Well, given my geography these days, such trips are not nearly as frequent as they once were. I'm in SF, so only get back a few times a season, but make sure there are always matches and tend to average around 6 per season all-told (at one point I was getting 10-12 in a season but that's dropped off slightly due to schedule)...I'm lucky in that my career allows me to travel and gives me the flex of not being in an office...but yeah, I've been back for a few memorable ones since my Shelfside ST days, and that night at Eastlands was the best in two decades. Funnily, been there twice now and we've won each time (Infredible was the other) and did Maine Rd about 9 times and never saw us lose there either. Been to Old Trafford about 8 times and never seen us win! Funnily enough, when it comes to games I don't miss anything as our SF Spurs gets every match...I think the next time I'll be over now will be late April/early May...thought it might be a good laugh to try and organize a GG drink after a match sometime. I generally really enjoy the discussions, debate and exchanges here, be nice to meet some faces. Funny though, I don't miss much about home other than the countryside where my Mum is, the English pub-village and the Seven Sisters Rd-to-WHL walk...I know it's a brickhole, but it's my brickhole and I've been walking it regularly since the '70s...never said much during the Olympic Stadium stuff, but deep deep down inside, I'd have been pole-axed, so sad. the fact we will build virtually on the same site fills me with happiness.
At nearly 45 I've realized that life comes down to a few things. Family, the moment, a few good good friends, spending your time wisely, enjoying simple things such as pets, etc, and for me, Spurs. There hasn't been a day since I was a youngster first allowed to go to games on my own that I have not thought about Spurs. Not one. I have often thought of a tattoo, but I already have one inside and that grew from love...
It is why when the final whistle went @ eastlands that night I cried, and it's also why as I danced out of the effeminates after the 4-4 draw, with us still bottom of the league, I yelled back at a mouthy gooner that he wouldn't EVER understand what it felt like because he just didn't fudging have it in him. I remember the look on his face; he just stared. And I laughed loudly and told him to jog on...
I will die with this club tattooed inside me. I suspect many of us will. Christ, where did all that come from? Next I'll start posting pictures of The Shelf back in the days when I had my ST and broke my glasses watching Robbo equalize in the UEFA...