olliec
Well-Known Member
- Jun 20, 2012
- 3,605
- 11,833
The fact he did a video as well where as most players just write something. That felt from the heart.
Harry Kane
- Thread starter RichSpur58
- Start date
KingKay
Well-Known Member
- Apr 16, 2004
- 7,283
- 19,141
Well …
southlondonyiddo
My eyes have seen some of the glory..
- Nov 8, 2004
- 12,656
- 15,222
Harry Kane in the general football chat
dear oh dear Spurs
dear oh dear Spurs
Personally I don’t think it deflects. It draws attention to the fact Harry no longer wanted to remain at the club which most people hold Levy directly responsible for.
Anyway I think people would have been unhappy with whatever statement the club released. If all the club released was something wishing Harry the best of luck I’m sure there would have been fans saying stuff like is that all Levy has to say for himself after selling our best player?
hutchiniho
Top Cat
- Mar 19, 2006
- 4,711
- 5,966
My daughter is 6, similar feelings. We’ve been saying Harry’s gone on holiday to Germany.
Very happy we were able to get to the Shakhtar game last weekend, for her first game and to see Harry play, score.
I do hope when he comes back to England, it’s to Tottenham and Levy hasn’t burned that bridge.
The Apprentice
Charles Big Potatoes
- Mar 10, 2005
- 11,147
- 15,648
Just an overriding feeling of sadness today. A grown man and I had a lump in my throat watching his leaving video earlier.
Forget whether or not it is the right move or the fee is right. The sad fact is if we’d matched his ambition over the last five years, he wouldn’t be leaving.
Thanks for the memories H. We’ve been blessed to watch you strut your stuff for so long.
Forget whether or not it is the right move or the fee is right. The sad fact is if we’d matched his ambition over the last five years, he wouldn’t be leaving.
Thanks for the memories H. We’ve been blessed to watch you strut your stuff for so long.
PLTuck
Eternal Optimist
- Aug 22, 2006
- 15,999
- 33,351
Farewell then Harry Kane, our one-season wonder who just didn’t stop scoring | John Crace
It’s a goodbye that has been coming – the truth is he had outgrown Spurs some seasons ago
www.theguardian.com
dagraham
Well-Known Member
- Sep 20, 2005
- 19,149
- 46,142
Fyp.
For the love of Spurs
Well-Known Member
- Mar 28, 2015
- 3,453
- 11,282
Kane in the general football rather than Spurs really make it sink in.
wrd
Well-Known Member
- Aug 22, 2014
- 13,603
- 58,005
This sums up the last few days for me 
Just feel like people want to move past this painful moment as quickly as possible, onto the next season onwards and upwards etc but I fear what then happens is we just repeat the cycle again, then in a few months or next summer, the anger begins again, people argue because they don't keep account of what happened before. Personally feel like if we really delved into the frustration and understood it rather than run away from it, we'd give ourselves more sway as a fanbase but I understand that's not how others see it.
Just feel like people want to move past this painful moment as quickly as possible, onto the next season onwards and upwards etc but I fear what then happens is we just repeat the cycle again, then in a few months or next summer, the anger begins again, people argue because they don't keep account of what happened before. Personally feel like if we really delved into the frustration and understood it rather than run away from it, we'd give ourselves more sway as a fanbase but I understand that's not how others see it.
Maybe I'm just used to this or am not as emotionally invested anymore, but i don't feel anything about it really.
I don't care if he succeeds or fails. Although it would be nice to see him knock out an English club in Europe.
I'm not one for looking back. Players come and go. It wasn't that long ago we never thought we'd see a player like Bale again...
I don't care if he succeeds or fails. Although it would be nice to see him knock out an English club in Europe.
I'm not one for looking back. Players come and go. It wasn't that long ago we never thought we'd see a player like Bale again...
Bosher
Just here for the meltdowns
- Jul 28, 2013
- 194
- 1,377
He did ask Charlie to write something to release, sweating profusely, Charlie managed to convince him to do a video instead.
I doubt they would want to loan him back to us within a couple of years, Tuchel or no Tuchel. Harry will probably score goals for fun in the Bundesliga. Can’t see why they would want to send him out on loan?
wrd
Well-Known Member
- Aug 22, 2014
- 13,603
- 58,005
Trouble is, without looking back we are having the same conversations as we had when Bale left. Our club looks completely different but the root discussion is the same, I hope I'm wrong but I fear we will be having this conversation again once the next Kane emerges and departs.
Would recommend you all to read the article I've translated in the attached spoiler. Renowned and decorated swedish journalist, and lifelong Spurs supporter Erik Niva, has put pen to paper about his feelings today. I happen to share them, and I think many of you do as well.
Harry Kane didn't give me any titles.
But he gave me almost ten years of heartfelt, intense supporter feelings, just when I thought they were about to disappear.
No trophy ever have been worth more.
The summer I entered my teenage years, I took down the last poster of a player from the wall in my boyhood room.
The goal machine Gary Lineker had left Tottenham, and of course it was a bit upsetting.
Lineker had been my first and biggest football idol. I was seven years old when I first saw him score in the FA Cup final and then win the goalscoring league in the Mexico World Cup.
The fact that I fell for Tottenham while Lineker went from Everton to Barcelona mattered less at the time. During the second half of the 1980s, I had a favorite team and a favorite player on parallel tracks. In an eight-year-old's head there was no problem with that equation, but just as the boy idol thing was about to fade away, Gary Lineker suddenly signed for Tottenham.
My own football universe coalesced, and for a couple of seasons the stars continued to align. Tottenham beat Arsenal at Wembley to win the FA Cup, Gary Lineker scored the goals.
But then it ended.
Moved to London and got a season ticket
It was the same summer that the English first division was rebranded and became the Premier League. My hero moved from North London, but even though it was of course heartbreaking, it still felt quite okay. Gary Lineker was going to wind down in the Japanese Nagoya Grampus Eight, and I myself was really past that childhood phase where I hung up posters on forwards.
After all, football was about the collective, not the individual – about the club, not the players. All those things that are obvious components of a supporter's life.
I pried loose the staples with my nails, took the poster down from the wall and closed the part of my football life where the name on the back had been almost as important as the crest on the front.
A couple of decades went by, and football fundamentally changed. First came the Bosman verdict, then the oligarchs and sheikhs.
For myself, I moved to London, got a season ticket at White Hart Lane and then moved back home.
The relationship with both football and the club inevitably and inexorably changed. It was definitely not the case that I was done with Tottenham - I probably never will be - but ten years ago I definitely was struggling with emotions and love.
After all, I had gone through adolescence, turned into some sort of adult and also worked with this shit - the football industry. It was not possible to trick oneself no more.
On a rational level, I could no longer justify the commitment. I knew very well what voraciously greedy sporting industries the big Premier League clubs had turned into and I was worn down by a football that revolved around attracting the most unscrupulous investor.
For a few years, Tottenham had indeed been whipped forward by a furious Gareth Bale, but now he was sold in accordance with the program like reality, to Real Madrid and replaced by seven more or less hopeless everything-in-one-pot players from all corners of the world.
As 2013 drew to a close, it was like nothing was left. There were faceless owners, a home stadium that was going to be demolished, Tim Sherwood on the sidelines, Emmanuel Adebayor at the top and objectively impossible to discern any of what I really value about a football club; identity, tradition, local anchoring and affinity between the stands and the field.
Then came Harry Kane
I still cared, but I cared in a different way. Frustration and disillusionment grew, trips from Sweden to White Hart Lane steadily became fewer.
This time there was no poster to symbolically take down from the wall, but the fear was that a similar shift was approaching in my life.
Through all the years, Tottenham had always been the sun around which my entire footballing world revolved. Now that magnetic pull was fading, and I really didn't know where to go with it. Gradually everything just felt darker and colder and more difficult to navigate.
And just then Harry arrived.
In fact, it's pretty easy to pinpoint when it all started, because it obviously was Sunday, November 2, 2014.
It was when Tottenham began the Mauricio Pochettino era in earnest, but it was above all when we were thrown headlong into the Harry Kane era. It was up at Villa Park that both player, team and club definitely changed course.
With ten minutes remaining, Aston Villa led the game, Spurs were in 15th place in the table and Mauricio Pochettino risked getting sacked. Harry Kane had started on the bench as usual, but as a substitute he hit a free-kick in the 90th minute that touched an opponent, was directed into a goal, gave three points, new oxygen and new life.
The following weekend, Kane got to start a Premier League game for the first time under Mauricio Pochettino, and the breakthrough thereafter was avalanche-like. From mid-december and three months onwards, he scored 17 goals in 15 Premier League matches.
Born was the King of White Hart Lane.
Of course, the old arena had seen both skilled players and hard-hitting teams many times before, but this time it was still different.
Even during the good times, I personally had to wrestle a bit with Tottenham's very soul and DNA. I had become a supporter long before I understood such things, but rather than building from below and developing my own, Spurs had always been the club of the spectacular new acquisitions.
Saw it myself 2015
In all my years we'd really only had one homegrown player to be proud of, and that was the perpetually injured limousine of a centre-back Ledley King.
Out of nowhere we now had half a team, a whole team. Mauricio Pochettino saw things that others did not, created something that no one could dream of. Football that you could feel for, feel with. No big names, no expensive signings - but hunger, drive, heart and Harry Kane at the very front.
He was both named and acted as the fictional character, a comic book character. From a slightly chubby and condemned youth player, he had overnight turned himself into one of the world's very best center forwards. A lad from the local area, a Tottenham supporter from a Tottenham family who now took the whole club in hand and led it to places we had never been before.
One of our own.
I myself was 35 when Harry Kane hit - increasingly cynical and resentful - but I suppose the truest thing to write is that I fell in love anew.
The first time I saw him play with my own eyes was on January 28, 2015. On a snowy evening at Bramall Lane in Sheffield, he led us to the League Cup Final, celebrating the draw with a Wembley flag below our short side.
Less than two weeks later I was back in England, when there was a derby in North London. Harry Kane scored twice, settling with a majestic header in the 86th.
In my head, of course, every single reservation existed about modern English top-flight football in general and Tottenham Hotspur Ltd in particular. It was just that the body no longer listened at all.
Harry Kane had arrived. The Hurricane had overturned everything.
Just when I thought I was on my way out, he dragged me back in. Completely without reason, reasonableness and warning, my most stormy, most memorable and most valuable time with Tottenham began.
Never before had I been as emotionally invested in the Spurs as I have been in the last decade. Not when I was 11 years old with Gary Lineker posters on my wall, not when I was 18 and invested post-grad freedom in a move to London - but when I entered middle age and really loathed much of what the club had come to stand for the scenes.
All has certainly not been positive about it, especially not for a natural pessimist used to having his fears fulfilled and multiplied by football.
It's no longer sustainable to be a father of two over 40 who wakes up on Sunday with his head full of fear about what might happen against Crystal Palace at home. During Champions League Spring 2019, there were moments when I seriously feared I was losing control of my own body, when a single inward Dortmund corner could send me chattering my teeth into some sort of frenzy.
Still, of course, I wouldn't trade it for anything.
Football's most magical component will always be how it makes you feel things you can't quite explain, more strongly than you can ever justify.
Finally, it all culminated in that Champions League final in Madrid, and a morally wrong penalty after 24 seconds. Half of our team consisted of more or less self-raised players who have been with us all the way; Rose, Winks, Alli, Dier and a three-quarter injured Harry Kane who was nowhere near being able to do himself justice.
Zero titles? Thousands of moments
Right then and there, I knew it would be the most defining day of my football life, the night that meant I would forever have to deal with unrelieved, nagging phantomly pain.
In theory, Tottenham is a big enough club to win the Champions League, Premier League or any damn Super League in the future - but we won't be able to do that with a team built from the ground up, without hedge funds or petro money.
And we will never do that with Harry Kane. We will never win anything at all with Harry Kane.
Thanks, I know.
Nevertheless, my own summation of the time with him is completely different from the one that others try to force on me.
In total, it was a historic 280 goals for Harry Kane at Tottenham. Goals against Barcelona, against Juventus, against FC Bayern. Winning goal in the fifth minute of stoppage time away to Manchester City, winning goal at Old Trafford, equalizing goal in the 96th at Stamford Bridge.
A total of 14 derby goals against Arsenal - more than anyone else - and if you don't understand the value of that, you're reading the wrong text.
No other footballer has given me as many moments of instant euphoria and heartfelt happiness as Harry Kane, no one has ever meant as much to me.
You say zero titles? I say thousands of moments.
Football has no memory, it is sometimes said.
To a large extent it is true, because football always goes on, always forward. New players break through, new heroes emerge. No player is ever going to be bigger than the club, and the Spurs go marching on.
So also this time.
Tottenham will win games this season too, and if you move forward a year or so in time, I'm convinced that the vast majority of people will feel about the same things about the club then as they did yesterday.
I'm just not so sure it will apply to myself.
For such a long time, Harry Kane has functioned as a kind of magic lamp for me. Rubbing myself against him has been enough to cast a spellbound shimmer around Tottenham, to make me see the club in a forgiving light.
Now I have to once again come to terms with the harsh reality.
Nothing will be the same again
There are streaks of light there too. Our new coach seems like a sane man in a crazy business, and I've really come to appreciate the blue-yellow hue that Dejan Kulusevski has given the club. The lovely Heung-min Son also plays on for another season, as a last remnant from the Champions League final.
But after that it's hard.
Our starting eleven this season will contain exactly zero homegrown players and exactly zero players suited to captain the team. We stand there with our soon-to-be-imprisoned tax fugitive for a owner, our huge event arena and our 100 pound tickets.
Modern football, nowadays without any romantic old-fashioned figurehead as a disguise.
Everyone has their own relationship with their football and their clubs - what is valid for me is not valid for others - but over time I have at least found it easier to sort things out in my own head.
For me, the measure of successful football is not how many titles are won, but how much football touches, how much it engages.
Harry Kane gave me faith, hope, pride and belonging. He gave me almost ten years of heartfelt, intense feelings, just when I thought they were about to disappear.
No trophy could ever have been worth more. And I fear that nothing will ever be the same again.
But he gave me almost ten years of heartfelt, intense supporter feelings, just when I thought they were about to disappear.
No trophy ever have been worth more.
The summer I entered my teenage years, I took down the last poster of a player from the wall in my boyhood room.
The goal machine Gary Lineker had left Tottenham, and of course it was a bit upsetting.
Lineker had been my first and biggest football idol. I was seven years old when I first saw him score in the FA Cup final and then win the goalscoring league in the Mexico World Cup.
The fact that I fell for Tottenham while Lineker went from Everton to Barcelona mattered less at the time. During the second half of the 1980s, I had a favorite team and a favorite player on parallel tracks. In an eight-year-old's head there was no problem with that equation, but just as the boy idol thing was about to fade away, Gary Lineker suddenly signed for Tottenham.
My own football universe coalesced, and for a couple of seasons the stars continued to align. Tottenham beat Arsenal at Wembley to win the FA Cup, Gary Lineker scored the goals.
But then it ended.
Moved to London and got a season ticket
It was the same summer that the English first division was rebranded and became the Premier League. My hero moved from North London, but even though it was of course heartbreaking, it still felt quite okay. Gary Lineker was going to wind down in the Japanese Nagoya Grampus Eight, and I myself was really past that childhood phase where I hung up posters on forwards.
After all, football was about the collective, not the individual – about the club, not the players. All those things that are obvious components of a supporter's life.
I pried loose the staples with my nails, took the poster down from the wall and closed the part of my football life where the name on the back had been almost as important as the crest on the front.
A couple of decades went by, and football fundamentally changed. First came the Bosman verdict, then the oligarchs and sheikhs.
For myself, I moved to London, got a season ticket at White Hart Lane and then moved back home.
The relationship with both football and the club inevitably and inexorably changed. It was definitely not the case that I was done with Tottenham - I probably never will be - but ten years ago I definitely was struggling with emotions and love.
After all, I had gone through adolescence, turned into some sort of adult and also worked with this shit - the football industry. It was not possible to trick oneself no more.
On a rational level, I could no longer justify the commitment. I knew very well what voraciously greedy sporting industries the big Premier League clubs had turned into and I was worn down by a football that revolved around attracting the most unscrupulous investor.
For a few years, Tottenham had indeed been whipped forward by a furious Gareth Bale, but now he was sold in accordance with the program like reality, to Real Madrid and replaced by seven more or less hopeless everything-in-one-pot players from all corners of the world.
As 2013 drew to a close, it was like nothing was left. There were faceless owners, a home stadium that was going to be demolished, Tim Sherwood on the sidelines, Emmanuel Adebayor at the top and objectively impossible to discern any of what I really value about a football club; identity, tradition, local anchoring and affinity between the stands and the field.
Then came Harry Kane
I still cared, but I cared in a different way. Frustration and disillusionment grew, trips from Sweden to White Hart Lane steadily became fewer.
This time there was no poster to symbolically take down from the wall, but the fear was that a similar shift was approaching in my life.
Through all the years, Tottenham had always been the sun around which my entire footballing world revolved. Now that magnetic pull was fading, and I really didn't know where to go with it. Gradually everything just felt darker and colder and more difficult to navigate.
And just then Harry arrived.
In fact, it's pretty easy to pinpoint when it all started, because it obviously was Sunday, November 2, 2014.
It was when Tottenham began the Mauricio Pochettino era in earnest, but it was above all when we were thrown headlong into the Harry Kane era. It was up at Villa Park that both player, team and club definitely changed course.
With ten minutes remaining, Aston Villa led the game, Spurs were in 15th place in the table and Mauricio Pochettino risked getting sacked. Harry Kane had started on the bench as usual, but as a substitute he hit a free-kick in the 90th minute that touched an opponent, was directed into a goal, gave three points, new oxygen and new life.
The following weekend, Kane got to start a Premier League game for the first time under Mauricio Pochettino, and the breakthrough thereafter was avalanche-like. From mid-december and three months onwards, he scored 17 goals in 15 Premier League matches.
Born was the King of White Hart Lane.
Of course, the old arena had seen both skilled players and hard-hitting teams many times before, but this time it was still different.
Even during the good times, I personally had to wrestle a bit with Tottenham's very soul and DNA. I had become a supporter long before I understood such things, but rather than building from below and developing my own, Spurs had always been the club of the spectacular new acquisitions.
Saw it myself 2015
In all my years we'd really only had one homegrown player to be proud of, and that was the perpetually injured limousine of a centre-back Ledley King.
Out of nowhere we now had half a team, a whole team. Mauricio Pochettino saw things that others did not, created something that no one could dream of. Football that you could feel for, feel with. No big names, no expensive signings - but hunger, drive, heart and Harry Kane at the very front.
He was both named and acted as the fictional character, a comic book character. From a slightly chubby and condemned youth player, he had overnight turned himself into one of the world's very best center forwards. A lad from the local area, a Tottenham supporter from a Tottenham family who now took the whole club in hand and led it to places we had never been before.
One of our own.
I myself was 35 when Harry Kane hit - increasingly cynical and resentful - but I suppose the truest thing to write is that I fell in love anew.
The first time I saw him play with my own eyes was on January 28, 2015. On a snowy evening at Bramall Lane in Sheffield, he led us to the League Cup Final, celebrating the draw with a Wembley flag below our short side.
Less than two weeks later I was back in England, when there was a derby in North London. Harry Kane scored twice, settling with a majestic header in the 86th.
In my head, of course, every single reservation existed about modern English top-flight football in general and Tottenham Hotspur Ltd in particular. It was just that the body no longer listened at all.
Harry Kane had arrived. The Hurricane had overturned everything.
Just when I thought I was on my way out, he dragged me back in. Completely without reason, reasonableness and warning, my most stormy, most memorable and most valuable time with Tottenham began.
Never before had I been as emotionally invested in the Spurs as I have been in the last decade. Not when I was 11 years old with Gary Lineker posters on my wall, not when I was 18 and invested post-grad freedom in a move to London - but when I entered middle age and really loathed much of what the club had come to stand for the scenes.
All has certainly not been positive about it, especially not for a natural pessimist used to having his fears fulfilled and multiplied by football.
It's no longer sustainable to be a father of two over 40 who wakes up on Sunday with his head full of fear about what might happen against Crystal Palace at home. During Champions League Spring 2019, there were moments when I seriously feared I was losing control of my own body, when a single inward Dortmund corner could send me chattering my teeth into some sort of frenzy.
Still, of course, I wouldn't trade it for anything.
Football's most magical component will always be how it makes you feel things you can't quite explain, more strongly than you can ever justify.
Finally, it all culminated in that Champions League final in Madrid, and a morally wrong penalty after 24 seconds. Half of our team consisted of more or less self-raised players who have been with us all the way; Rose, Winks, Alli, Dier and a three-quarter injured Harry Kane who was nowhere near being able to do himself justice.
Zero titles? Thousands of moments
Right then and there, I knew it would be the most defining day of my football life, the night that meant I would forever have to deal with unrelieved, nagging phantomly pain.
In theory, Tottenham is a big enough club to win the Champions League, Premier League or any damn Super League in the future - but we won't be able to do that with a team built from the ground up, without hedge funds or petro money.
And we will never do that with Harry Kane. We will never win anything at all with Harry Kane.
Thanks, I know.
Nevertheless, my own summation of the time with him is completely different from the one that others try to force on me.
In total, it was a historic 280 goals for Harry Kane at Tottenham. Goals against Barcelona, against Juventus, against FC Bayern. Winning goal in the fifth minute of stoppage time away to Manchester City, winning goal at Old Trafford, equalizing goal in the 96th at Stamford Bridge.
A total of 14 derby goals against Arsenal - more than anyone else - and if you don't understand the value of that, you're reading the wrong text.
No other footballer has given me as many moments of instant euphoria and heartfelt happiness as Harry Kane, no one has ever meant as much to me.
You say zero titles? I say thousands of moments.
Football has no memory, it is sometimes said.
To a large extent it is true, because football always goes on, always forward. New players break through, new heroes emerge. No player is ever going to be bigger than the club, and the Spurs go marching on.
So also this time.
Tottenham will win games this season too, and if you move forward a year or so in time, I'm convinced that the vast majority of people will feel about the same things about the club then as they did yesterday.
I'm just not so sure it will apply to myself.
For such a long time, Harry Kane has functioned as a kind of magic lamp for me. Rubbing myself against him has been enough to cast a spellbound shimmer around Tottenham, to make me see the club in a forgiving light.
Now I have to once again come to terms with the harsh reality.
Nothing will be the same again
There are streaks of light there too. Our new coach seems like a sane man in a crazy business, and I've really come to appreciate the blue-yellow hue that Dejan Kulusevski has given the club. The lovely Heung-min Son also plays on for another season, as a last remnant from the Champions League final.
But after that it's hard.
Our starting eleven this season will contain exactly zero homegrown players and exactly zero players suited to captain the team. We stand there with our soon-to-be-imprisoned tax fugitive for a owner, our huge event arena and our 100 pound tickets.
Modern football, nowadays without any romantic old-fashioned figurehead as a disguise.
Everyone has their own relationship with their football and their clubs - what is valid for me is not valid for others - but over time I have at least found it easier to sort things out in my own head.
For me, the measure of successful football is not how many titles are won, but how much football touches, how much it engages.
Harry Kane gave me faith, hope, pride and belonging. He gave me almost ten years of heartfelt, intense feelings, just when I thought they were about to disappear.
No trophy could ever have been worth more. And I fear that nothing will ever be the same again.
Last edited:
isaac94
Well-Known Member
- Jan 5, 2017
- 2,940
- 9,780
ibra done ok at man utd, lewa still doing great at his age, reality is players last longer now with better diets and technology
jolsnogross
Well-Known Member
- May 17, 2005
- 3,807
- 5,611
I'm starting to feel that way about Spurs. Bit of a pointless club as days like today underline. Hopefully Ange can turn us around, but he might just be the latest patsy.
