The Ange Postecoglou culture war

 The Ange Postecoglou culture war

Who would have thought a decade of tribally defending Harry Kane would inadvertently lead to me standing in a London pub, beer in hand, clad in unoriginal retro three lions’ clobber feeling sheepish as England scored a late winner.  And not just any late winner, Ollie Watkins had just made a sharp run in behind before leathering the Euro 2024 ball into the bottom corner to send my team into a final.

The pub erupts in a typical Three Lions fashion: a roar of emotion, beer pouring out of plastic cups (some authentic spillages, some contrived showerings), and dreams of a long-awaited trophy for the Men’s National Team were in almost visible thought bubbles beneath the wooden pub ceiling.  

The atypical scene amongst all the chaos was me, slowly arising from my seat with an awkward grimace on my face having just spent the past hour defending Harry Edward Kane MBE whilst others called for his head.  

“How can you sub off England’s all-time top goal scorer when we need a goal?!” 

Literally every non-Spurs fan: “He may as well be cast in bronze, he’s a statue up top and we need runners in behind… he’s used to receiving bronze medals ‘n’ all!!”

“Watkins will just end up feeding off scraps too, just he’s less likely to convert one of those scraps than our literal best player!”

Ah what a fool I turned out to look.  My ‘hot takes’ on Kane and Watkins were quite a bit spicier than I’m leading on.  Truth is I probably knew, deep down, that everyone else had a point.  However, I’m just programmed to defend my ex lilywhite hero throughout the years of him being called a trophy-dodging fraud.

I enjoyed the Watkins winner a lot less than I would have liked.  In ye olde club vs country culture war, I side more on the side of the perched cockerel, nevertheless I would have liked to have completely lost myself in the euphoria of a last-gasp goal.  Alas, I couldn’t fully suspend my feeling of embarrassment or the “ah gotcha” finger pointing of my mates.

There were many “culture wars” spawning amongst fans of the Three Lions; Southgate in vs Southgate out, who out of our plethora of number 10s should be starting, and I got myself entangled in the seemingly never-ending debate about whether 400+ career goal Kane is any good at kicking a ball.

The “culture war” amongst fanbases has always existed, but I’d argue it has become exceedingly prevalent in the social media age.  And it now firmly exists amongst the Spurs fanbase.

Suddenly it feels like it has become more important to be correct than it is to be flexible in your Tottenham feelings.  Sorry, Tottenham Hotspur* feelings.  You’ll be called deluded if you think Ange should be given more time, and you’ll be accused of not being a proper supporter if you want Ange gone.  The culture war is upon us, yet there will be no victor.

Those that are proven right about Ange will bask more in the glory of gloating at the expense of the opposition, and the opposition is not the claret and blue corners of London, nor the red franchise of London, but opposition from those with a conflicting Ange opinion.

Tottenham’s season in 2024/25 has truly turned into an ‘All or Nothing’ scenario that makes the 2019/20 Amazon documentary look laughably tepid.  We’re either going to win the Europa League and have the most glorious season in over a generation, or we’re going to get knocked out and put the seal on the worst season of my Spurs supporting life.

In either scenario, the “I told you so” brigade will be out in full force.  It’s sad to know there will be smug Spurs faces if Frankfurt bomb us out of the competition, and it’s sad to know there could even be sombre Spurs faces if Ange does lead us to European glory - just like my sombre face when Kane’s substitute crashed the ball through the Dutch net and into my bruised ego.

Yes there is of course hyperbole in what I’m writing - anyone supporting the mighty Tottenham Hotspur will be brimming from ear to ear should we defy all odds by marching to Bilbao and back to Seven Sisters High Road with a vase of glorious silverware.  We mustn't allow an inhouse culture war to diminish our feelings should we grasp that increasingly elusive trophy.

I like Ange Postecoglou.  I don’t think Ange Postecoglou has done a good job as our manager.  I’m undecided about whether he should be entrusted with the last ten weeks of our season.  I would be caught in no man’s land of a culture war, but I’ll still come out unscathed if we win the big pot in Bilbao.  There will be no nagging feeling of bullish Ange takes in the back of my mind like there was with Ollie Watkins - it will be filled with unbridled euphoria.

I urge anyone vehemently siding with Ange in or out to put those weapons to one side, point them back at Arsenal and allow the ridiculousness of Tottenham Hotspur Football Club to wash over them until the Europa League campaign is terminated one way or the other.  Refrain from calling anyone left backing Ange “the problem with this football club”.  Likewise, any Ange backers that use Europa League victory as an opportunity to have a dig at Ange doubters - delete those drafts on your Twitter account and bask in the glory.

This may be the worst peace offering deal that’s ever been written for a war, but it’s one that a war as trivial as this one deserves. 

Bring home the trophy for every single one of us in navy & blue, Ange, and let’s ensure we leave no man behind in the celebrations.