The Bournemouth game was my last time at The Lane. And I got to take my 5 year old son. It was his first time at a football game, and was all a bit much for him. As the pre-match videos/audio got louder and louder he put his hands over his ears and shrank against me, upset and scared. I coaxed him through that, then came the Star Wars music and the teams coming out. Again, fingers in the ears and a cry of "I want to go home daddy". I coaxed him through that and the game started and I pointed out number 10 Harry Kane and his friend 20 Dele Alli - that cheered him up a bit and he was interested for a few minutes.
Then after 5 minutes, "can we go home yet daddy?" and then a bloke behind started shouting "Cam on Tot-nam!" and "Jan wants it!" and "Toby wants it!" and my son was intimidated and shrinking and scared, sat on my knee, needing a hug.
Then after 15 minutes Dembele scored and that was fine and good, he enjoyed that. The guy in front turned round and spoke to him, as did the old lady in front and the man next to him, so gradually he warmed up a bit to the whole thing.
Another goal, all good, then after about 35 minutes he's bored and wants to go home again. I gave him a massive Haribo injection at half time and expected him to pep up, but he was pretty bored, I think he's a bit tired after a long term at school in his first year. He nestled into me, head on my lap to try to sleep, and then spent the last 20 minutes watching "Go Jetters" on the iPlayer on my iPhone.
So in terms of his first experience and excitement... not so much.
But I was pretty happy with a thronking win, Janssen's first real goal was a brilliant moment, nothing bad happened, I saw the new ground of course and said goodbye to the old one. The old ground looks so old and brown and rusty and 80s outside... but still looks pretty damned good inside, a real shame to just smash all that to pieces.
On the way out of the ground we walked north to the north circular to get picked up. We bumped into some local nutter coming out of William Hill. He had a 70s brown pimp suit and gangsta walk and proclaimed himself to be the King of Tottenham and lectured us on how to live our lives, not to let others get us down and to be proud, all the while pulling a live rabbit along on a trolley whilst my son cowered away from the King's Staffordshire Bull Terrier. Ah, Tottenham.