Why I won’t be renewing my season ticket

The day I finally received my Tottenham Hotspur season ticket, a childhood dream came true. And I mean that quite literally. From the minute I found out that such a thing existed (You can have one ticket that lets you go to EVERY game?!?!) it was something I desperately wanted. Once it became apparent that my lack of talent would preclude me from attending every Spurs game as a player, a season ticket seemed like the next best thing. My daydreams about scoring the winner against Arsenal were replaced with thoughts of watching that goal go in from a seat that was mine. So the day that little piece of plastic arrived in the post, after years on the waiting list, was pretty special for me. At the time, I thought I’d have that seat for life. Now four years later, I’m giving it up.

Taking the decision not to renew my season ticket has been incredibly difficult. That ticket is more than just a childhood ambition fulfilled, it’s a sense of belonging. My membership to the only club I ever wanted to be a part of. It’s the physical representation of my love for my team, and all the thousands of pounds and hundreds of hours I have spent following them. But I just can’t justify carrying on.

Truthfully, I had spent much of the last year debating whether or not I would renew. I’m sure other season ticket holders would recognise the internal battle I was having. Under Mourinho the football was dour and the results were mostly poor. Paying some of the highest ticket prices in the country to watch a season of us trying to defend 1–0 leads, before eventually conceding a last minute equaliser, did not seem like value for money. On the other hand, it’s Tottenham. And no matter who is in charge or how we are playing I will always want to be at the Lane cheering them on. If nothing else had happened, I’d have been having this debate right up until I got the email prompting me to renew, when I would have immediately forked over the money to secure my seat. But something else happened.

There’s no need for me to rehash the 48 hours of the almost-Super League. Like fans across the world, I was disgusted with the sheer scale of the greed displayed by those 12 clubs and their complete disregard for the health of the wider game. I was shocked, if not surprised, by the arrogance on display, that those clubs believed they could reshape the fabric of modern football to suit their own interests and get away with it, that fans would just take what they were given. And I was staggered that seemingly no one involved had considered the optics of a cabal of ridiculously rich men seeking to further entrench their own wealth at a time when so many are struggling through a devastating pandemic. I am ashamed that my club was part of it. The fact that we would look to establish such an anti-competitive competition, where sporting failure came with no consequences, proved that Tottenham is not run first and foremost as a business, but run only as a business. The response of those who run the club in the aftermath really drove that message home.

Spurs remains the only one of the six English clubs involved in the Super League not to apologise to its fans. Chairman Daniel Levy’s statement only offered “regret” for the anxiety caused and thanked supporters for “presenting their considered opinions”, while continuing to insist that the Super League proposal was for the good of football. Not only did he not apologise, but he was still trying to sell the idea to supporters who had made clear their opposition. His lack of contrition only underlines his disregard for the supporters and the self-interest which governs his decision making at one of the biggest clubs in England. It is this fundamental disconnect between the people running the club and the fans who give it meaning that made my decision.

Football is for the fans. Without us watching the game means nothing. But football is also dependent on the fans. Without us there would be no money to be made from the sport. No eyeballs for advertisers, no ticket sales or TV subscriptions, no one to buy the shirts. Football clubs are entirely reliant on the passion, loyalty and money of supporters, and yet the people running these clubs show at best apathy and at worst contempt for us, the very people they are dependent on.

The Super League scandal was not some Damascene moment for me. I was already aware that my club took my support for granted. Ticket price rises were paired with season ticket benefits being stripped away. Big decisions on the future of the football club were taken without fan consultation. Mauricio Pochettino was replaced with Jose Mourinho, which still feels like a personal attack. The Super League was simply the straw that broke the camel’s back, a painful reminder that my club sees me as nothing more than a fixed income stream, a customer who will keep coming back no matter what prices they charge or competitions they foist upon us.

I am under no illusion that refusing to renew my season ticket will have any great impact. Someone else will take my place, my customer reference number replaced with another in a database. Spurs will continue to rake in millions of pounds from fans they care little about. The stadium, when it reopens, will I’m sure be full. But I won’t be there. I will no longer have my loyalty exploited. I will no longer hand over my hard-earned money to be treated as a captive customer rather than a valued supporter. I will no longer financially support the people who were willing to destroy the game I love to line their already full pockets.

I’m not giving up cold turkey. I can’t. I’m sure I’ll go to a few games next season. At a certain point I’m only punishing myself by staying away. But I won’t be applying for a season ticket again until things change. Fans must be consulted and represented when big decisions are made. Those who run Tottenham need to rethink how they see supporters, appreciate the value we bring to the game, and reward our loyalty, not abuse it. There’s a laundry list of changes that need to be made in football to make it a fairer, more sustainable game for everyone, but fan representation on club boards would be a start, a way to refocus the game on better serving the people who sustain it.

I believe these changes are possible. The Super League may have been a hideous plot, but it has brought some good. There is more scrutiny than ever before on the way football clubs are run. The government has initiated a fan-led review of football governance. More protests are planned, including outside the Tottenham Hotspur stadium. My hope is that this is a watershed moment for the game, and that change will come quickly. Until that change arrives, I will go back to dreaming of having a Spurs season ticket, hoping that before too long I will once again have a seat of my own.