As part of Cartilage Free Captain’s commemoration of the final match at White Hart Lane, we are collecting and posting memories and stories from the Cartilage Free Captain community about the Lane and what it means to us.
We want your stories as well. Post your memories and stories either on the site as a FanPost, or email them to email@example.com. They don’t have to be long. They just have to be real.
My first memory of White Hart Lane was Spurs vs. Benfica, the European Cup Semi-Final, in 1962. It was a wonderful night when the crowd were called “the twelfth man” as it was so loud and urged the players on. We lost overall (although Jimmy Greaves scored goals that were given offside but were not!), but it was still a night to remember.
I remember queuing right around the ground and along the High Street on a Sunday morning to get tickets for European games.
I remember the club bringing Jimmy Greaves back from Italy, and him scoring a hat-trick in his first game at the Lane.
Wonderful times, double winners, and great players. But this time it's different. We are all involved, manager, players and the fans. There were not many young girls watching football in those days like they do today, so from one old girl to another, thanks for so many memories. You will be missed, but great times are coming.
— Linda, Maldon, Essex
I’ll stick to facts. My first trip to WHL was with Dad, and it was a day I will never forget. Leeds had won the League the year before, we sat on the first row right on the halfway line. I had never heard noise like it and got involved in the cheering immediately. We won 4-0, Teddy [Sheringham] got a hat trick, and from that moment the man could do no wrong. [Neil] Ruddock also scored. That guy is also a legend. I didn’t really see the goals and the game is a blur, but I fell in love that day.
A more light-hearted story: when I had to take a client to Spurs vs Arsenal match, I woke up at 12pm, very late. With a yelp, I threw on the nearest clothing, ran to Greenwich station and was running for White Hart Lane an hour later when I finally got to ground.
Twenty minutes late, I made my excuses, and they had just changed hospitality from being behind a window to being able to sit outside. I sat down with my client and he gives me a strange look. “You’re brave” he said, because I was wearing a MASSIVE red jumper. After jeers and stick from colleagues and clients I took off the jumper. Obviously, since I was in such a rush, I had not worn a T-shirt and had to spend the rest of the afternoon with clients, naked from the waist up. To make matters worse we lost 5-4, but it was an incredible game. We went to the British Queen for beers after and sang and drank (me, half-naked) like we had won. Arsenal were very good at the time and we were not.
The British Queen is no longer there but I still have the jumper. Going to miss you, White Hart Lane.