Tottenham's 11,400-Mile Journey: Embracing Anonymity in Sydney
The journey started in Enfield and ended, after more than 30 hours in the air and a couple of bleary-eyed stopovers, on the other side of the world. By the time Tottenham and Roberto De Zerbi touched down in Auckland, then hopped another three hours across the Tasman to Sydney, the squad had clocked up around 11,400 miles and a serious sleep deficit.
The football, though, is only part of the story.
De Zerbi vs jet lag
De Zerbi did not sugar-coat it.
"Just work and sleep, trying to sleep, because I am suffering a lot from the jet lag," he admitted. "No restaurant, no nothing. Just to prepare the guys to play in the best way we can, and try to sleep something more than three or four hours!"
This is the reality behind the glossy tour photos: a head coach stalking hotel corridors with a gameplan in one hand and a body clock somewhere over the Indian Ocean. Training sessions squeezed between sponsor events. Tactical meetings fighting for space with fatigue.
Yet clubs keep coming. They always will.
Why the tours never stop
Premier League sides do not zig-zag across the globe for the legroom. The equation is blunt.
- First, the money. Promoters and sponsors pay handsomely to bring English football’s travelling circus to their doorstep. Millions flow into club coffers from these summer excursions.
- Then comes the long game: building the global fanbase. Every selfie, every open training session, every glimpse of a star in a hotel lobby is an investment in the next generation of supporters who will buy the shirts, the subscriptions, the tickets if they ever make it to London.
- And there is a more human element. These trips are also a thank you to those who already live and breathe the club from afar but will never realistically see their team at home. So the club comes to them. For a few days, their city becomes White Hart Lane in miniature.
Any coach would prefer a clean pre-season at the training ground, with double sessions and no long-haul flights. Yet once the heavy legs ease, tours create something hard to manufacture at home: time. Time together in hotels, airports, buses. Time for new signings to find their place. Time to work without the usual swirl of everyday distractions.
Football in a rugby town
Sydney offers another twist. Tottenham have a solid following in Australia. OzSpurs, the official supporters’ group, brings together a sizeable, passionate contingent. The appointment of Ange Postecoglou only strengthened the connection, pushing the club’s name into headlines and conversations across the country.
But step back and look at the sporting landscape. In a city of 5.6 million, football – the English kind – does not rule. Rugby League dominates talkback radio. Australian Rules Football commands its own loyal, booming audience. Football sits further down the food chain, fighting for oxygen.
Even with Postecoglou’s profile, plenty of locals would struggle to name a current Spurs player, let alone recognise them on the street.
For the squad, that is not a problem. It is a perk.
Spurs in the crowd, not above it
On Monday night, around 9.30pm, two young midfielders drifted through the crowds at Sydney Harbour. Archie Gray and Lucas Bergvall, both in white Spurs-branded tracksuit tops and shorts, wandered towards the lights of the Sydney Opera House.
They were not hiding. They did not need to. Tourists snapped photos of the skyline, not the footballers in their midst.
No one stopped them. No autograph requests. No phones thrust into their faces. Just two players blending into the flow of people enjoying a mild Australian winter evening.
On Tuesday, the pair went again, this time on bicycles, pedalling through a city that barely glanced twice at them. Other members of the squad have slipped through similar scenes: spotted in passing by the odd fan, but largely left alone. Board members and even the Lewis family, the club’s owners, have moved about with the same quiet freedom.
The coaching staff have taken their own detours. Some have been seen in Sydney’s botanical gardens. De Zerbi himself has been spotted walking the city, phone pressed to his ear, still carrying the slightly dazed look of a man whose body has not caught up with his itinerary.
The hidden benefit
Being a Premier League footballer brings all the obvious advantages: the wages, the status, the adulation. It also brings a life lived under constant observation. At home, a simple walk through a shopping centre can turn into an impromptu signing session. A coffee run can become a mini fan event.
In Sydney, the dynamic flips. The badge is there, the tracksuit is there, but the anonymity holds. For a few days, Tottenham’s players can stand in a crowd, not above it. They can watch the harbour lights, queue for a drink, cycle through unfamiliar streets and simply be part of the background.
On paper, this is a commercial tour: long flights, friendly matches against Sydney FC and then Chelsea, media duties, sponsor demands. In reality, it also offers something much rarer in their world.
A little peace. A little normality. A breath of fresh Australian air before the Premier League noise starts again.
