As Harry Kane closes in on the Tottenham Hotspur goalscoring record held by the late, great Jimmy Greaves, I find myself reassessing what is and isn’t possible in this dramatically changing world of ours.
I witnessed the first and last of Greavsie’s 266 goals for Spurs and was convinced that he had created a club record that would never be challenged, let alone beaten.
Jim and I were close buddies for 64 years and combined on 20 books together, so Harry has to break through a barrier of bias. You need to be at least in your mid-sixties to have seen Greaves at the peak of his powers. Spurs fans get upset when I say that he was at his best with Chelsea, unhindered by coaching and playing everything off the cuff with the sweet innocence of youth. He scored the little matter of 132 goals in 169 games for them, then another nine in a brief sojourn with AC Milan before starting his Spurs collection with a blistering hat-trick against Blackpool in 1961.
When I had the privilege of delivering the eulogy for Jim at his funeral in October 2021, I claimed that he was “Messi, with bells on”. I made the point that watching the Argentine maestro was like an action replay of Jimmy at his best. The way that Lionel Messi runs at defences, the way he changes pace and direction, and above all the way he finishes — passing the ball into the net — is pure Greavsie.
The close control is identical, the sudden acceleration, the ability to shoot with either foot, the same low centre of gravity and perfect balance. It’s all a flashback for me to our Jim, who scored a record 357 goals in the old First Division. Messi has been even more prolific, but he never had to cope with physical interruptions from brutal defenders such as Ron “Chopper” Harris and Norman “Bites Yer Legs” Hunter, who were allowed and encouraged to tackle from behind, now thankfully outlawed. And could Messi have done it on the mudheap pitches on which Jimmy’s generation played?
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Now along comes the modern scoring machine Kane, and he stands only two goals off equalling Greavsie’s club record for Spurs as they prepare to face Portsmouth today in the FA Cup third round at the Tottenham Hotspur Stadium.
He got within shooting distance of the record by scoring twice against Crystal Palace on Wednesday, to move to 264 goals. It has taken him 411 matches, compared with the 379 of Greaves in an era when defences were far less disciplined than in today’s relatively sanitised game. I was aware earlier than most that Harry was a bit special. A wing of my East End family remains Millwall supporters and a cousin rang back in 2012 to ask: “Have Spurs gone mad, letting us have this kid Harry Kane on loan? He’s better than anything you’ve got at Tottenham.”
I kept an eye on Kane’s progress, and — thanks largely to television — I have not missed one of his performances since he exploded on to the Premier League stage with Spurs in 2014. Kane was born in the same Whipps Cross, Leytonstone hospital as one of his heroes, David Beckham (the cricketer Graham Gooch was also born in the same maternity ward two generations earlier, a trio of future England captains). Jim’s birthplace in Manor Park on February 20, 1940, was only a 20-minute drive away around the North Circular. Take a bow, East London.
Comparing Harry with Jimmy is like measuring a battleship with a cruiser. Greavsie, a smidgeon over 5ft 7in and 10st 8lb wet through, was all subtlety and style, tip-toeing through defences and selling more dummies than Mothercare before passing the ball into the net.
Harry, on nodding terms with 6ft 2in and a solid 15 stone, is a powerhouse who likes to make the net bulge. Both are two-footed, Harry favouring the right, Jimmy the left. Jimmy wanted an aspirin after heading any of his goals with old leather balls that were not water resistant, while Harry rarely gets beaten in aerial challenges.
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You can only compare them on goalscoring output, and both have been masters at finding
the net.
Jimmy will always be the greatest of British marksmen in my biased eyes, but now along comes Kane who is proving more than able at this goalscoring lark.
With my Tottenham hat on, I admire them both. The verdict: a draw.
● The One and Only Jimmy Greaves by Norman Giller is available at www.normangillerbooks.com
