“For three team meetings they sat behind us all when Keith was having his normal training ground team talk. I don’t even think they were introduced to us, they were making notes about how these meetings were run. Eventually they had a meeting with Keith and they then had their conversations with us, and particularly with me, about how they didn’t like how our meetings were run, especially Keith’s moaning that the young players didn’t ever speak. The thing was, how are the youngsters going to speak after the manager has had his say, then the captain and the senior players? Keith would say, ‘Micky Hazard, what do you think, you’ve been quiet.’ Guess what? He wouldn’t say anything, how could he possibly talk after what’s just happened, you’d have to be incredibly brave. So meetings were then structured in a different way. The psychologists were there to improve the communication.”
Once established and having earned the tentative confidence of the players, Syer and his team went to work. It was Burkinshaw who had made the bold move to bring them in, but once again, Perryman was integral to turning innovative ideas into practical benefit.
“I think the big deal in all of this was Keith’s decision to bring them in. It was unbelievable, to give away a bit of his power over players, because it’s another person for players to moan about the manager to. But if they are giving the moan to someone else, at least he’s not getting it. At least he can do something about it, work on it or ignore it.
“I think I was the one who, as I did in other situations, said to the rest of the lads ‘It’s OK’ and that these fellas were all right and it was worth our while to speak to them. They talked about ‘muscle memory’ and ‘visualisation’, plus some other things about relaxation. I was aged about 30 at the time and I remember thinking, ‘Hey, I already do all that stuff’. So if I, with my years of experience, could see that what the sports psychologists were saying to me made sense, and confirmed it was a tried and trusted technique, then it must be OK. I hadn’t got the words or methods to communicate what I’d learned through experience so was unable to pass it on to these young players, but this fella obviously had and could. Young players would benefit straight away without the need to have to wait and find it out for themselves.
“I trusted John Syer and I could place the players’ trust in him on their behalf. Hopefully I didn’t abuse my position. I don’t think the players were aware that I would speak to John and say to him, ‘Listen, I think you should say such and such to so and so.’ But it was the obvious thing to do. We were employing these people to get the best out of us, so how can they do their job if they didn’t know? They needed help, needed advice on what line to take.
“Previously these kinds of discussions had been done in a team situation, which was wrong as the players were all different individuals. They now had this man asking them all sorts of common sense questions from the angle of not being ‘pure’ football. It was about discussion and opinion and a bit of depth, explaining why you should be doing things. And that’s what the players needed. The end result was we got results.”
By way of example, Steve cites the case of star strikers Crooks and Archibald. Purchased for a combined £1.45 million, in their debut season of 1980/81 the pair scored 48 goals between them. For the second season the stats were less impressive, with a combination of injuries and a drop in form resulting in 27 goals. “The first year they had to justify themselves in a new team and it worked: we got to Wembley and we won it. We were all elevated to a new level and we all felt we deserved to be at this great club. It was a massive boost to your ego and confidence.
“Garth and Steve had that success by running forward. Glenn, the ‘quarterback’ type, made good things happen by playing balls over the top for them to run onto. But because of the success in the first year, they didn’t want that any more, they wanted the ball to feet. Garth playing that way wasn’t a tenth of the player he was if he was running onto the ball – we had seen what his strengths were in the Highbury semi-final of ’81. Now, all of a sudden he wanted to have a touch, play people in. Garth was a runner towards goal and a finisher. Somewhere along the line, someone had got to get that message to them – ‘For Christ’s sake, start running forward.’ That was the manager’s responsibility, but if I could have helped that by suggesting to John Syer to ask them what they were doing differently and raise that issue about running forward, I said it. It worked last season – why change it?
“The John Syer contribution was a part of getting the message across. To be honest they weren’t my type of people, they were softly spoken, they were gentle men. They had no place in this group of bastards that we were. But they fitted. And they fitted with my help, that’s for sure.
“By the time Keith bought Syer in we were emerging anyway. It was a good team to get us up but we had to be better to win something. Keith added to it: it looked OK but not quite right and then the final piece in the jigsaw was the two strikers. Which sounds disrespectful to the people who were already there, but it was Archibald and Crooks that meant for all the good football, we scored goals as well. The signing of those two was the turning point.”
Both Crooks and Archibald were perceived as different from the players already in the squad. They were signed for substantial fees and arrived with reputations to live up to rather than establish. They both needed strength of character to thrive.
“When they first arrived at Tottenham, signed for big money, Steve and Garth formed a bit of a strikers’ union between themselves, thinking they’ve got to fight their corner. It’s great if you can be inventive as an individual player, but it’s easier if you can do it together as a pair, or link with your partner. They realised their combination play was vital.
“They were different characters. I really respected Archie because he was different, and anyone who’s different, they leave themselves open to ridicule, so I have real respect for him. He was quiet, on certain days moody. You could walk in the dressing room one day and say ‘Good morning’ and he’d be ‘Morning Steve!’ Next morning . . . [Perryman pulls a blank face].
“Garth reminded me the other day,” says Steve, “that I was instrumental in him coming to the club. Ray Evans [Perryman’s ex-Spurs team-mate] was at Stoke. He phoned me about Garth and I fed this info back to Keith and it eventually happened. We signed him, a very lively character, great fun, but a bit whizz-bangish. Excitable. Northern – there weren’t too many of them around in our team at the time. He was just such a different character, good for team spirit. It wasn’t nailed on that he would be a good signing. We didn’t think, ‘We’ve got a great player here’ – I don’t think we had to fight off too many people to sign him. But he settled, he was quick, and he always fancied himself as a player. He came as a very naive, lovely young man and he learned a lot of lessons with us and he elevated himself up to where he is today. What he did best was use his pace.
“Garth had the mickey taken a lot. He fancied himself and gave you the chance to have a go at him, in a nice way, to take the rise. Socially he would make an entrance, he set himself up with it with his clothes, he stood out and wanted to stand out. When he made the comment on the Wembley pitch, ‘My name’s in lights’, that was typical Garth – it was theatre, more than what we were doing. To me it was messing about in the mud but for Garth it was something more.”
The lynchpin of the team, however, was neither an exotic World Cup winner, nor even a big-money signing. It was the homegrown genius of Glenn Hoddle that arguably played the most fundamental part in turning a promising team into a truly great one.
“Glenn was the crux of all that was good or so-called bad about Tottenham,” says Steve. “If northern clubs wanted to have a go at us as southern softies, then Glenn was the one they went for; if others wanted to describe us as the best attacking team in the country, it was Glenn who they talked about.
“It was his vision and ability on the ball. He was the main man. I was the leader in how we did things, but Glenn was the leader of our play. Albeit that Ossie once told
me, ‘I am the most intelligent player in this team. Glenn needs to think he’s the best player in the team. And I let him think that, but really I am.’ Of course there’d be periods when Glenn was off form or injured, so how would we cope with that when we had built it all around him? But then, of course, we had Ossie who could change his game, Micky Hazard to come in; if it was an away game in Europe maybe we didn’t want Glenn in there. There was more to the team than Glenn, with a lot of thought – a lot of leaders if you like. But I think Keith and I spoke more words to each other about Glenn then any other player, how to get the best out of him, give him the ball, and cater for his interests. We knew he was the catalyst. If he was right, we were right.”
How to exploit this extraordinary talent to the full was a responsibility for the whole team. “We just realised that the more time Glenn had the ball the better we were going to be. Without doubt, the fella could accept the ball in any situation, anywhere on the field, and you could trust him to deliver. It didn’t go right all the time. What he did was so special it was very hard to keep delivering it – but percentage-wise he could handle it all, under pressure with players around him. His vision was outstanding.
“We evolved this moving set piece: Clemence would take the cross, I’d get out early and he’d give me the ball. I’d look long, cut into Glenn, he would feint, let it run across his body and smash it to Tony Galvin in the corner and off we went. I liked getting it off the keeper, I was quicker than any forward in getting out. Glenn wanted the ball from me, to feet, rather than having to run for it, and Tony was a willing runner into a forward wide position. It was players doing good things together, matching each others’ abilities. There would be times when I would receive the ball and there would be 50 yards of space to run into, so I might as well run into it. But we trusted each other, Glenn wouldn’t complain if I didn’t give it to him. That team grew up together and we all trusted each other.”
It’s reasonable to think that keeping company with such a stellar talent might intimidate other players, or breed resentment. But if there was any envy or tension in the squad concerning Hoddle’s class, Steve is quick to disavow the notion.
“Keith accused me one day of being soft on Glenn. ‘The only one you don’t go for is Glenn – why’s that?’ I had to cajole Glenn as I didn’t think he would have taken too kindly to a bollocking. I had total respect for him as a player. If you ever imagined the kind of player you wanted to be, it was Glenn; that’s why I think he was such a special player for the crowd. The crowd could imagine themselves being a Maxie Miller, or me, or Robbo – I don’t think they could imagine themselves being a Glenn. He was the kind of person you paid to watch. We had to elevate him to a status that Glenn was our strength, not our weakness. If we’d said, ‘Glenn, get back, put your foot in’, or, ‘Glenn, any chance of heading that?’ you may as well not have him, you may have just switched him off, which is what a lot of managers would have done. Keith was absolutely right for him.
“I’ve heard Glenn say about me, ‘You know, that Steve Perryman was a lot more talented than you ever gave him credit for.’ I know he also said that when I was playing. Well guess what, I’m gonna give him the ball more! I think we all wanted to be liked by Glenn, we wanted this great player to give us his approval. I don’t think I was soft with him, but I erred on the side of respect.”
If anything, the criticism of Hoddle by outsiders brought an already close-knit squad closer together. To mock ‘Glenda’ for his supposed lack of stomach for a tackle, or to snipe at his talent with a football was seen not just as an affront to a friend but a slur against the squad as a whole and the abiding philosophy of the club. As a result, Hoddle’s successes brought a sense of pride to his colleagues, with Steve as pleased as anyone.
“When he scored on his debut for England, against Bulgaria, he came into training the next day and there was joy for him. Absolutely no jealousy, we were all just delighted for him. We truly believed in him. I’ve got some very good friends, football people who did not stop questioning me about Glenn. So much so it led to me saying to Keith, ‘Let’s stop talking about what he can’t do, let’s talk about and make hay out of what he can do.’ Because that talent was so special, it was obvious.
“Keith said to me recently, ‘Have you ever watched the ’81 final?’ I’ve seen bits of it but I don’t think I’ve ever sat down and watched it all the way through. Keith said, ‘I watched it the other night. Do you know who our best player was? Glenn Hoddle. He worked, he ran, chased, headed, he even tackled.’ So we’re still talking about Glenn all those years later. We all wanted to be like Glenn, if we’re truthful. We all wanted his ability. We were in awe, respected him, but outside influences questioned him, which is probably why he never got to the stage he did with England as he did with Spurs. They didn’t discuss him enough, think about him enough, respect him enough. And therefore when they did use him it was done out of the attitude that ‘everyone’s clamouring for him, we’d better play him’. Which was a waste of time.
Media cliché from the sizable anti-Hoddle faction in the press and ranks of ex-players would also have it that Hoddle was and still is an aloof figure, too enamoured with his own talents to relate to other footballers. Again, Steve dismisses the idea. “He was one of us, homegrown, fun, a bit more serious now as we probably all are, but one of us. He met Paul McCartney once on Top of the Pops. McCartney was in such awe of Glenn, and Glenn was wilting at the fact Paul McCartney was stood in front of him, it was unbelievable – they couldn’t speak to each other. But there was always going to be conversation about Glenn. You could be sat with an MP or whatever and it would get round to Glenn, and this is in the day before blanket TV coverage and the internet. Can you imagine what it would be like now?”
Back in 1980 with the varied parts of his team now assembled, Burkinshaw set about translating promise into tangible reward. By the start of the season, Tottenham fans had endured seven trophyless years. The promotion campaign and cup runs had reinvigorated the club, Hoddle’s emergence as a world-class talent and the big signings had made Spurs headline news again, but with such relative progress there was added expectation: Burkinshaw’s Spurs now needed to deliver.
In his understated way, the manager gave his players the freedom to put his purist principles into practice. “Keith trusted us to do it right. I think he just created the team, the stage and the environment for us to go and play. I suppose his main job was to keep it going right and solve any problems.
“You could disagree with Keith, no problem. He challenged you, he’d come over in his Yorkshire way and ask, ‘Where are you going to be in five years’ time?’ That was his technique, to ask searching questions. There was freedom – I don’t ever remember any strong vibe of ‘must do this or that’. With Bill Nick, the instruction for midfield players was, for the first 20 minutes, you nail your opponent, you don’t give him one free kick of the ball. You don’t have to win it, not even block it, but let him know you’re there so he can’t get his head up and make the pass. With a normal type of opponent after 20 minutes you can release yourself and go and do what you can do. If it’s a good opponent it might be 60 minutes, if it’s a great opponent you might have to do that for 90 minutes, you nail him. There was structure there to build on. I don’t ever remember Keith, to me at least, ever being quite so structured with a framework.”
“Keith and Peter Shreeve worked well off each other. They were totally different characters, but made for a great partnership. He was a good man, Pete, tactically astute and very, very thorough. And when he spoke the players listened. He could absolutely hit the mark in the dressing room at half time when something needed to be said.
“Peter was a very important asset to the club, and he was good for Keith; Keith was a quite serious northerner, not a strict disciplinarian, but he could be quite blunt. Peter was very much a football man, but a bit more light-hearted, especially away from the game, and he could put something across in a ‘cockney’ way w
e could all relate and react to. That went down well with us players; there were times to be serious and times to enjoy yourself, and you could have a laugh with him. There were a lot of Londoners in the team and he could relate to that. There was a ‘London humour’ if you like in the dressing room, and Pete revelled in it. He believed in the team being together and bonding, and would come with us on, say, a trip to Cheltenham races to spend time together. And he made training fun; Fridays we’d have the nine-a-sides where we’d all take the rise out of each other and Pete would join in with his ‘I’ve got a plan’ catchphrase. We liked him for it. He was really, really funny, and brought a smile to the club. But when he needed to be serious, he was. Pete was a smart dresser, too, and he used to wear flash ties – all good quality stuff, some of them from Aquascutum, but Pete would wear them to make an impression, get a comment and break the tension – a little ice breaker. He had a bit of style about him and that matched our team.”
Within that loose framework, the side blossomed. In the league, Spurs could not maintain the consistency needed for a title tilt and ended the 1980/81 season yet again in mid-table. But in the FA Cup it was a different story. The one-off, winner-takes-all knockout game in which moments of individual and collective brilliance could make the difference were ideally suited to how the team was set up. Commentators were tipping Spurs for a good cup run, with Manchester City manager John Bond predicting Spurs would lift the trophy, and all the portents were in the north London club’s favour.
But the run nearly came to an end at the first attempt. Spurs laboured to a replay victory over QPR, but from then on there was no stopping the Lilywhites. Successive draws were kind: Spurs did not leave the capital until the semi-final on neutral territory against Wolves, but with the midfield and forward line in free-flowing, goal-scoring form, Spurs became an irresistible FA Cup force.
The Boys From White Hart Lane Page 3