Yes. That’s right. Much like the tabloid press inform you of exclusives and cite ‘club insiders’ as the clandestine source of the information when in fact there is no actual evidence to support the alleged facts and therefore can not be proved or disproved either way, I’m going to do the exact same thing here because regardless of how much (or little) truth or exaggeration exists in the rumour, the fact that it’s made it to the internet means where there is smoke, there's fire. It's the journalistic code that our tabloid newspapers have built their cultured reputations on.
Someone, formally, in the employment of Tottenham Hotspur FC has revealed that a running gag between the Great Bald One and his minions is to refer to the White Hart Lane faithful as ‘plebs’. Now this may appear tame to what the rest of the country calls us, but the rest of the country matters as much to me as Danny Dyer finding himself in a norty situation. It's not my problem. What is my problem is when the people representing Tottenham display a lack of respect for the people who are, in essence 'Tottenham'. The fans. What is my problem is when our esteemed chairman (allegedly) has little respect for the common man who lives and breathes Spurs. I’m certain West Stand ticket holders are not singled out for this blatant social abuse. We all know how la de da they are affording £1000+ seats and leaving home games 10 minutes early to avoid the traffic.
Next time you – the common man – purchase a replica kit, or forks out £14 for a dvd of a score-draw or happen to buy a programme or dine on a pre-match bagel – take into consideration that those extra notes of sterling go towards the overly expensive wine served up in the board room and the Caviar consumed during their lunch hour. Because if it’s not enough that we spend hundreds of pounds on season tickets, loyally following the club home and away…we are considered a soft touch…by the ‘men at the top’. A cash cow supporting their lavish life-styles, unquestionable emptying our pockets for all things Lilywhite.
Now do you see why I do what I do? The handcuffed naked to the turnstile protest outside the West Stand entrance. The frozen shit pellets aimed at Levy’s car. Following Chirpy home and throwing eggs at his front door (and Chirpy, if you’re reading this – 1pm, Saturday, The Corner Pin, I’ll end you). The water balloon attack on the Lodge when we sold Robbie Keane. The water balloon attack on the Lodge when we re-signed Robbie Keane. I do what I do because nobody else will. We – not the suited money men – are the ones that make this club tick. Without us, without our commitment, the club would not exist.
Where is the respect? Where is it?
Well, it's probably marked up in the club shop at £99.99. No discount available.
So are we still plebs? Are we? Well I tell you what, you corporate loving SOB's (yes, you...board of directors and club staff) …you just watch what I’m going to do. I’m going to speak up for the common man in the Park Lane and the Shelf Side. I'll even speak up for the Paxton (someone has to).
Daniel - me and you are going to have this out once and for all. No letters. No correspondence of any kind. Just a good old fashion face to face. And when we do, I’m gonna shake my fist so vigorously in your direction from my seat in the Park Lane that you will squirrel with fear in your directors box. And you’ll know, you’ll know that the common man is a prince not a pleb. And you'll understand our worth as the true shareholders of this great club.
You will need almost 58,000 of us to fill up that brand spanking new stadium where no doubt we’ll have to fork out more money for the privilege of doing so.
Plebs? Nah, we're not plebs. More like mugs.