The Boys From White Hart Lane

by Martin Cloake

  Clemence was to make quite an impression. “There was such a big age difference we were never going to be best pals, but he was always decent.” Presumably Clemence was good to train with. “No, he was useless because he never trained in goal,” laughs Parks. “He loved playing out on the pitch. Maybe on a Thursday morning he’d do about 30 minutes handling, but that was it. That was the biggest problem for me trying to learn. Make no mistake, he was a world-class goalkeeper, better than Peter Shilton. The biggest difference between Ray and Peter was that every single day Peter had to work on his game. Ray Clemence was just a natural. He was fit, strong, agile; he had natural ability – and he was the original sweeper keeper, quick across the ground – he had everything. If I was going to say to someone, ‘That’s what you need to be a top-class goalkeeper,’ it would be Ray Clemence.

  “Mentally he is the strongest person I’ve ever known in my life. He’s a winner, he has a determination that he won’t be beaten. There was a shooting practice one day and he must have stood there for 15 minutes without hardly moving. The lads were chipping him and curling it round him, slaughtering him until someone chipped him once too often and he said, ‘Right, that’s it. No one’s going to score now.’ And for the rest of that shooting practice no one scored a goal. He was making saves that were unbelievably good. There ain’t many people in the game that can just switch it on and off like that. It’s difficult to learn off someone like that, because I never had the ability to switch it on and off. He was fantastic. I learned loads about being a professional, what the game meant to him, what he thought made me a good or a bad keeper – he would talk to me but he never showed me because he didn’t need to practise to improve himself. In the England set-up Don Howe at the time felt that because Peter Shilton would go in and work at 100mph every day that he was the better goalkeeper. What he didn’t realise was that Ray didn’t need to do that. It was perceived that Ray was a little lazy which was why Peter Shilton won the battle of the number ones.”

  But even with such an outstanding role model alongside him, Parks recognises now that things were already going stale for him after achieving such success so early. Talking about how his working day changed once he had signed professional forms, he says: “The days were shorter because you didn’t have the jobs to do. If it was the early part of the week we might pop up the road to the pub and have a beer and something to eat after training. I was living in Chigwell. Me and Ian Crook were typical snookerheads, so we’d go to the snooker hall for a couple of hours. Really, when you look back at it, it was all time when you should’ve been practising what it was that got you to that position. The difficult thing was that you’d have to manage your first team duties with your reserve team duties, so you’d definitely play a reserve game, you’d be in and around the first team squad – it was emotional swings and roundabouts. You’d be thinking, ‘I could be playing for the first-team on Saturday’ only for Ray to get fit and start training on a Friday; then you’d look at the team sheet and you’re in the reserves again. I must have as many reserve team appearances as anyone that’s ever played the game. I played for six years under Ray Clemence and never really got an opportunity, he was so consistent. It tends to take its toll, and you get a little bit pissed off with it really. You become resigned to the fact that you’re not going to play games and you lose your edge a little bit. I probably stopped doing what I should have been doing.”

  But there was, of course, the 1984 UEFA Cup. As Parks is keen to point out, he played more of a role that season than is generally remembered. “I played in the quarter-finals, semi-finals and the final of the UEFA Cup, and I was in the team from January in the league. Ray was going through a poor run of form and I remember Steve Archibald saying to me, ‘Make sure you stay sharp, he’s not playing well and we’ll have to give you a chance soon.’ We played at Fulham in the FA Cup and Ray got injured. Graham Roberts went in goal and we ended up drawing. I played in the replay. I’d made my league debut against West Ham the previous season, and when I was 16 I came on as a sub in a Cup Winners’ Cup game, so I’d made my debut early enough and I was thinking, ‘Come on, I’ll have some more of this’ but it didn’t come. Then suddenly Ray’s injured and I’m in the team, and it carried on. I was getting quite good press, doing well. We played Austria Vienna at home in the quarter-final and I got a whack on the knee, had to have five stitches. We were playing Liverpool at Anfield on the Saturday and it was a place I’d always wanted to play, but when I got up the morning after the Vienna game the knee had swollen up, it was infected and that was it. Ray was fit, and in the build-up to the quarter-final he’d actually gone to see Keith and said, ‘I’m fit, I want my place back.’ Keith had told him, ‘Sorry, you ain’t getting it back.’ So you can imagine the boost in your confidence that gives you. I was really buoyed, then I get injured and I was out of the team.

  “I was still only 21 and had good experience. A lot of the supporters knew about me; the manager was happy. Ray played at Liverpool and in the second leg of the Austria Vienna game. They did a shooting practice on the Friday morning and apparently – I was training with the reserves – the last shot of the morning caught Ray on the end of his finger and broke it. So I was back in the team.

  “The semi-final at White Hart Lane was a really nervy game, at one point I nearly juggled a cross into the back of my own net. I was going to punch but I changed my mind at the last minute and ended up playing pat-a-cake with the ball under the crossbar. But we went through. By the time of the final our league form had tailed off, but I was in the first team. I ended up playing about 28 games. People think Keith brought me on for the penalty shoot-out, but I played most of that season and I’d earned the right. I was really pleased.

  “We knew Keith would be leaving after the final and that gave us an extra incentive. It was a difficult competition to win. Knowing Keith was leaving was a real disappointment to me because he’d always shown a lot of faith in me. Keith never really said much to us about it, it wasn’t his style. He kept himself to himself, and had a real strong will. And he was a very good football man – he wasn’t one for the pats on the back for himself, he always heaped the praise on the players.

  “For the final I kept my place. The first game was exceptional – I don’t think it gets the credit it deserves. We went into the match not really knowing European players like you do today, and they had an awesome team. Munaron in goal, he was outstanding – I’ve come across him recently because he works for the Belgian FA. I liked him because he was of my stature, same height. They had Franky Vercauteren, Morten Olsen the Danish captain – class all over the park. They had the lad Scifo who was 17 at the time. In that first game I thought we outplayed them. Paul Miller put us ahead, but they equalised. They got a shot, and I got a lot of criticism for this, but there was no way the goal was down to me. If I make a mistake I’ll hold my hand up. The corner came in and there was a crowd of bodies, the lad hit a shot from the edge of the box and it just took a deflection and bang, it was in the back of the net. I remember feeling really hard done by with all the criticism I was getting on the telly. When we came off the pitch the feeling was that we’d done a really good job – they know we can play and we’ve held them at their place, now we can finish them off at ours. European nights at White Hart Lane were brilliant – when that Shelf side was packed out it was awesome.

  “The weather in the build-up was warm and sunny; there were the photocalls and interviews which was a new thing for me but I was quite enjoying it. Once it started to sink in you realised the magnitude of the game. Waking up at eight in the morning when you were kicking off at eight at night was such a long day. It’s the only time I’ve ever been nervous all day. I was still nervous when I was standing in the tunnel, but when you go on the pitch the nerves usually go. This time they didn’t.

  “Anderlecht turned it right round, I thought they played some superb football on the night, and probably deserved to take the lead when they did. As the second half wa
s going by you could feel the tension in the crowd. When people say it’s like an electric atmosphere it really is, you can feel the buzz around the place. You don’t hear individuals screaming, you can just hear the din of the crowd. It’s brilliant to play in.

  “I started thinking, ‘We’re never going to get a goal here.’ Keith did really well; he made the substitution [bringing Ardiles on to prompt an assault of the Belgians’ goal] and it changed things. Munaron made three or four outstanding saves – a couple off Steve Archibald. Then we ended up with a scrambled goal, down off the bar and in the back of the net. Fantastic. Extra time it was a little bit flatter. Both teams were feeling the pace. As soon as the ref blew the whistle for the end of extra time the nerves went. I knew that I could save at least one without a doubt. It didn’t phase me, because you’re never going to get the blame for letting in a penalty.

  “I remember the takers being organised and everything being got ready. Clem never really said anything to me; he just let me get on with it. I didn’t like messing around, walking up to the ball or kicking my studs on the post. I liked to get on my line and have a look. Morten Olsen was their first taker and he was unbelievable. From about 20 yards out he just looked into the bottom corner by my left hand and I thought, ‘That’s it, I’m going there.’ He struck it quite sweet and I thought it was a really good save because he put it low and I chucked myself at it and just got it round the post. I was really chuffed with myself. The penalties rolled on, no problem, and I’m thinking, ‘We’re in here.’ Then Danny Thomas steps up and Munaron makes a really good save. I looked at Danny’s face and it was amazing, the sadness and dejection. The crowd went quiet, then they started to roar and sing his name. A few of the lads came up to him and took him back to the centre circle – he was close to tears. I walked into the goal and Gudjohnsen [father of Eidur] came up to take his penalty. And I have to say it was the worst penalty in the world; it was just a shocker, my mum could’ve saved it. It was so predictable. His run-up was poor, it was short, he wrapped his foot round it, it was a beautiful height to dive at. I got me hands on it, did a couple of rolls and got up and I was off. I genuinely did not know what to do so I just ran. If that gate in the corner had been open I would’ve been down at Seven Sisters in seconds. I remember Ray Clemence just clothes-lining me across the throat and I was under a pile of bodies. I looked up and saw Danny Thomas’s face – the biggest thing for me in the penalty shoot-out was the two faces of Danny Thomas. The despair when he missed and the absolute ecstasy just seconds later.

  “I remember the satisfaction on Keith’s face too. Everyone was so happy because if you look at the team that started that second leg you’d have to say, if everyone was fit it probably wouldn’t have started that way. Glenn was out, Ray wasn’t fit, Ossie was on the bench, Steve was suspended – people forget we were missing top, top players. The lads that came in, and I include myself, people like Alistair Dick, Ian Crook, Mark Falco, Micky Hazard . . . there was a really home-grown feel to that side. I look at Tottenham now and they’ve got no home-grown talent – apart from Ledley King. They don’t have that strength in depth.

  “After the match my biggest memory of that night was trying to steal the replica trophy. It’s about a third of the size of the UEFA Cup and the guy gave it to me so I thought it was the man of the match award. We got back in the dressing room and it dawned on me that maybe it wasn’t, but I thought it would look really nice at home, so I put it inside my bag and thought if no one asks I’m going to take it and bring it back another time. When I come out of the shower someone had raided my bag and given the trophy to Irving Scholar who was sitting by the door in his wheelchair – he had a broken leg at the time – and it was on his lap. He’d come in and said, ‘Where’s that replica cup for the boardroom?’ and they’d gone, ‘Parksy had it, check his bag’. A lad from Hackney was going to nick the replica cup,” says Parks, laughing. “I did get presented with a really beautiful man of the match award which for me wasn’t quite right. The two saves stick in the memory, but I certainly didn’t do enough to deserve a man of the match award. For me that night it would’ve been Munaron. We didn’t have one individual that night who was outstanding; it was a really good team effort and we had a real belief.

  “Afterwards we all went upstairs into the West Stand. All our family and friends were there, it was a fantastic night. People were shaking hands and wishing Keith all the best, although he wasn’t leaving immediately – there was a testimonial the following week. We went down to where the old office building was to the fans and managed to say ‘Hello’ to them, then it was back to the party and just, relief. We were in one of the lounges, all the bars were open and we flitted around, we knew people in different bits and we worked our way round. At the time Maurice Hope was the middleweight world champion and he was there. I like my boxing. He came out of one of the lounges and he shook my hand and said, ‘Well done’. I thought, ‘Blimey, Maurice Hope’s shook my hand – that’s awesome.’

  “I left about six the following morning, and I had to be on breakfast telly at seven. The car came to pick me up and I was in no fit state whatsoever. Anne Diamond was absolutely disgusted in me. I remember her giving me the filthiest of looks. In the end they couldn’t do the interview, so they stuck me in the canteen, gave me some breakfast, put me in a car and sent me home.

  “That’s pretty much how the next couple of weeks went. People knew you wherever you went. I remember going to a pub opposite the Blind Beggar in Whitechapel, a place called The Murphyhouse where I knew some people. It was a proper old spit-and-sawdust boozer and I thought, ‘I’ll get away from it a bit in here.’ I walked in and ordered a pint and someone said, ‘I’ll get that’. I looked over and I said, ‘I don’t know you mate, but thanks.’ He said, ‘You’re the lad that saved that penalty the other night. Well done, even though I’m a West Ham supporter.’ I must’ve spent about ten days totally out of it. And why not, you never know when it’ll come round again. Well, for me it didn’t as it turned out. It was great, and then it all went downhill.”

  Parks laughs. But why did his career go into a downward trajectory? What went wrong? “It was too much too early,” he says. “I always thought I played well for Tottenham but I don’t think I handled playing for Tottenham very well. I was a poor pro for a couple of years. Shreevsie took over, rated Clem number one which pissed me off; sitting in stands watching games pissed me off. There was a group of us, probably half a dozen; me, Garry Brooke, Mark Bowen . . . We used to call ourselves the Mushroom Squad, we got into bad habits, felt the world owed us a living. ‘Why are we being so hard done by?’ We’d all massage each others egos and say, ‘Yeah, you should be in the team,’ when the truth was that we didn’t deserve to be anywhere near the team because we weren’t doing our jobs properly. That’s probably where it went – I maybe should’ve left Tottenham a little bit sooner. But then David Pleat came in, I played a few games, went out on loan, then Venners came in and I played the first 16 games but I was never really going to be a Terry Venables man, he never really fancied me as a goalie. It was a sad end really. I left the club in 1987. At the end my contract was up, I didn’t get an offer, they didn’t ask if I wanted to stay – so I went. Steve Perryman was manager at Brentford at the time and that provided an escape for me.

  “I was given every opportunity by Tottenham. The club and the coaches working there never denied me the opportunity to become a success as a player. The only person that did was me. There comes a point, especially now I’m coaching and I can judge the game from both sides, I can look in the mirror and say, ‘You can blame who you want, but it was down to you.’ Tottenham gave me the platform and it was up to me.

  “When I first started coaching I was player-coach at Halifax for three or four years and I remember ringing Steve Perryman up. Me and Steve fell out a bit when he was manager and I was his player because I was such a tit. I then realised what dealing with people like me was all about for managers and coaches. I t
hought, ‘Bloody hell, I must have been a real difficult person to deal with.’ So I made a few phone calls to apologise and Steve was one of them. Steve being the man he is accepted that and we’re back in touch now.”

  Parks has obviously completed a tough personal journey, but facing up to his past has strengthened his enthusiasm for the game. We spend some time discussing the state of English football and English talent, his dismay at the lack of recognition of and support for young goalkeepers in this country, and his satisfaction at being able to make some input. “I get down in the dumps at times, like most jobs,” he says, “but I love the game and I love helping young goalkeepers. I’ve worked with Scott Carson and Joe Hart in their younger days. Tottenham now have a young lad, David Button, who is going to be a fantastic goalie; Middlesbrough and Man United have some good young ‘uns. I hope I’ve helped them in some way.”

  There’s still much of the boyish enthusiasm of the park football player despite the ups and downs of his career, and that genuine love of the game for its own sake shines through when Tony Parks answers the question about his best experience at Spurs. It’s not, surprisingly, the penalty saves in 1984. “My best experience ever playing football was making my debut in a north London derby at Highbury, by a mile,” he says. “My family were Arsenal supporters and I grew up watching football at Highbury, and I loved that stadium. Making my debut in that game; my dad phoning me up saying, ‘I hope you play well but I hope we beat you’, all the little family things. That would’ve been ’83/’84; we got beat 3-2 and Steve Archibald scored our two goals. Charlie Nicholas got their winner. It was an amazing day; red hot; Highbury was packed; the atmosphere was brilliant. There were a few of us young ones playing: Ian Crook, Micky Hazard. I’d always wanted to play in a north London derby – that was my best ever memory of playing for Tottenham.”