Twenty-five years at White Hart Lane

There was never any doubt that I would grow up a Spurs fan. When my dad moved to London from India in the 50’s he fell in love with two things: the Beatles and Tottenham Hotspur.

He grew up in the 60’s idolising Jimmy Greaves so it didn’t come as a surprise when he named me Adam James.

After 30 years of following the club all over the world, with relative success, he took me to my first game on 4 April 1992. We lost 5-2 Aston Villa at White Hart Lane.

This is where he says it started to go wrong.

Not a great introduction to football but I was hooked and have never looked back.

I don’t think anyone can appreciate the buzz you get from 36,000 fans singing in unison until they actually get to witness it.

Despite not witnessing the same glory as my dad did growing up, I still had my heroes.

I still have a photo with Jürgen Klinsmann on my mum’s mantle piece and my signed Ginola shirt in my room.

Watching them play at the Lane were some of my happiest early memories.

Bale tearing apart Inter Milan in the Champions League, Defoe scoring five against Wigan and Klinsmann with his bicycle kick against Everton.

It’s amazing to see that my Dad still has that same buzz after over 50 years.

When I was barmitzvah in 1999 I only made one request to my parents: that the party would be at White Hart Lane.

My Dad always says to me: we go to our first place of worship on a Saturday morning and our second in the afternoon.

It just felt right – except for when one guest turned up in an Arsenal shirt!

Tottenham has long been associated with Jewish fans.

This is a club which sells bagels by the lorry load on match days – apart from Pesach, when the non-Jewish fans find that the queues vanish, and the stands fill up with matzah sandwiches.

Earlier in the season I even spotted the Chief Rabbi at a mid-week game – my Dad’s friend shouted out to him, “you won’t have any trouble getting a minyan here”.

25 years on from my first game at the Lane, today I went to my last.

Finishing the season unbeaten at home (although the other side of North London will say is nothing to boast about) was a great way to sign off.

As I walked away at the end of the game I took one last look at the place which has made my dad and I so close.

I look forward to the next 30 years of memories with him at the new place.

Follow Adam on Twitter: @Adamsolomon1