Not every long-held tradition is worth preserving

Tottenham Hotspur's new chairman, David Buchler, addressed the Football Writers' Association this week. Even though he was off-the-record when he mentioned Tottenham's 3-2 victory over Manchester United towards the end of last season, I can hardly think he will mind me passing on his impressions.

That match, according to those present, was marked by sustained, widespread chanting of support for the home team. As an expression of commitment it was, in Buchler's view, unprecedented. He liked to think of it as a long exhalation of relief from a group of fans who had sojourned in darkness for a decade and were just discerning the light at the end of their tunnel.

Buchler's interpretation of that afternoon could be dismissed as wishful thinking, but there was no denying his general drift, which was that Tottenham fans – whose numbers do not reflect the team's relative lack of success in recent seasons – expect something other than mere victory. They expect victory in style.

That was the obligation, the tradition, under which George Graham laboured during his largely uncomfortable time at the wrong end of the Seven Sisters Road.

Tottenham's most recent ex-manager could blame his predecessors for nurturing all those wishes over the years – David Pleat, whose team should have won the 1987 FA Cup final; Keith Burkinshaw, the gruff northerner who created the smoothest of Cup blends in the early 80s; Bill Nicholson, whose Double winners of 1961 reached sublime heights; Arthur Rowe, who introduced the innovative push-and-run style which has since been at the heart of Tottenham's game...

But what would have been the use of blaming? The man who made Arsenal one of the most redoubtable teams in British footballing history was never an easy fit at their North London rivals.

What he did manage, however, after his hapless predecessor Christian Gross had been thrown to the lions, was to create a team which provided tantalising glimpses of satisfaction for the supporters. There was something sad about the fervour with which they saluted every false dawn. "At last! They are back to playing the Tottenham way!" But they never really were. For all its flashes of lucidity, the team was infirm.

As Graham has learned to his cost – albeit a cost that looks like being ameliorated by a handsome pay-off – some traditions can look like shackles.

Another footballing tradition was under discussion this week, and in the eyes of one England footballer at least it has the aspect of a linked chain.

Gary Neville's comments on the subject of Wembley stadium have given another tilt to the debate that has rumbled as the administrators have bungled.

While the Government deliberates over the question of whether the Stadium of Dreams should be redeveloped or whether a fresh start should be made by placing a national football stadium somewhere like Birmingham, Manchester United's full-back has voiced an opinion that cuts across the urging of past luminaries such as Sir Geoff Hurst that the Twin Towers, or near equivalent, should be sacrosanct.

How many other England players, I wonder, share Neville's view that it would be no loss if the national team never played at Wembley again?

Having sampled the experience of being cheered by crowds at venues which have not witnessed England matches for half a century, Neville appreciates the freshness and enthusiasm of his new sample audiences – audiences which, moreover, are expressing their enthusiasm at much closer quarters than was possible in the wide open spaces of Wembley.

It seems to be working. Are we seeing a new tradition evolve? Will there be a time when those who espouse Wembley will seem as on the ball as those who still mourn the passing of White City?

While we are on the subject of traditions, there is one which I would like to nominate for destruction, and it concerns the national team once again. How happy I would be were England managers to stop placing at hazard hard-won gains through unsuccessful substitutions late in vital games.

Sir Alf Ramsey's misjudgment in hauling off Bobby Charlton 20 minutes from time in the 1970 World Cup quarter-final against West Germany is now one of the set texts of English football history.

Graham Taylor showed he was not averse to amplifying this tradition by taking off Gary Lineker as his side struggled for a goal in Euro 92, and more recently Kevin Keegan demonstrated an obverse obstinacy by curtailing the involvement of Michael Owen. (Who he?)

Had fortune not favoured England in Wednesday night's World Cup qualifier against Albania, Steve McManaman might have undone in 26 minutes what it had taken his side the best part of 450 to achieve. So please, Mr Eriksson, try not to make any mistakes at all, ever, in future. Thank you.