About the Book
When John White was killed by a bolt of lightning in 1964, the football world was rocked by the tragedy. White was just 27 years of age.
Nicknamed The Ghost for the way that he could drift into space undetected, White played inside-forward for the great double-winning Tottenham Hotspur side of the early sixties. British football was entering a golden period and Bill Nicholsons free-flowing Spurs side was right at the forefront. White himself was on the cusp of greatness. Appearing alongside giants of the game like Dave Mackay and Danny Blanchflower, hed already lifted the European Cup Winners Cup for Spurs (the first European trophy won by any British side) and gained 22 caps for Scotland.
White was the archetypal footballer, but he was also a devoted family man. Six months before he died, his beloved wife Sandra gave birth to their second child, a son called Rob.
Rob White never knew his father. The man who was known by hundreds of thousands of football fans across the country was a complete stranger to him. The Ghost is the result of interviews with his fathers teammates, followers and family members. Within these pages Rob White and Julie Welch have built up a portrait, not only of a brilliant and gifted young man but, also, of a lost era.
THE GHOST
In Search of My Father the Football Legend
Rob White and Julie Welch
This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the authors and publishers rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
Version 1.0
Epub ISBN 9781407092294
www.randomhouse.co.uk
Published by Yellow Jersey Press 2011
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Copyright Rob White and Julie Welch 2011
Rob White and Julie Welch have asserted their right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the authors of this work
July July (Meloy)
Music Of Stage Three/Osterozhna Music (BMI) (c/o BMG Rights Management (US) LLC)
We are grateful to the following for permission to use these images: John White training with Dave Mackay and Jimmy Greaves (TopFoto); John White with Danny Blanchflower and Cliff Jones; Spurs celebrate winning the league, 1961; Spurs 19601 team with trophies; Spurs open-top bus parade, 1963 (all Getty Images); John White scores against Rangers, 1962; John White and Maurice Norman with FA Cup, 1962 (both Press Association). John White outside White Hart Lane is reproduced from Charles Buchans Football Monthly with kind permission from Football Monthly Ltd. Football Monthly Ltd 020 8444 9428 www.footballmonthlyarchives.co.uk Every effort has been made to trace or contact all copyright holders, and the publishers will be pleased to correct any omissions brought to their notice at the earliest opportunity.
First published in Great Britain in 2011 by
Yellow Jersey Press
Random House, 20 Vauxhall Bridge Road,
London SW1V 2SA
www.rbooks.co.uk
Addresses for companies within The Random House Group Limited
can be found at: www.randomhouse.co.uk/offices.htm
The Random House Group Limited Reg. No. 954009
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
Contents
For Elsie and Martha
About the Authors
Julie Welch is the critically lauded author of Those Glory, Glory Days, 26.2: Running the London Marathon and Out On Your Feet: The World of Hundred-mile Walking.
Rob White is a professional photographer. The Ghost of White Hart Lane is his first book.
Acknowledgements
SO MANY PEOPLE contributed their memories of John White that it would be invidious to list them here; most, in any case, are named in the book. Special thanks, though, are due to Cliff Jones for his time and enthusiasm, and to the White clan Eddie and Nan, Janette and Alec Ramsey in Scotland, and Tom in Blackpool for their kindness and hospitality. The authors are also grateful to Norman Giller, author and publisher of The Golden Double, for putting them in touch with Jimmy Greaves, and to Matt Phillips at Yellow Jersey, for his insightful editing.
Thanks, too, to Andy Porter, Spurs historian, for the loan of precious books, notably Julian Hollands The Double. Spurs and their players have been the subject of numerous works of football literature, many of which are quoted in the following pages. One not mentioned in the text but which provided a valuable source of inspiration is The Soccer Syndrome, by John Moynihan, with its marvellous evocation of the night in 1963 that Spurs beat Slovan Bratislava at White Hart Lane.
Julie Welch would also like to record her gratitude for the work of the late Pat Kavanagh, who encouraged her to develop The Ghost for publication and was still devoting time on its behalf in the weeks before her death in October 2008.
1
Ghost Hunt
Rob, 1972
WHAT IF HE appears?
Balanced precariously on a cross-beam, I sit back on my heels. My heart is lurching and I have almost stopped breathing as the familiar feeling of hope and longing gets its elbow round my windpipe.
What if my being here somehow summons him up?
Why not? This loft is a dark, spooky place just where youd expect to find a ghost.
And I wallow for a moment in the fantasy Ive always cherished, the one in which my dad simply walks through the door one day and explains that hes never been dead at all. It was a misunderstanding caused by some bizarre misidentification. The press got it wrong. He was nowhere near the golf course that day.
Thats mad. I am eight years old, far too old to believe in Father Christmas and the tooth fairy and ghosts. Anyway, if he did appear, how would he get in? He wouldnt walk into a loft. Not unless he came through the skylight.
I return to what I was originally doing, grubbing around for a cardboard box. It is, I should add, not just any cardboard box. I suspect, rather than know conclusively, that it exists. I believe that after being entombed for years at the back of my nans wardrobe it has found its way to the attic of our new house. My conjecture is that it contains the cuttings, medals, caps, documents and letters that are the nearest Im going to get to my dad.
A cloud of dust floats around everything, smothering the already weak light into a series of dim, ineffectual haloes. Junk is piled randomly on top of other junk. I have no idea where to start looking. Its like trying to find your way around a city in the aftermath of an earthquake.
I could use a bit of help here. A sign from heaven that Im getting warm. A shaft of light from the dusty pane beamed directly onto what Im looking for.
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