clock menu more-arrow no yes

Filed under:

The death and birth of Tottenham Hotspur: Chapter VIII

New, comments

There's one man left who really cares about Tottenham Hotspur Association Football Club. Everyone else is just here for the parties. the NFL and the BaseCricket.

Jordan Mansfield/Getty Images

Confused? Here's the archives.

May, 2022

"How do you feel about the draft?" Donald Trump asked Tottenham Hotspur Gridiron FC head coach Josh McDaniels.

"We've got some real football players in this year. I feel good about the two pass rushers, we've got to get more pressure next season."

This conversation took place from the top of the Allianz Arena while Harry Kane hit Sergi Samper with a crunching shoulder challenge that had the Barcelona man writhing in pain on the ground. Foul, no booking. The Spurs contingent booed the foul. The Barca supporters booed the lack of a yellow card.

"We're proud of you for making the playoffs but I'm really expecting the team to take the next step this year," said Trump. "I put everything into this team and they need to be in the Super Bowl. I won't accept anything less than the biggest, the best, the most popular team on the planet."

"Of course. I think we can do it this year. Manziel gets better every year and he's the first guy in the weight room in the morning right now."

"That's good to hear, I always liked that boy," replied Trump. Next to him were his partners Justin Bieber, Aubrey Graham and Zayn Malik, all looking at their phones, paying little attention to Wilfrid Kaptoum's through ball to Munir and Hugo Lloris' subsequent spectacular save.

Tottenham Hotspur's lineup for the 2022 Champions League final was everything a fan, manager or owner could have ever wanted. All 11 players were world class, a homegrown lad was the centerpiece of the side in a second striker's role, there were two Americans to sell shirts and pop ratings across the pond, and the lynchpin in the center was a 32-year-old hard man and dedicated captain.

football formations

While the supporters were enjoying the biggest game they'd ever seen their team play, their ownership team was up in a box, talking about the other arms of Sporting Tottenham Hotspur.

"Ayo Don," talk-sang Graham, "why you ain't let the BaseCricket guys come out? I wanted to chill with Mikey, man."

"They've got a game in two days and I didn't want them flying over here before that," Trump replied. "We can't have any distractions ahead of Monday. If we lose to the Liverpool Red Sox again, I'm never going to hear the end of it from John."

The only person in the Sporting Tottenham Hotspur box watching the game intently was director of football Peter Crouch, who was biting his nails every time Emerson Hyndman made a challenge. He was the modern day Paul Scholes in absolutely every way, down to the tackling.

He knocked over his drink in disgust when Izzy Brown turned Kevin Wimmer and found the bottom corner in the first half. He pumped his fists in the air when Jordan Morris beat the offside trap and flipped the ball over Marc-Andre ter Stegen. And, even though he didn't much care for the man, he gave Drake a giant bearhug when Kane nodded in a Jack Grealish cross in the 82nd minute before turning around to kiss his wife.

Crouch had built a Champions League-winning side at Tottenham Hotspur, despite Graham and Malik's constant meddling, and he was proud of what he'd done. None of Graham, Malik or Bieber even bothered to say "good job," and he didn't get much more than that from Trump. That night, as the organization's three entertainment superstar owners partied on the dance floor and Trump sat in the VIP, Crouch flew home so he could wake up in the same house as his children.

* * *

"Tottenham Hotspur, European Champions. What a world." Ledley King could hardly believe what he was watching.

"The Tottenham Hotspur that you and I played for aren't European Champions," replied Ryan Mason. "The footballing division of Sporting Tottenham Hotspur are European Champions. Tottenham Hotspur died seven years ago."

And in a way, Mason was right. This iteration of Spurs didn't care much for the community, shoved ads down your throat constantly, and attached their name and logo to everything they could.

Once American sports leagues saw the commercial success of London Spurs, as the NFL team was known in the States, they wanted in. With the Koch Brothers' blessing, Trump landed expansion franchises in the NBA and NHL, playing in a brand new 20,000 seat indoor arena adjacent to StubHub Stadium at White Hart Lane. And over the course of seven years, Sporting Tottenham Hotspur were able to work around the promises the club made about affordable housing during the early planning stages of the Northumberland Development Project. Low-income residents were relocated so Trump could build luxury high-rise condos in N17, which was quickly becoming one of the most expensive places to live in London.

"I can't believe they've taken our community from us," Mason said while shaking his head. "Remember when we thought we could build a neighborhood club, for the people? Their club is for the people of that neighborhood now. Soulless, commercial, only for the wealthy."

"We're still the club of the people," replied King. "Do they still walk to the games? No, they all have to take a train or two now. But we can't pick up the ground and put it somewhere else. We can't bulldoze the condominiums. We have to serve the people the best we can where we are, with what we have."

Mason changed the subject. "Do we have an idea of which academy kids they're going to release this summer?"

"No, but I can get Jenas to ask around."

"Honestly, it doesn't matter much," Mason said. "I don't care who they let go. I want to sign every last one of them."

Chapter 1Chapter 2Chapter 3Chapter 4Chapter 5Chapter 6Chapter 7 |