It was telling. As the half-time whistle blew at Bilbao’s San Mames stadium, just minutes after Brennan Johnson had bundled in what proved to be the only goal in the all-English Europa League final between Tottenham and Manchester United, the TNT Sports cameras captured one of the Spurs subs on the pitch, giving words of encouragement to his teammates.
It was telling but hardly surprising. It has been nearly ten years since Son Heung-min arrived in north London from Leverkusen as a 23-year-old with a £22million price tag. In the decade that has followed, the South Korean has seen everything.
Well, almost everything.
EUROPA LEAGUE CHAMPIONS!!! pic.twitter.com/PQXyRSBvfb
— Tottenham Hotspur (@SpursOfficial) May 21, 2025
He has seen managers come and go, players and friends arrive and depart, an old stadium left and a new one graced. He has been there through the highs, felt first-hand the lows. For all those years as the smiling, clean-cut poster boy of Spurs a trophy, it seems, was all that was missing.
But after a final that did, in many ways, live up to the billing of a game between the current fourth and fifth worst teams in the English top-flight, that wait is now over.
The time of Tottenham being the bottlejob boys, the perennial punchline of one of English football’s longest running jokes, a team that is, well, ‘Spursy’, has ended.
Tottenham have won their first major trophy in 17-years and their first European triumph for more than four decades. The coming days will inevitably be dominated by talk of salvaged campaigns, of second-season promises, of Champions League football next term.
In the years to come, the history books will tell of Johnson’s goal, of Vicario’s save, of Van de Ven’s on-the-line acrobatics, of Ange the clown.
Moments that will live forever 🏆 pic.twitter.com/0y5SYSpRo4
— Tottenham Hotspur (@SpursOfficial) May 21, 2025
But, as much as anyone, this is a victory that belongs to Son. There are perhaps few finer examples in the modern game of a true captain: someone so widely respected, so fiercely loyal, so infectiously merry he is impossible to dislike.
After the half-time gee-up, he arrived off the bench to replace Richarlison on 66-minutes and spent almost the entire time as a makeshift wing-back. It was Son’s 454th appearance in a Spurs shirt and it seemed he was hell bent on making sure his 455th would be as a trophy winner.
To turn out that many times for one club is remarkable. To still harbour that hunger for success after so many nearly moments is inspiring. If he hadn’t already, Son has cemented his place in Tottenham folklore; the man of many different handshakes finally getting his palms on some silverware.
“Let’s say I’m a legend,” the 32-year-old joked at full-time. As he held the Europa League trophy aloft, as ten years worth of joyful tears ran down his cheeks, it would be hard to disagree.
