It’s about the knot in your gut, plain and simple.

It’s the feeling you get when you see the top of the stands rising above the houses, or when you get to the top of the stairs at Seven Sisters and catch a first glimpse of the blue and white moving down the High Road.

It’s what brings us back every time; the knot. I believe everyone has a single moment that still triggers this, sometimes decades later. For me it was the first glimpse of the pitch seen through from the stairwell in the West stand. It was 1990, at home to Chelsea and my first time at White Hart Lane. I’ll never forget that day, and the feeling that rose up in me for the first time in what had already become an obsession.

I was eleven years old, and growing up in the Midlands it was the first time I had made it to a home game. I’d seen Spurs a few times in the years leading up to that weekend; my first match was at Highfield Road on our first visit to Coventry after the ill-fated FA Cup final. Next up Villa, Forest, and Derby. By the time I got to Tottenham it had taken on a sort of pseudo-religious importance, and I wasn’t disappointed.

The match itself remains quite non-descript in the memory, I vaguely remember Lineker putting away a penalty but not a lot else; the choking thickness of cigarette smoke in the bar before the match, and the blue and yellow of the carpet on its floor.

[linequote]I’ll never forget that day, and the feeling that rose up in me for the first time in what had already become an obsession[/linequote]

To this day though, it’s the memory of that first glimpse that makes me yearn for White Hart Lane like nothing else. None of the goals I’ve seen since, none of the often flawed magicians skipping past their man. Just that one or two second glimpse of Erik Thorstvedt warming up in a muddy goalmouth. Bang. That’s it, right there. The knot. Seen through a gap in a concrete wall, it’s as striking as it is mundane, but the thought still makes my heart beat a little faster, 25 years later.

To me this is the essence of supporting Tottenham Hotspur, and the many trials and tribulations (and the very few moments of glory) that I’ve endured in the years since are all viewed through the lens of that day and that one scene, burned deep into the retina of memory. Of course within the near future, White Hart Lane as we know it will cease to be. When the jaws of demolition take the West stand down- undoubtedly without any hint of ceremony- there will be a little piece of me that will go with it.

I’d be willing to bet that if you’ve got this far then you have a similar story to tell. For the uncle I can thank for giving me Tottenham Hotspur, it was the white criss-cross fencing that separated fans and pitch on his first match in 1958. How it stood out against the crowd, framing the field and the players in a match where the presence of an ageing Stanley Matthews was meant to be the big draw.

[linequote]Seen through a gap in a concrete wall, it’s as striking as it is mundane, but the thought still makes my heart beat a little faster, 25 years later[/linequote]

I feel that these vignettes, reminiscences and ‘over a pint’ anecdotes should be collected, for posterity and in memorial for the place that we all know and that is about to leave a massive hole in our lives, in the short term at least. Your own seat, your first view, the gangway where you always meet your mates. Whatever they are, let me have your memories or feelings towards the old stadium, no matter how inconsequential you may think they sound to others. I want to gather together the things that matter on a personal level, and share them between the fans, between people who get it.

You see, when it comes to it bricks and mortar are important. We invest our lives and our dreams in our environment, and in a world that continually shifts and morphs in front of our eyes places like White Hart Lane become the coathooks upon which we hang our identities without ever thinking that they too must change. How will we all look and feel in this new dawn? Who knows. But the experiences of our collective past can live on in our words long after this familiar chapter in Tottenham Hotspur’s history has become just that; history.

Send your stories about White Hart Lane to [email protected].

Stories will be published at myhartlane.wordpress.com after writers’ permission is sought.

The Fighting Cock is supporting the production of ‘Memory Lane’, a documentary charting the history of our great stadium. All proceeds from this film will be donated to a charity established to give young north Londoners a sense of pride and purpose… like Spurs.