepted). How fantastic it would be to see that open top bus once again whatever the competition.

My trip to Carlisle on Saturday was a real eye opener. Nothing to do with seeing us toss away a three goal lead, but for the journey itself. I’d made a last minute decision to go and didn’t fancy driving up there myself so I grabbed the last seat on the coach from the Junction Inn.

Sitting at the back of the coach I was surrounded by seventeen and eighteen year olds and I found it fascinating. I guess I don’t tend to mix too much with that age group but listening to them gave me a whole new perspective on modern day football. Ignoring the fact that I only understood half of what they said (I know now that everything is sick), I was genuinely surprised with their take on things.

I’ve contemplated in the past about the fact that there is a generation of Latics fans growing up who have no memory of the ‘glory years’ but I’d not really thought of quite what that meant. If you consider that most kids probably start going to football when they are about ten years old, that means that very few under the age of 27 will have any memory of us playing in the Premier League. Even worse, those under the age of 24 will be able to remember us playing in any division other than League One. That’s scary. We’re not just talking about kids here.

The lads on the back of the coach will probably have seen the last seven or eight seasons. In that time, we’ve finished sixth on one occasion (2006/7) and in 2004/5 we just avoided the drop finishing 19^th. Other than that and a cup win at Goodison, pretty much nothing has happened. Many of our older fans spend a lot of time complaining that we are not attracting enough young fans. Perhaps we should be marvelling at the fact that we are attracting as many as we are.

The attitude of the lads to other clubs also came as a bit of a surprise. I’m quite open about the fact that I have a dislike for a number of clubs but my real hatred is split between the reds down the road and W*nky Wanderers ( and not 50/50). The journey up to Cumbria coincided with United playing Everton. I automatically assumed that pretty much everyone on the bus would want an Everton win. To my surprise, there was great excitement behind me when Hernandez scored what turned out to be the winner. Again this was a sign of the changing face of football. It wasn’t that they wanted an away win. They’d got Hernandez in their fantasy team and some of them had got a United win in their accumulator. It’s a strange concept to me but perhaps it makes sense. Why would they have any strong feelings towards a team that they have never seen us play?

It should be stressed that these are not random lads I’m talking about, these are kids who are spending a large proportion of their disposable income following OAFC. In short they are the future of the club. Perhaps these are the people the club should be talking to about how to increase our fanbase and perhaps those of us old enough to remember Roger Palmer/Rodger Wilde/George Hardwick (delete as appropriate) should remember how lucky we are and show them a little more respect.

“I used to  

“I used to support my local football team but I’ve decided that they will never win anything so I’ve given up on them. Even when they are on TV, I can’t be bothered watching. The players are all overpaid these days and I get the impression that their hearts aren’t in it any more. I’d rather watch Premiership football on TV.”

I find it amazing how many people would criticise the person making the above comment yet it sums up exactly how they feel about England.

I’ve always understood the fact that a lot of Premier League fans who only watch football on TV might not have any interest in how England get on. They support their club because of the fact that they are successful rather than because of any loyalty stemming from it being their local team. Why logically would they act any differently when it comes to international football?

When I hear it coming from fans who follow their local club through thick and thin, however, I can’t get my head around it. I don’t support Oldham because they are the best team in the world, I support them because I am from Oldham and, to me, football is a tribal sport where you follow the team that represents where you are from. Exactly the same logic applies to supporting England.

I see international football as the purest form of the game. It is the only time there is a truly level playing field. You have to make do with what you’ve got. You do not have the opportunity to go and sign up a new centre back just because you don’t like the look of those available. You can’t go from mediocrity to world beaters because a Sheik decides he’d like you as his new play thing.

I accept the argument that the players are overpaid but I would extend that to all football in this country. Premier League players are all paid obscene amounts and even lower down the leagues, the players are taking home much more than they are worth. Somehow, however, when a player pulls on an England shirt, his salary becomes a much bigger issue than it is when he’s wearing his Liverpool/United/City shirt.

The accusation is also thrown at the players that they don’t want to play for England and so don’t perform. I have said it myself on the back of yet another defeat but in reality if they didn’t want to play, why would they? It might be partly because they get lucrative sponsorship deals on the back of it but if that’s all, they would still be putting 100% in to maximise this income stream. Nobody is going to pay a player millions of pounds in sponsorship for playing badly.

The other argument is that because of club rivalries, fans don’t like most of the England players and can’t bring themselves to cheer them on. When they play for England, they are England players. I hate Man United as much as anyone and I cannot stand a number of their players. When they pull on the three lions they are representing England though and I will give them my all for 90 minutes. You might hate a player because of who he plays for but it doesn’t necessarily mean you wouldn’t want your club to sign him. It’s the same thing. Most Chelsea fans would be happy if they signed Ronaldo whatever they thought of him when he was at Old Trafford.

The reason that England struggle is because the players are not quite good enough. It’s sad but it’s true. That is not, however, a reason not to support them. Oldham are not quite good enough to get out of this damn division we’ve found ourselves in for the last 15 years. That doesn’t mean I give up on them. It means that I keep giving them my support in the knowledge that when we do finally manage it, it will be so much sweeter for me than it will be for those who only come back as we top the table.

England might not be the powerhouse of world football that they once were but with a bit (lot) of luck they are still capable of winning a tournament. The best team does not always win it. Sometimes it’s about playing as well as you possibly can and hoping that you opponent has an off day. If that day comes, suddenly everyone will be an England fan again and the streets will be full of flags and banners. Football’s not about being a glory hunter though. It’s about being a supporter.

Barely a week goes by without an expression of outrage at the latest abuse chanted at a football match. The latest outburst at the North London derby has resulted in a joint statement from Tottenham and Arsenal condemning the culprits who apparently wished that Emmanuel Adebayor had been killed when the Togo team bus was attacked at the African Cup of Nations.

The question of what is acceptable and what isn’t is an exceptionally difficult one for me. There will be many out there who will claim that any kind of abuse is unacceptable and that is a perfectly reasonable argument, but I suspect that those saying it aren’t football fans.

In an idealistic world, what happens in a football ground should mirror what happens outside the ground. It would be totally unacceptable to shout abuse at someone as you pass them in the street so by this argument, the same would apply inside the stadium. The reality, however is that football is often somewhere you go to escape from the real world and the mentality is different once you pass through the turnstile. Football also stirs up a passion that is seldom felt about other pastimes.

When England played in Bulgaria last month the FA complained about the racist chanting that was directed at a number of our black players by sections of the home support. The British press, however, seemed more concerned about anti-Gypsy chants from the England contingent in the ground. My view was that the two incidents were poles apart. When the locals made monkey noises at Ashley Young, they were inferring that because he was black he was not human. That is a disgraceful inference that should not be tolerated. When the England fans retorted with “Where’s your Caravan?” it was a chant based upon stereotyping. This, to me, is acceptable. The fact is, however, that Gypsies are a race and so there is an argument that this was racial abuse.

My broad view has always been that abuse based upon a stereotype is acceptable. You will not see many games between a Lancashire and Yorkshire side where those from the right side of the Pennines will not sing about what the opposing fans do to sheep. I doubt many of them actually think that there are a large number of people in the ground who have partaken in such behaviour but the chant seems like fair game. Likewise, a game against Liverpool, Everton or Tranmere will lead to the assumption that nobody has a job and that your wallet is probably not safe.

What happens, though, when the stereotyping has a racial element? I will return to the case of Mr Adebayor. A chant aimed at him last season was described as “The most racist chant ever heard at a football match”. The chant referred to his parents and used a racial stereotype that people in Africa wash elephants. In many ways, this was no different to the kind of chants I’ve spoken about above but that racist element completely changed the perception of it.

The big story last year was of sectarian chanting at Old Firm games in Scotland. The hatred felt for each other by Rangers and Celtic fans is as strong as any I have witnessed and the venom can be felt in the songs that are sung. Scotland has even brought laws in the specifically outlaw any sectarian chanting. I think this is a particularly complex issue as the clubs are so deeply ingrained in their religious histories. If you were to successfully remove the religious aspects of the clubs, you would remove the soul of the clubs. My view is that while singing songs that abuse the opposition fans for being part of one religion should not be accepted, that doesn’t mean that all religious aspects of chants are necessarily a problem. The problem is that because of the strength of feeling involved, the likelihood of trouble flaring inside our outside the ground is high. It is that volatility of the atmosphere which leads me to the conclusion that this needs to be treated differently to chanting in England and that it is probably right that specific legislation exists.

The chanting at White Hart Lane on Sunday is similar to the other high profile case in recent weeks. The Leeds v Man Utd game in the League Cup was overshadowed by chanting from both sides. While the Leeds fans sang about Munich, the United fans were busy chanting “Istanbul”. All the logic in the world says that both these are despicable. I cannot put up any kind of argument as to why this is not wrong… but I also cannot put my hand on my heart and say that I have not joined in with similar chants.

The truth is that when you are at a game against a team you cannot stand, you will sing whatever will get to them most. This doesn’t mean that you want it to boil over and I cannot condemn enough those who were fighting outside Elland Road, I do, however, understand the chanting without condoning it. It’s probably a sad state of affairs but when you go to a game like that, you want your rivals to have as miserable time as possible.

It seems amiss as a Latics fan not to mention Ian Thomas Moore in this piece. There are many examples of individual players being subjected to torrents of abuse and ITM is probably the best example from an Oldham viewpoint. The fact that the abuse he receives is aimed at his parents is probably the reason that it disgusts some people. It is the prime example of a type of abuse that divides opinion. It is in no way racist/homophobic/picking on a disability etc. What it does do, though, is affect him. Sometimes it can lead to him playing out of his skin, sometimes he went into his shell, but he always reacted to it.

My overriding view is that football grounds cannot be allowed to become too sterilised. After a long week in the office, I want to be able to go and have a rant. Sometimes the ref will be the subject of my wrath, sometimes it will be plastic MK Dons fans and sometimes it will be Ian Moore (OK, not now as he’s retired). There are laws in place to prevent racist and sectarian chanting and I think that’s only right, beyond that though, football fans really need to police themselves. When you chant things that are ‘vile and inappropriate’ you make yourself and your club look bad. That should be encouragement enough to keep things within the realms of decency.

Here we were again, it’s a Thursday and we’re Hooping in another capital city, but this time just a couple of hours down the M1. The car was parked at Stanmore, which brought back sad memories of when we followed the same route for Ernie’s funeral. 

The long Tube ride, past Wembley Stadium, on the Jubilee Line took us to Green Park, and then on the Piccadilly Line until we arrived in Leicester Square for the craic in Covent Garden.

On the motorway, the radio had played ELO’s ‘Last Train To London’ and, having been in London watching Latics at Leyton Orient only twelve days ago, this Virgin trains advert seemed appropriate.

After lunch and refreshment in The Porterhouse, Covent Garden, it was time to meet up with Big Dec to collect our match tickets brought over from Tallaght. With the Hooperati invading London from Ireland and all over the globe, over 2,300 tickets had been sold by SRFC to travelling Rovers supporters, who were to be joined by at least 1,000 supporters who had bought their tickets direct from THFC, for a unique special ‘neutral’ area of the stadium set aside for Hoops living outside Ireland. 

The weather was kind to those wearing only Rovers’ colours, as the temperature hit 27°C (81°F)….phew what a scorcher!

Some Hoopers were arriving at Stansted as late as 6:00pm for the 8:05pm kick-off, and many didn’t need accommodation as they were planning a long night of Hooping, before leaving on the 4:10am Stansted Express for the 6:30am flight to Dublin,  in time for work.

A text established that Big Dec was in a Wetherspoon’s pub in Tower Hill. So a leisurely walk through Victoria Embankment Gardens, packed with sun-worshippers on their lunch-break, led us to Embankment Tube station. Margaret had the good idea of checking whether Big Dec had our tickets with him and, just as the train was arriving, the text response to her question was that they were still in his hotel in Finsbury Park. So that leg of the journey was aborted.

We went back to Covent Garden and round the Piazza, before ending up at one of the other suggested meeting points, O’Neill’s pub in Great Queen Street, reportedly run by a life-long Rovers’ fan. Walking through the streets of London, we were approached regularly by passers-by, wishing us luck for the game, and not all of them were Arsenal fans.  We went inside the pub to seek refuge from the baking sun and we were joined by the ever-present Isle of Man ‘97ers Tom and Ruarie, with their relatives and friends.

Then it was off again to find Big Dec and those precious tickets. Walking to Holborn, we met Jason, looking for a German Hoop he had arranged to meet. He told us that his article in last Sunday’s match programme had referred to our family’s Hooping activities. A Tube ride took us to Finsbury Park and the Blackstock pub, which was full of Hoopers.  Acquaintances were renewed and new people were introduced to us. We were shown Jason’s article in the programme, which was very flattering. At this point I must thank everyone who, throughout the day, said how much they enjoyed reading this stuff.  It’s good to know it’s appreciated. 

The Twelve Pins pub opposite the Blackstock also had its share of Hoopers, many of whom were soaking up the sun.

Having got the match tickets, we were off again on the Tube to King’s Cross and change for the Central Line to Liverpool Street Station, for the Wetherspoon’s Hamilton Hall pub. This was a must in the day’s schedule, as it was the opportunity for the Hooperati to rehearse the songs in readiness for the big game.

All day it had proved difficult for us to meet up with Preston-fan ‘Harry Hill’ and fellow-Latics fan Jenny, as our paths failed to cross in the hunt for the tickets. Anyway, here we met Jenny and I was able to introduce her to many people including Karen and her friend,

and SRFC Ultras’ ‘Hooperman’s No.1 Fan’ and his posse.

A lone Tottenham voice created little impression, but credit to him for trying. This was in the true tradition of the two Wigan fans in the Isle of Man way back when.

If only ‘Harry Hill’ would appear, we could have a Rovers/Oldham/Preston group photo and a rendition of that ’97 favouritie:
“Sit down if you hate Bohemians
Stand up if you hate ManU
Jump around if you hate Blackpool”

but he proved more elusive than a Bohs’ fan for the entire day.

We were joined, better late than never, due to work and transport problems, by Wrexham-fan Rob, whose girlfiend was even later in arriving, just before the kick-off.

At last it was time to get the train to White Hart Lane. Others chose to travel by Tube, taxi or bus from all over the capital.

The appearance of about three thousand green and white Hoopers on the streets of Tottenham must have been a pleasant change for the residents in this riot-torn part of North London.

The last time I went to White Hart Lane, Latics lost 5-0, the club’s biggest defeat in the Premier League.  Despite modernisation, the stadium still felt like a 'proper' football ground, with the fans close to the pitch.

A UEFA directive prohibited Rovers’ mascot Hooperman from making an appearance. Could it have been that he had committed the sin of being seen with an Arsenal player? Sadly UEFA eliminates fun from football if it does not come in the form of sponsorship money.

This was Rovers’ first European game in England since playing at Old Trafford in 1957. In the last 50 years Spurs’ home record in Europe read played 71 W54 D13 L4 for 191 against 49. So the stage was set for the Premier League’s 6th placed 'Goliath' Spurs (six internationals + highly-rated youngsters - UEFA ranking 28) v the Irish Premier League’s 2nd placed 'David' Rovers (semi-professionals/part-timers - UEFA ranking 324) – the kind of men-against-boys fixture that would be more at home in the early stages of the Rugby World Cup. The players on the Spurs’ bench were also valued in multi-millions. Someone had commented that some Spurs’ fans were treating this like a Third Round FA Cup-tie against a non-league bakers' XI. This was understandable as in terms of the two Clubs’ respective resources, with Rovers being like barrow-traders competing against Microsoft. But in football you never know……at this stage of proceedings my mind went back to Goodison Park when League One Latics beat Premier League Everton against all odds. But even that gap between the clubs was nothing compared to this gulf.

What mattered to the Hoops was that they were here, it was real and a great moment for all those who had stood by the club since 1987. This was a far cry from playing a home match in Cork because they couldn't find a ground in Dublin.

News reached us by text from the West of Ireland that T. Bourke’s pub in Westport, was offering a free pint to everyone if Rovers were to score. The Hooperati had no doubts about the team’s ability to score, but were more amazed that the Club’s fame had spread to County Mayo.

Both team managers were more concerned about their domestic league results than the Europa League. Tottenham’s Harry Redknapp had made it clear that the ‘Greedy’ League was his priority when he played a young team away to Greek club PAOK in the first of the Group games, and he chose to do the same against Rovers, with one eye three days later on the fixture against the rival club from North London. Even so, it was expected that those players coming in would want to force their way into the strongest team, and would be very hungry to play.

Rovers' Michael O'Neill played his best team, despite this being the first of five games in fifteen days, a schedule that would frighten the life out of many a top flight manager. The fixture congestion, necessitating games almost every three days until the end of the season, was the price to be paid for this European adventure.  With Rovers getting their best results away from home, fingers were crossed for what could be another great night for the Hoops.

A text was received reporting that the Channel 5 commentator had questioned whether the Hooperati would have the stamina to continue their outstanding vocal support throughout the evening. Oh ye of little faith!

Not wanting to blow my own trumpet, but I was chuffed that I was able to start the chant “Bring on the Champions!” as we awaited the entry of both teams.

Understandably, Rovers looked nervous during the first half and, surprisingly, Spurs looked sluggish. Even so Spurs created good chances one-on-one and had ‘Super keeper’ Richard Brush to thank for saving effort after effort. Not forgetting the crossbar and a goal-line clearance by midfielder Stephen O'Donnell, as the first half ended goalless. I imagined at this stage that those Spurs-supporting Cockney chaps Chas and Dave, accompanied by Gazza up in the stand wearing his pink jacket, were singing:
“When Tottenham Hotspur couldn't get one in
Gertcha!”

Then all Hooped dreams came true as Rovers took the lead. A free kick was awarded outside the Tottenham penalty area. Just as I pleaded for a stroke of luck from ‘Rick O’Shea’, the Gary McCabe free-kick produced a diving save from Cudicini, only for the ball to rebound to Pat Sullivan, who smashed it through a mass of players via a deflection from Stephen Rice into the net. Ecstasy for the Hoops…..Gertcha for Spurs!

The scenes of celebration were incredible, with grown men weeping with joy. Then the realisation that this was not going to be a backs-to-the-wall and hope the Hoops can hang on for 0-0 (and, incidentally, 70,000 euros in the kitty). Instead Rovers had had the audacity to take the lead. Hooptastic!

I had visions of all the TV3 viewers in the Westport area flocking from their homes down to T. Bourke’s pub for that free pint.

The atmosphere was electric, and I had not felt like this since Latics were in front at Goodison Park, and in extra-time in the F.A. Cup semi-final at Wembley, with Fergie turning purple, before you-know-who got the equaliser, and changed the course of modern football history.

Spurs had been given one hell of a fright. Harry Redknapp’s nervous twitch became more pronounced, as his CV looked like having a black mark when submitted to the FA after Capello has gone.

Now the sleeping giant had been poked in the eye by a nasty little boy with a green and white hooped stick and he was not best pleased. Rovers stayed in control for about ten minutes , but then the giant not only took his revenge once, but twice inside two minutes, as first Roman Pavlyuchenko (£14m) and then Jermain Defoe (£15m), struck with almost identical headers to restore order for the football hierarchy.

Oh, and what was the noise heard suddenly coming from the three sides of the stadium which had been silent? So far we had only heard that lone Spurs’ voice at the Hamilton Hall pub, but now it was the Spurs’ fans singing when they’re winning. The Hooperati were undaunted and continued their non-stop singing performance as they had done from before the kick-off, no doubt continuing to amaze the Channel 5 TV commentator.

There was only going to be one set of supporters with whom this steward wanted to be associated.

Three minutes later there was controversy in Hooperati eyes, as even the ‘neutral section’ of the stadium saw a foul committed on a Rovers player, but none of the six match officials saw it and, as the ball was swept downfield, it led to Spurs’ killer third goal, smashed home by Giovanni Dos Santos (£6m).

Effectively, the game was over. Harry’s twitch stopped as he sat down and relaxed, with that CV unblemished. This time next year……who knows?

http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6187/6154092164_b25933275d_z.jpg

For Rovers’ substitute Rohan Ricketts, it was something of a homecoming, as he had played for Spurs under Glenn Hoddle and Martin Jol, when he had become mates with Jermaine Defoe, Ledley King and Tom Huddlestone. The Spurs’ fans gave him a round of applause as he took to the field.

I was intrigued to see if, at the end of the game, the Spurs’ fans would acknowledge the Hooperati’s non-stop support of its team throughout the evening, but many Spurs’ fans had sneaked out before the final whistle and the remaining ones did not appear to be magnanimous.

The Hooperati were going nowhere and continued to sing as their heroes took the applause, and everyone was still singing when the players came back out for the

warm-down.

It would be all too easy for barstoolers to dismiss this as a gallant attempt to postpone the inevitable.  But it takes supporters of a small club to recognise the magic of an occasion like this. The players could not have done more. They gave everything for the cause against mountainous odds, and every Hooper there could not have been more proud of a performance, by both players and supporters alike, that will live long in the memory.

That ELO ‘Last Train To London’ tune came back in my mind, especially the line “I really want this night to last forever”. I know I was not alone in that wish.

We arrived back at Stanmore at midnight, still on a high from this amazing, adrenalin–packed experience.

In the words of The Clash:
“London calling, yes, I was there, too
An' you know what they said? Well, some of it was true!
London calling at the top of the dial
After all this, won't you give me a smile?
London calling.”

We can’t stop smiling!

For those for whom football is a religion, but not a matter of life and death, I offer the Gospel according to Chas and Dave:
“Mustn't grumble, don't worry 'bout nothin' my friend
Mustn't grumble, 'cause all's well that's well in the end
Mustn't grumble, grumble and you're on your own
Laugh and the world laughs with you
Cry and you'll cry all alone
Laugh and the world laughs with you
Mustn't grumble, mustn't grumble.”

We can’t stop laughing about the whole incredible experience and surely Rovers’ fame must now have spread even further than the West coast of Ireland.

The journey back up the M1 was prolonged by a partial closure and 50mph restrictions over a stretch of 30 miles but, musn’t grumble, we can have a lie-in.

Now, let’s see, where are those Vocalzones for my hoarse throat?

Keep on Hooping!
 
For many more pictures see:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/diego_sideburns/sets/72157627481824915/