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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/
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