Around the pitch and in the stands, the Tottenham Hotspur stadium is both magnificent and intimate, but the jarring exterior is mid-table fodder
It was, for a while, all about the cheese room. The new Tottenham Hotspur stadium, it was reported, was to offer its premium customers a selection of specially sourced cheeses, a concept which encapsulated how far the football fan has come from those black-and-white, crackly-voiced days when a gristly pie was all you got, an edible version of the brown balls that were hacked around the Flanders-like mud of those bygone fields – a distillation (conceptually speaking) of the catarrh of a million Capstans.
Which, goes the narrative, was how it should be. In the tribal warfare of football you don’t want the food to be too nice. And what could be more Waitrose, more metropolitan elite, more Highbury and Islington than a range of fermented curds? What could be less likely, except perhaps CO2 foam or a flame-retardant blanket, to put fire in the belly?