On a recent podcast, Flav, Bardi and T were discussing fan-hood and whether or not it could be measured by attendance at games. This is a common thread of thought throughout the footballing world. It’s often thought, that if you don’t attend games, it’s fair to label you a plastic, or at least, someone who refuses to shell out the cash and time to see the lads play.

The attending supporter is the backbone of any football club, and in a very literal sense, they are what pay the bills and sign the cheques that keep the club afloat. So what do we make of the fan that streams the games, or goes to the pub to watch on those rare and glorious days that Spurs games pop up on Sky Sports?

Well, I am one, and I’d like to give you an insight into my perspective and the perspectives of so many others like me.

It’s often thought, that if you don’t attend games, it’s fair to label you a plastic.

My dad was a Turkish immigrant to Tottenham back in the 50’s and he quickly adopted an English name to fit in. If you were a foreign kid growing up in Tottenham at that time you would invite nothing but trouble. He grew up with the double winning side of the 60’s in Tottenham. He was a young man when Villa and Ardiles came to establish the strong and infamous ‘Spurs Argentinian link.’

He moved away from Tottenham in the late 80’s to start a family and as he tells it, he looked upon White Hart Lane one last time as a Tottenham resident, before moving to the soul sucking s**t hole that is Milton Keynes, with a tear in his eye and a cheap fag in his mouth.

Years later, here I am, a product of that passion for our club. But I am miles away. And the last time I got to see Spurs was when we lost 2-1 to Newcastle in the 2014-15 season. The question here is: do I feel the same way about Spurs as a fan that attends every week?

The answer is: how the f**k would I know?

As Flav alluded to in the same podcast, my feelings as a fan are my own. They can’t be quantified or measured by some barometer of fan-hood or money spent. I’m a university student now and if I was going to shell out the money for one Spurs ticket these days I wouldn’t eat for two weeks. Maybe that does make me less of a fan. Maybe I should be going every week, forsaking food and booze and a social life for those glorious 90 minutes in which I get to watch my beloved Tottenham Hotspur play. But I can’t. Mostly because my mum would f***ing kill me.

What I do know is this: at a university filled with Man United, Liverpool and Arsenal fans, I am the only Spurs fan I know, and I am louder than any of them. I’ve been with them to watch their teams and they’ve been with me to watch mine and they shy away in embarrassment as I stand up in the pub and shout and tip my pint and get lairy with the fans of the opposition.

Maybe I should be going every week, forsaking food and booze and a social life for those glorious 90 minutes.

I am a Spurs fan. I cried as I child in 2008 when I watched Berbatov slot that penalty away in the final as relaxed as if he was playing a game of Connect 4. I was a moody, intolerable, sad, prick when we lost 5-1 to Newcastle on the final day of last season. And I’ll be an unbearable, intolerable knob to every Arsenal fan I see if we finish above them this season. And the real test of me as a Spurs fan: I said ‘if’ we finish above them, not ‘when.’

I’ve been through every heartbreak a Spurs fan my age could go through, I’ve spent most of my life supporting a bang average or mediocre team with pure love and I’ve earned my dues and stuck through enough to be considered a pure blooded yid. And if I have, then a lot of others like me have too.

Now, this article wasn’t simply to serve a purpose of making me feel great about myself, or giving myself a pat on the back. What it is supposed to do, is let those who do attend every game know, that I’m jealous. If I was near enough, or well-off enough, I would go to every game, home and away. But I’m not and maybe I never will be, but if you want to test my ability and the ability of those like me to love our team: don’t. Because we’d be right there with you cheering in the stands instead of making d**ks of ourselves in pubs, if only we could.

Well… at least most of us would… I think.