What moved things onto a new level was adding some exotic ingredients to the bunch of young, hungry London boys. What does Miller think the effect of Ossie Ardiles and Ricky Villa joining the club was? He answers immediately: “It changed our club, changed our history. Wages all went up, demands went up; we stayed in better hotels, we had more sponsorship, we got invited to better places . . . It was a defining moment. I would imagine it was like winning the Double was a defining moment, or the push-and-run side in ’51. It vibrated all over the country, all over the world. It was a great time to be a young player at the club. They changed our club. Forever.”
The change was felt on the pitch as well as off. “We’d always had great individuals playing for the club,” says Miller. “Ricky had a tough 18 months before he got it together, but Ossie was magnificent from day one. And he certainly gave youngsters like me great confidence, just by saying, ‘Keep giving me the ball, you’re a great player’. One of his favourite sayings was, ‘It’s 95 per cent confidence, five per cent ability.’ That’s very true.
“We had two world-class players in Hoddle and Ardiles. Ossie was the better player – he was either good, or very good. Glenn could be very average, or obviously very good. He was erratic, and the way he played he could be taken out of the game. I’ve spoken to people like Graeme Souness and Peter Reid over the years – top, top midfield players – and they felt Ossie was different class. But Glenn could win games on his own and do things that were magical. Ossie was the outstanding player of our team, and we did build the team around those two. Everything we did went through them. But when you played against some of the long ball sides . . . I remember we played against an early Wimbledon team, and they were crap in those days, we said, ‘Look, for half an hour we’ve got to miss you out because the other team are giving it a whack, hitting balls over the top to stretch us. We have to counter by hitting it long as well, that will stretch them and force them back, enabling you two to have a bit more time and freedom when you do get it, and give you more space to play, and there were massive arguments about that. I remember Glenn and Ossie coming in at half time and rucking us, saying we weren’t giving them any balls. We’d say, ‘But it’s 0-0, and we’ll get time to play second half’, and we did, and we’d win games. Glenn always wanted to play, sometimes overplay, and so did Ossie and sometimes that was to the detriment of us.”
Wedded to the talent on the pitch was a powerful team spirit, and this owed much to the social scene Miller was in charge of. “Socially, win or lose, we’d booze,” he chuckles. “We’d socialise massively, and no one enjoyed it better than us, no one enjoyed it better than me. There were a lot of wealthy supporters, as well as the hardcore, so we were invited out all the time. Some of us made more of it than others! That meant we were very close, that nothing was ever bottled up. Of course there were arguments. We were a very democratic squad – we had meetings every morning – an hour, two hours. We had terrible rows. We’d all care passionately, and there were a lot of strong individuals. When we signed Clem, who was the final piece in the jigsaw, he’d come from Liverpool where he’d been extremely successful and he certainly had an opinion. Myself and Stevie, we were massive, loud characters, very strong in the team. Then you had Glenn and Ossie with their philosophical thoughts, Crooksie and Archibald always, always had something to say. So you can imagine in a team meeting on a Monday morning, a debrief – it went on for ages. And you were shouting people down. Keith as well was very passionate and Peter Shreeve had to be a big peacemaker in those days. Once or twice blows were nearly exchanged. But that was good, because we cared, and then we’d get out on the training pitch and it was all forgotten about. I think men were men then.
“Verbally we were very loud. Me and Steve used to be terrible on the pitch to other teams. It was part of the game, part of putting them off. It got us a reputation I suppose. I remember we walked into Nottingham Forest one day with our club blazers on from Aquascutum – flannels, you know. We looked smart, and there were some apprentices there looking at us wide-eyed and I said, ‘That’s right, the main men are in town.’ And they nodded. We went out and beat them 3-0. Sometimes you could be one up before you even got out of the dressing room. Especially in away games, because of your status and your persona. That was very important – look the part, act the part, be the part.”
With the character of the side being what it was, it seems even more amazing that John Syer and Christopher Connolly were embraced by the players when Keith Burkinshaw brought them on board. For Miller, it’s not so surprising. “You’ve got to remember we were so far ahead of the game in those days,” he says. “We had dietitians come in, fitness experts . . . the psychologists, we were the first team to do that. I have to be honest, I didn’t need a psychologist, and they’ll tell you that. Me and Clem used to laugh at it, but I think there were two or three individuals in the squad who definitely benefited. If one player benefits and plays better because of it, then it’s good.”
He warms to his theme. “We were one of the first teams to bring in proper physios, and they were part of the team too. Physios then were known as sponge boys. If there was anything wrong you went to the hospital and they forgot about you. So we really did lead the way in that sort of thing.”
So with all this expertise on board, how did the team approach matchdays? “We didn’t need too much of a talk before the game because the team picked itself and we knew how to play. We were very much into theory and tactics. We’d discuss what we’d do first 20 minutes, how Ossie and Glenn would play. As a back four it was pretty straightforward, we pushed a nice tight line, but we would talk tactically before the game about whether we’d push on, drop off, let ’em have it. Especially in Europe, we dropped off all the time, we had a lot of experience in Europe because we had a lot of internationals, and Peter Shreeve was good on that. The team talk before the game wasn’t much because it’d all been done. We’d have a meeting on the morning of the game, about 20 minutes, and we’d have a big meeting on the Friday, dossier on the other side, talking about them, especially the big sides and certainly European ones, and we would know everything about them – free kicks, corners, penalties. We were very well organised, very well prepared, so team meetings before the games were short.”
At the root of everything was Burkinshaw. “We got relegated and Keith was given time to have a go again. And also Keith, even with being such a hard, dour Yorkshireman, loved to play. He’s the one who always wanted to buy flair players and play creatively, he loved the passing players. He was a good coach as well, he put on good practices, and we had a lot of players wanting to learn.”
The team began to flower in the second season back up, embarking on an impossibly romantic run to the Centenary Cup Final. The semi-final saw Spurs leave London for the first time, to face Wolverhampton Wanderers at Sheffield’s Hillsborough Stadium. Miller has a forthright view on how that game turned out. “At Hillsborough the fans were fantastic. We were very unfortunate, we’d done enough to win and then that clown and cheat [Clive] Thomas gave a penalty in the last minute against Glenn and they scored.” The bitterness is still evident in the way Miller delivers the line.
But on the day, there was no alternative but to fight on. “I have to say, in extra time it was probably one of my best performances, helping to hold the team together because we were struggling, fitness-wise and mentally. But we held on and we were lucky to get a right result, defended really well last 20 minutes. At Highbury there’s 60,000 people – and 52,000 of them was Spurs fans. I remember the place was jumping; you could feel the vibrations on the pitch. That’s the best noise – crowd decibels – I’ve ever heard in my life. I’ve never heard a stadium louder than that, and I’ve played at the Bernabeu. Highbury was a great stadium and that night our fans took it over. We scored early on with Garth, and he added another before half time, then Ricky scored in the second half with 30 minutes to go; 3-0 up, it was one of the few occasions in your life when you can look around a
nd enjoy it, and the crowd were just jumping. I think they were trying to knock the stadium down. It was just fantastic. We had a party afterwards at Garth Crooks’s house, it was a memorable, special, special night – one I’ll never forget.”
After such a special semi-final, the danger was that the final would be an anti-climax. It wasn’t, and Spurs approached it with typical swagger. “It was the centenary final, we made the record with Chas & Dave, which was one of the most successful football records ever made, and I still think one of the best; Blue Peter, Top of the Pops – a lot of the clubs hadn’t done all this.
“The day of the final we didn’t play particularly well, but we hung on. We all determined that in the second game we weren’t going to make the mistakes we’d made in the first. It was a great game, and Glenn Hoddle, arguably, played his best ever game for Spurs that night. Especially the last 20 minutes when he kept the ball on the right, he was absolutely magnificent. He had tears in his eyes, he thought it was his last game for the club – his contract had expired and he thought he was off. But he stayed and thank God he did.”
Miller also has a clear memory of ‘that’ goal. “I’m saying, ‘Let’s push up, push up,’ so I miss the first bit of what Ricky did. Then I’m watching him from the other end and willing him – willing him to pass actually – and he keeps going on and on and the ball goes through the legs of the defenders and goes in. And you just want to chase up and celebrate, and then as you get there me and Stevie start saying, ‘Whoa, calm down, calm down – we’ve got to defend now, we’ve got to win the game.’ So it was ten seconds of absolute jubilation and then we’re shouting and swearing and reminding everybody, ‘Hold on, the game ain’t over yet.’ And that’s what Keith and Peter were doing on the line as well – big time. City had a right go at us last ten minutes, Dennis Tueart came on and just missed the post.”
At the whistle the Tottenham hordes in the old stadium went mad. “It was a great feeling, when you win something, especially as half of us had grown up together,” Miller says. “We had the party of all parties afterwards, back at the ground at the old Chanticleer restaurant with Chas & Dave and all our families and just close friends. It was the perfect way to end the season. I came out about half five in the morning, all of us did, but you couldn’t get drunk because you were already drunk when you started, you know what I mean? It was a fantastic night.”
Great things were expected the following season, but the club’s quest for four trophies combined with terrible winter weather that caused an enormous fixture pile-up which took its toll. “We did play 10 games in 20 days in the ’82 season,” says Miller, echoing Steve Perryman’s memory of the period. “1982 was the last big snow and I think we lost four weeks to postponements, which was at least half a dozen league games. We had to cram those in with League Cup and Cup Winners’ Cup, FA Cup – in the end it got to all of us. Four or five players had operations at the end of that year, ’cause we all had to play – everyone played 50 or 60 games. Stevie only missed three games. It was on heavier pitches, and we trained on heavier pitches, so don’t say they’re fitter today because they can’t be.”
Miller checks himself, anxious not to be seen making excuses. “But all the other teams at the time, Liverpool and Forest and Everton and Villa, they was all doing the same. But we didn’t have the depth of squad that we should’ve had, and we got serious injuries. I felt we were a good side that year and we were unlucky not to win the league.”
The first disappointment came in the Milk Cup final, when Liverpool became the first team to beat Spurs in a major Wembley final. Miller took it hard. “I walked off. I didn’t do a lap of honour. I was disgusted with it. For 90 minutes we done enough and we got caught by a sucker punch, lacking a little bit of concentration, Tony Galvin got injured very early on by Graeme Souness. Liverpool regarded Tony as our best player – always. Tony was the one player in that team you could never replace – you ask anyone and they’ll tell you. He very rarely got injured – fantastic player. Souness done him early on, he lasted but he wasn’t really at the races. And Keith made a big decision that day. He left out Graham Roberts. Paul Price had done OK, but in those days anyone could’ve played in our back four we were that good. So Keith left Robbo off the bench and made Ricky sub, which was a big call. I don’t think I’d have done that, but that was the romantic in Keith, having an attacking midfield player on the bench rather than a defender – against Liverpool! We got beat on a bad goal really, the equaliser. In extra time, Liverpool were always going to win.”
The focus switched to Europe, but Spurs fell foul of a tough Barcelona side in the semi-final of the Cup Winners’ Cup. “We were the best team in Europe that year, we should’ve won that competition. Barcelona kicked us out. Maybe we were a bit naive on that home leg, rising to the bait, they got us at it. Which probably stood us in good stead for when we won the UEFA a couple of years later.
“It was a bad mistake from Clem that gave them it, one of the few mistakes Clem made all year – two in the Charity Shield and one then – that was the only three rickets he made. Not bad for 60-odd games. But that gave them a lifeline. We went out there with a few injured and tired and we weren’t really at the races. We tried to change our gameplan but we should’ve been more physical. We weren’t the Spurs side that we should’ve been. But we were tired and the games were coming thick and fast.”
With the league also slipping away, only retaining the FA Cup remained as a target to salvage the season. “We had a great semi-final against Leicester, although they were useless. They were white with shock in the tunnel: the game was over before we started. We beat them, got to the final, but by then it was patched up sides going out. There were five of us carrying injuries. I had four injections before the game, and three to play in the second game. In my groin. And Glenn had ’em, Tony Galvin had ’em, we had loads of players having injections. It was QPR in the final and I don’t think they was ever going to beat us. We felt we earned something that season.”
Miller felt the players learnt a lot from a tough season, but that the club’s board didn’t. “We grew up a lot that season as a team, and got a lot of plaudits. But the carry-over from that season left us short the next, with all the injuries. That’s when we realised we’ve got to buy more players. And of course they didn’t. That was my biggest criticism of the board in them days, they didn’t invest. We had 14 or 15 in the squad, which was ridiculous. They were small-time people who were running the club – they had no personal money. Remember this was a time when you could buy Man United for three million quid. The money we must have been generating must’ve been a fortune. Every ground we played at was sold out and we were always going away on European trips and world trips to earn more money . . . Always, to get an earner.”
The following season appears to prove Miller’s point, with Spurs knocked out of both domestic cups in the fifth round and crashing out of Europe in only the second tie after a 4-1 beating at Bayern Munich. In the league, fourth place was secured. The next campaign was to be a dramatic one, culminating in a European final.
“The UEFA Cup was harder to win, because you only had eight decent countries in Europe, so the eight champions go into the European Cup and the eight cup winners go in the Cup Winners’ Cup, which was probably the weakest of the trophies depending on what year you played. But the UEFA Cup you’d have three or four sides from all these eight countries, about 30 good teams. You played three extra games, another two at the start and the two-legged final, so in those days it was by far – by far – the hardest trophy to win. You had Feyenoord, Bayern Munich, Anderlecht, Hadjuk Split, who all did or would go on to win their own championships, so we were a good side to win that competition.
“In the semi-final and the final, we changed our system. We had Gary Stevens in midfield, playing with Stevie in midfield – two defensive midfield players – with Tony Galvin and Micky Hazard. We rarely looked like conceding goals. In the first leg of the final we slaughtered Anderle
cht; Mark Falco and Archibald could both have had two each, and funny enough Parksie made a bad ricket for their equaliser in the last minute, dropped the ball and they were in. Bad ricket, and it just shows you how things can change in a fortnight. He became a hero. We didn’t have Clem for those matches, so we’re missing three big players – Clemence, Ardiles and Hoddle – for the final stages of a European competition, and we still won it.”
Miller had more reason than most to relish the victory. “I got one of my rare goals in Brussels. I’d had a terrible knee injury, got injured against West Ham at the start of the season – really bad, cartilage. I went to the rehabilitation centre at RAF Headley Court in Surrey, where I spent eight weeks, living there, to build myself up, and I came back for the FA Cup replay against Fulham. I came back in, and I really struggled. I was warming up for an hour before games, having injections so I could play. It took three or four years off my career, having those injections. It was only towards the end of the season that I started getting fitter and stronger, so I didn’t want the season to end.
“In the game in Brussels, I came up, met Micky Hazard’s corner, and it went in. It was a great moment for me. My contract had expired, and I was getting courted by a number of clubs – including Arsenal. Don Howe had had a chat with me. Spurs weren’t going to give me anything like what I wanted money-wise, what I thought I’d earned and deserved, so that was the closest I came to leaving. So that goal was a defining moment, because after I scored in the final the club wanted to hang on to me – it’s funny that, ain’t it? – and my loyalty to the club, which had always been there, and the promise of a testimonial in two years’ time, made me sign a new contract. Not too many players get to score in a European final.”
The Boys From White Hart Lane Page 6