Why I love Tottenham Hotspur — thanks to my Mum

To say that I was born into football would be an understatement.

The day I was born, I was given a small teddy. The teddy, which still sits on my bedside table, has written on its chest “Tottenham are the best”. Some might say a bold statement. But it’s just an ethos my family strongly believe in.

My life has always been centred around Tottenham Hotspur. It wasn’t a matter of fitting Tottenham into our schedules. It was a matter of navigating our schedules around Tottenham. Birthday parties of friends missed because Spurs were playing…or having to stay at parties longer because my parents didn’t want to miss kick-off or rushing to pick me up during half-time…were perfectly normal occurrences. It wouldn’t be bold of me to assume that you, as the reader, think that this was imposed on my younger sister and I through my Dad (maybe even because of the lack of a son in the house, right?) but it wasn’t. It was my Mum.

For as long as I can remember, it’s been my Mum and Nan who have spent their time and money going to matches at White Hart Lane (now Tottenham Hotspur Stadium) every weekend, not missing a match for anything. My Dad would be the one at home, relegated to watching the game from the comfort of the sofa. The warm familiarity of Jeff Stelling’s voice from the next room saying that Tottenham had conceded another late goal and my Dad hitting the foot stall in rage and yelling expletives (some things just don’t change) was the soundtrack of my childhood. It was my Mum who initiated the first game we went to as a family of four (a pre-season friendly when I was about 6 years old in which my Mum bought me a scarf of Japanese loanee Toda on the hottest day of the year…but that is another story for another time). But my first true football experience came when I went to my first league game at around 15. Just my Mum and I.

Before this day, I’d always passed off football as something I was forced into. I was born in Enfield to Spurs supporters, who were descendants of Spurs supporters, and it was just another one of life’s inevitabilities. But my interest in football had started to peak in my mid-teens. I wanted to see what all of the fuss was about.

I remember how my Mum would always talk so passionately about football, even when I was too young to understand what she was going on about. She is still to this day the most knowledgable person I know when it comes to football. A Tottenham season ticket holder since the age of 10, my Mum knows every facet of the game. I never saw my Mum being passionate about football and going to games week in, week out as anything odd. It was completely normal. But when I told my friends I couldn’t meet them in town because my Mum was at the football and I had no way of getting there, they would look at me in disbelief. A woman? Going to the football? But mum’s don’t go to the football? But mine did.

My Mum and Nan’s seats at White Hart Lane were amazing. On the corner of the North Stand getting a complete view of the pitch, it was always something they liked to boast about (their seats at the Tottenham Hotspur Stadium are just as impressive). I remember the feeling of walking out to said seats — the feeling of utter euphoria, but also some apprehension. Prior to this, other than my pre-season friendly venture at a half empty stadium some years before, I had only ever observed football games on TV. I saw how rowdy they could get and how male dominated they were. And when I looked around the stadium that day, my eyes could only see men. I wondered extensively about how I would react to their screams of jubilation when we scored, or their profanity when we conceded or one of our players did a dangerous tackle in a dangerous area. But as the game got underway and I had the pleasure of seeing the 2011 dream team play (honestly how did we not win anything with that lineup?!), all of the thoughts and ill feelings I had of being simply a 15 year old girl sat in a concrete stadium surrounded by raucous men began to fade. It didn’t matter. I enjoyed it, and that’s all that mattered.

Football has never really been the most accommodating place for women. There’s an attitude that still lingers around football that women are not “intelligent enough” to understand the intricacies of the game, or that women couldn’t possibly like football for any other reason than they fancy one of the players or that liking football will attract the attention of men. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve gone on various Tottenham fan forums to see women’s opinions (my Mum’s included) be slated simply because of the gender of the person posting. In many cases, my Mum is right, they just don’t want to hear it. Even writing this post, there is a slight cloud of doubt looming over me that some out-of-touch man will comment something along the lines of ‘what do you know about football? You’re just a woman!”

Things have slowly started to improve, however. There has been an increase in female-led football publications in recent years and having women commentate on games is no longer an alien concept. There are many women around Tottenham (both officially and unofficially) who not only champion the female fans, but also champion the Spurs Women’s team and bring them to the forefront, further promoting a safe place for all types of fan.

Now, 10 years on from my first league game at The Lane, I claim my Tottenham fan status with all of my heart. And while Van der Vaart’s excellent playing ability is hard to ignore as a partial reason why I’m a die-hard Tottenham fan, my Mum is the real reason I now wear the Tottenham badge with pride. My Mum is the only person’s opinion I can truly trust and the only one I care about. I love nothing more than getting a post-match analysis from her via WhatsApp or a phone call now that I’ve migrated back to North London for work. She is the one who inadvertently told me at aged 15 that being a woman supporting a male dominated sport wasn’t anything to be ashamed of, or feared, or most importantly, that nobody should give a shit what gender you are. She is the reason I now find myself yelling at the TV or getting very involved when going to a live game (I remember once during the Wembley season and a half against West Ham, a lady sat in front of me commented that she “loved my passion”, which I will always take as a compliment).

My Mum is always the one pushing me to write more about football and let the passion I’m growing and the sport I’m constantly learning about and from fly. So, hi Mum, here is my first football themed post, and it’s all about you.