Tottenham Hotspur: I Have a Dream

By Daniel Hewson
August 14 2003

I Have a Dream. I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration of love for a football club in the history of our nation.

Author: Daniel Hewson

I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration of love for a football club in the history of our nation.

More than 100 years ago, a football club was formed. A football club destined to become a pioneer of the sport in our beloved country. A team who not only set records and achieved heights that others could only hope to emulate, but did it with a style and flair that became their trademark and that other teams could only look upon with envy. That team was Tottenham Hotspur FC.

But more than one hundred years later, this football club has fallen on troubled times; more than one hundred years later, Tottenham Hotspur finds itself languishing in mid table obscurity; more than one hundred years later, Tottenham Hotspur finds itself longing to win a trophy it hasn't won in 42 years; one hundred years later, more than one hundred years later, Tottenham Hotspur finds itself without having won an FA Cup for a dozen years; more than one hundred years later, Tottenham Hotspur football club finds itself in trouble, staring straight into the face of adversity.

So I've come here today to dramatize a shameful condition. In a sense I've come to this board to cash a check. When the architects of our club wrote the magnificent words of our crest, they were signing a promissory note to which every Tottenham player, manager and director was to fall heir. This note was the promise that all fans, yes, Tottenham fans as well as Arsenal fans, would be guaranteed the sight of Tottenham lifting trophies on a regular basis, the Tottenham players and fans in the pursuit of happiness, and the gooners in a life of eternal anguish.

It is obvious today that successive Tottenham managers and directors have defaulted on this promissory note in so far as fans are concerned. Instead of honouring this sacred obligation, Tottenham Hotspur Football Club has given the fans a bad check ; a check which has come back marked "insufficient funds." We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this football club.

And so I've come to this hallowed message board to remind Tottenham's board of directors of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of yesteryear; now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of premiership mediocrity to the sunlit path of trophy winning; now is the time to lift our club from the quicksands of relegation battles and third round exits to the solid rock of consistency and toughness; now is the time to make winning matches regularly a reality for all Tottenham's fans. It would be fatal for the club to overlook the urgency of the movement. This sweltering summer of the Spurs fan's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of success and vitality within the club we cherish.

Nineteen sixty-one should not have been an end, but a beginning. And those who hope that the Spurs fan merely needed to blow off steam and will now be content, will have a rude awakening if the club returns to business as usual.

There will be neither rest nor tranquillity in Tottenham High Road until the fans are granted their demands. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our club until the bright day of premiership success emerges.

But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds such as playing without the style and flair which is our trademark and birthright.

Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for success by drinking from the cup of offside traps and long ball football. We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of pace, style and discipline. We must not allow our creative play to degenerate into physical battles on the pitch. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with pure passing force.

And as we return to our natural place in the football world, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of Keith Burkinshaw, "When will you be satisfied?: We can never be satisfied as long as Tottenham Hotspur is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of premiership and European failure.

We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their selfhood and robbed of their inheritance by supporting Manchester United, Liverpool or, heaven forbid, Arsenal. We cannot be satisfied as long as a Spurs fan in Manchester cannot hold his head up high and declare publicly his love of the club. No, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.

Go back to East London; go back to Chelmsford; go back to Newmarket; go back to the slums and ghettos of the northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can, and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair.

So I say to you, my friends, that even though we must face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the footballing dream that one day this club will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creation - we hold these truths to be self-evident, that not all football clubs are created equal.

I have a dream that one day on the green grass of the millenium stadium, sons of former greats and other Spurs players will be able to do a lap of honour together at the table of brotherhood with us, the fans.

I have a dream that one day, even at the other end of the Seven Sisters Road, an area gloating with the march of its own club, dismissing Tottenham Hotspur with a sarcastic gesture, attitudes will be transformed into an oasis of respect and awe of our great club. I have a dream my two children will one day support a club that will not be judged by who they have beaten but by the content of their character and how they have beaten them. I have a dream today!

I have a dream that next week, Birmingham will be smited. Every Birmingham fan, man and woman, shall be made quiet, and Tottenham shall be looked upon with respect once more. And we shall all see the glory that is Tottenham Hotspur Football Club together.

This is my hope. This is the faith that I go back to the new season with.

With this faith we will be able to overcome the mountain of despair with a glimmer of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our football into a beautiful symphony of passing beauty.

With this faith we will be able to work together, to sing together, to go to games together, knowing that we will be champions one day. This will be the day when all of Tottenham's diehard fans will be able to sing with new meaning "Glory, Glory, Hallelujah" from every stand at White Hart Lane and every away stand at every club in the premiership. And if Tottenham returns to the greatness of its past, this must become true.

Let Tottenham win a trophy this season.
Let us qualify for Europe once more.
Let the treatment room be devoid of action until next May.
Let Glenn Hoddle become the leader we all want him to be.
But not only that.
Let "Glory, Glory Hallelujah" ring out from the four corners of the world.
Let Tottenham once again become annual challengers for the title.
Let Blondel, Acimovic, Zamora, Postiga, Keane, Gardner, King and, yes, even Bunjy, become the players that they can be.

And when this finally happens, when we hear our anthem ring out in every village and hamlet, from every county and city, we will be able to speed up that day when all Tottenham fans- young and old, Jews and Gentiles, Catholics and Protestants - will be able to join hands and to sing "We bleedin'told you so!"

Nice one, Cyril

Copyright Daniel Hewson
13/08/2003