The Spurs Shrines: Part 1 - White Hart Lane

I fell in love with our club and its stadium as a seven-year old in 1968. Oh, how I loved being at White Hart Lane. The air of expectancy was palpable as thousands of fans milled about. It was a beautiful sea of navy blue and white, all manner of Spurs regalia on display. I would buy a matchday program, a rosette, a badge (in the old days, they were attached with safety pins which I much prefer to the current, thicker pins), sometimes a scarf and/or a beanie and a cup of hot Bovril. Touts were a part of the scene, always hard-as-nails geezers who would you not want to mess with. I have done business with them over the years, inevitably paying a lot more than I had planned for. A cordon of police, both on foot and mounted, would escort groups of away fans to their place in the Park Lane (South) stand. Fights between the two sets of fans would sometimes break out and you would have to quickly run away from danger.

I used to love seeing the pitch on entering the stadium; that magnificent expanse of green, 115 yards long and 74 yards wide. I found that first glimpse of the floodlight pylons on match nights thrilling. The sheer brilliance of the light that emanated from them was something to behold. The half-time scores were conveyed via metal plates containing letters and numbers, which were displayed alongside the pitch, at ground level. One's vision was never completely unimpeded at The Lane due to the presence of some supporting pillars but it did not seem to matter. It was all part of the stadium's distinctive charm. 

I had a season ticket in the new West Stand during the 1980s. It opened in 1982 and contained 6,500 seats and 72 executive boxes. Just walking along Bill Nicholson Way, through the famous old wrought-iron gates and into the stadium courtyard was always uplifting. Then you would squeeze through the old turnstiles, which made that familiar loud, clickety click sound. It was a very good seat, in the upper tier, close to the half way line. Everything was pristine and I remember that the royal blue, plastic seats were a significant upgrade on the previous wooden ones. There is always one loud mouth within earshot at football matches and the one who sat behind me for several years was particularly tiresome. He was, of course, highly critical of all of the players but seemed to have it in for our keeper, Ray Clemence. His catch phrase was: "Clemence, you're a 24-carat wanker!"

There were, unsurprisingly in that era, one or two, unabashed racists, who would often shout out vile abuse. Nobody would ever challenge them.

On occasion, rival fans, who had bought tickets from touts, would be sitting in my vicinity and fights would break out. You could usually smell the alcohol on their breaths. It was the era of the transistor radio and you would always see fans holding one close to their ear and excitedly conveying news of the scores in other matches to the fans around them.

The feeling you got when you were at The Lane, especially when it was a big cup game, was

second to none. The sense of pride, of knowing that you were a part of something special, of

reveling not just in your own joy when we scored but seeing the excitement on the faces of

everyone around you. Bonding with strangers, just feeling entirely comfortable being part of the Tottenham family and knowing that there was nowhere else in the world you would rather be.

Alan Fisher, at Tottenham On My Mind, in his tribute to the stadium, describes it best:

"White Hart Lane has a spiritual power that touches us profoundly, more so now than ever

before……There have been times when I could not hear myself think. The stands vibrating with noise, deafening, all-encompassing, a rumble beneath our feet, shaking the rust from the girders and moving us to the very core." (1)

White Hart Lane was our home from 1899 until 2017. We played a total of 2,395 games there, of which 1373 were won, 480 were lost and 542 were drawn. Our record crowd was 75,038 against Sunderland in 1938. The stadium was designed by the legendary football stadium architect, Archibald Leitch. His new £60,000 East Stand, built in 1934, featured the only raised terracing in the country. The upper tier was all seating and the lower tier was split into two standing areas, which could hold almost 19,000 fans. The upper section became known as “The Shelf.” It was the iconic home to our most vocal, diehard supporters. The deafening roar that emanated from The Shelf, all along one side of the ground, was a defining characteristic of The Lane.

The way that the three distinct fan groupings of the stadium, namely the Shelf, The Park Lane

and the Paxton Road (North Stand) serenaded each other was surely unique. It was always

marvelous to hear as they bellowed out their signature chants: "we're the Shelf Side, we're the Shelf Side, we're the Shelf Side, Tottenham; we're the Park Lane, we're the Park Lane, we're the Park Lane, Tottenham; we're the Paxton, we're the Paxton, we're the Paxton, Tottenham."

1. “Farewell to the Lane.” Tottenham On My Mind. May 12 th 2017

Harvey Burgess is the author of "More Trauma Than Triumph: The Life of a Spurs Fan"