I’ll never forget my first game at White Hart Lane. As I walked to the stadium, my hand in my father’s, I could feel the crowd swelling around me, the language as colourful as the sea of flags swimming in the air. This was a world detached from everyday reality. The environment was electric. Adrenaline coursed through my veins. I was terrified and exhilarated at the same time.
When I reached the stands, I saw my heroes for the first time in the flesh. As a young boy, watching Tottenham play was a chance to see myself in something that I could never find in TV or books. Garth Crooks, a young black English centre-forward, played alongside Argentinian players Ossie Ardiles and Ricardo Villa. My parents came to the UK from Guyana, a black-majority country on the South American coast; this was representation like nothing I’d experienced before.
