Do We Have To Like Our Heroes?

The recent announcement of two new Hall of Fame members has made me realise something about my perception of Spurs players: I’m particularly drawn to the nice ones. 

Chris Hughton was the first of the recent inductees. I remember Hughton as a player, and what a player he was! An unfussy defender, he very rarely made an error and had an innate ability to read the game. Very few wingers outplayed him. He was likeable then, but every media appearance I have witnessed, as he made the journey from player to coach, assistant manager and ultimately manager, reinforced my view that he is a thoroughly decent guy.

Next to be announced was Ledley. In names, like knees, he only needs one. 

My initial reaction to this was to wonder how on earth he was not already in the Hall of Fame. The initiative was paused in 2017 and only recently re-commenced as part of the club’s drive to reconnect with its history. I’d have thought it was pretty clear in 2017 that Ledley was a club legend but, for whatever reason, he has had to wait.

I had the pleasure of spending time with Ledley when he was in Sydney for the preseason tour. He is a really humble guy, it’s clear why the club loves to employ him as an ambassador. He goes along with the selfies, autographs and ‘only got one knee’ song with great grace, even though he must find himself endlessly having the same conversation. 

I have a particular soft spot for Ledley though. He bought a copy of my book! I even signed it for him. Realising at the time the absurdity of this, I quickly asked him to sign a copy for me. It’s a prized possession. 

This realisation about my feelings towards players was in my mind yesterday, when I was playing soccer in the park with one of my grandson’s, Charlie. He asked me who my favourite player is, to which I said Sonny. 

Charlie, a six-year-old living in regional New South Wales, informed me that Sonny is not the best player.

Who is? I enquired.

Ronaldo, he informed me.

Where he got this impression from, I have no idea.

The question of who your favourite player is and who you think the best player is are two different things, of course. A distinction I suspect would be lost on Charlie.

Given my predilection to players I perceive as nice people, I suspect Sonny is insurpassable. For a few glorious years, the nicest guy in football was also one of the very best.  Surely, he’s a future Hall of Fame inductee.

All of this has got me wondering, though. Does it really matter? Would I rather support a team full of players that I don’t really like but win trophies (in which case I might as well become a Gooner)? Or does part of supporting a football club involve wanting to feel positively about the people wearing the shirt?

Maybe I’m an outlier, but for me the answer is very clear. 

How about for you?

Andrew Pettifer is the author of "When the Final Whistle Blows; Glory, Grief and Tottenham Hotspur" and the forthcoming "Two Tribes: Community, Big Tech and Tottenham Hotspur" due for release in September 2026