Like most Spurs fans, I really didn’t expect us to get to the Champions League Final: we haven’t bought any new players in over a year, and we’ve come so close to being knocked out of the tournament so many times, I’m fairly philosophical about the match itself.
So, whilst of course I want my team to win, but if they don’t, then it won’t be the end of the world. We’ve exceeded expectations just by being there.
That said, whatever the result, tonight is going to be emotional for me, and not just because of the football.
As I mentioned after both extraordinary semi-finals were over, Hel and I agreed to meet up to watch the final. I’m posting this just as I’m about to head off to Brixton, where we have a table booked in a favourite bar who are showing the match.
Last night we exchanged messages, each of us warning the other that we’re likely to have a bit of a blub at some point, no matter what happens in the game.
Because had he still been with us, then as a life-long red, Hel’s brother and my best friend, Llŷr would undoubtedly have been with us tonight.