As I stare in disbelief at my computer screen, cringing at Spurs’ current form, I can’t help but wonder, why? I’m not talking about Tottenham Hotspur as a club – there are enough articles, posts, and on-screen rants that dissect every single erroneous act this board and coaching staff have performed and why they flat out suck – I’m talking about me as a Spurs supporter.
Why do I support a squad that, in its current state, exhibits zero potential or promise?
For many of the suffering Spurs supporters, it was either a rite of passage through birth or a decision weighed heavily on geolocation. For others like myself who live over 5,000 miles from Tottenham Hotspur Stadium, something else about this club beckoned them to devote early mornings and mid-week Saturday lunch breaks to having their hearts torn apart by an organization that feels like it couldn’t care less if you ripped off the Lilywhite kit, set it on fire, and hopped over to be a dreaded Gooner. But that’s fandom.
For me, I blame a mixture of COVID, the 2022 World Cup, and FIFA 23.
As a Californian growing up in the 1990s, soccer wasn’t really an everyday activity. The San Francisco 49ers and Giants owned most of the real estate in my brain at that age, and rightfully so, as these teams taught me what it meant to be a true die-hard fan. My devotion to these teams and the San Jose Sharks has never wavered despite some ferociously unsettling eras.
Raised by a Brazilian mother with no interest in sports, my soccer education came through the American Youth Soccer Organization and every four years, the World Cup. However, Brazil’s epic win on US soil in 1994 would be the last time I would be completely engaged with the sport until decades later. As I grew older and realized that fewer and fewer of my friends paid attention to soccer, my interest in the sport slowly faded like Marty jamming on his guitar at the Enchantment Under the Sea dance.
It wasn’t until my wife signed my son up for youth soccer 28 years later that my interest in this incredible sport would ignite into an intoxicating passion that truly drives my family insane.
Watching my son learn the sport and remembering the enjoyable days I spent on the field instantly rekindled a deep-rooted love for the ins and outs of this game.
As my son’s first soccer season came to a close, I didn’t want this unexpected high to cease. The 2022 World Cup began shortly after, with more hype than I could remember. Hype that I couldn’t resist any more than weary sailors could the song of a siren.
While gambling on the World Cup drew me into most matches that didn’t involve the US, watching the game at this level after witnessing months of 7U ball made me want to learn more. I didn’t want this complex, multi-layer game to elude me again. I needed to find a way to stay in tune with the best that this sport has to offer. At the very least, so that my son can watch players to emulate as I would with Joe Montana or Will Clark when I was his age.
The World Cup came to an epic close, leaving me susceptible to the well-placed English Premier League ads littering the event. But learning about the leagues, cups, relegation, and all of the other foreign caveats that I was not accustomed to in American sport was a key necessity.
The gamer in me knew that the best way to learn the basic rules of any sport is through an Electronic Arts product. Playing FIFA wasn’t common for me, but it occurred here and there throughout my gaming career.
In early January, thanks to a COVID-19 outbreak in my household, I found myself quarantined in my guest bedroom with only my laptop, a television, and a PS5. The seeds of my current soccer obsession quickly festered.
In between converting my hockey betting algorithm into a soccer one and playing with random EPL teams in FIFA 23 to learn more players’ names, my isolated brain deduced that just gambling on soccer and playing video games of the sport can only take me so far.
I told myself I need to pick a team.
A team that I will be forced to love like I do the 49ers or the Giants. A team that will keep me entertained with the sport, whether I have money on them or not.
But what team to pick?
Since the EPL had already taken hold of me, and podcasts I listened to were already talking about this league, this had to be the competition of choice so I could regularly follow top-flight teams.
Reaching for my laptop, I fired up ESPN.com – because the wonders of FotMob & SofaScore were yet to be revealed – to view the standings. When I couldn’t find it, I clicked “Table” and found what I was looking for.
Looking at the Table, I knew I didn’t want to pick Arsenal because they were currently at the top, or Manchester City or Liverpool, since both had been considered winning teams recently. As a kid, being a front-runner – someone who only roots for winning teams – was considered weak sauce. These teams were too much in that tier for me.
Sitting 3rd, 4th, and 5th in the table were Newcastle United, Manchester United, and Tottenham Hotspur. Newcastle was out because I didn’t want to root for the team just because I’d enjoyed beers in my youth with the same name.
That left Man Utd and Tottenham Hotspur.
Like most Americans, I had heard of Manchester United and understood their hierarchy in English sports. I wasn’t opposed to rooting for them, but wasn’t completely sold either.
Then there was this Spurs team. As a kid, I actually loved the San Antonio Spurs. I had a huge door-sized poster of David “the Admiral” Robinson on my door. I was intrigued. I clicked on the team name and saw the team logo.
A chicken on a ball. Pretty cool. I thought. I can see myself wearing this logo on clothing. Plus, it looked a lot sharper than the Man Utd devil, and I already had a ton of red sportswear thanks to the Niners.
As I dug deeper into the team, my choice was pretty much made. For some reason, I always enjoyed rooting for teams in long trophy droughts, and they were on a pretty epic skid. Heung-Min Son and Harry Kane were two players who grabbed my attention as well. I knew of them and was definitely interested in learning more. They had the potential to do big things, but always seemed to just fall short.
I was sold. I exited my quarantine cave, declaring to my entire family as I marched down the stairs,
“We are Tottenham Hotspur fans from this point forward!!!”
My family didn’t quite understand the toil and excitement this team and this sport would bring to this house for the foreseeable future. Three years later, I find myself supporting a team teetering on the fence of relegation, staring at my computer screen, pondering why…
Recently, someone said to me, just pick a different team, one that stays up. But that’s not how this works.
As a “green” Spurs fan, I have not experienced the numerous trials and tribulations that many Spurs supporters undoubtedly endured over the decades. In fact, I hesitated to write this article, as who can respect the views of a fan who has suffered only a fraction of what they have? But, as I sit here stewing over these past three months of misery, I can’t imagine other fans feeling much worse.
This season has truly been a test of my resolve in supporting a team I have no ties to other than a solitude-induced decision to become an unrelenting fan. Unfortunately, the lack of leadership and organizational unity is a recipe for disaster.
Yet, I don’t plan on going anywhere.
Despite seeing this story before with the Oakland Athletics – another team that hates to spend money on players and relies on fan devotion to pay the bills – I can’t quit this team, no matter how much the board and all their financiers make it unbearable to support.
I will be here through a Championship League run, if necessary, and any lower they may drop. Although it has only been three years, I know my support is unwavering.
I am COYS for life!
Up the Spurs!
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