Being a Gooner, I learned from a very early age that you simply had to hate Spurs. This was not up for debate. If you loved Arsenal you hated that lot. That's it.
Not coming from North London myself (an Essex boy, born and bred) I perhaps did not really understand the hatred and the history behind it all but none of that mattered. You did not have a choice.
Of course I now understand why they hate us so much. The fact we moved from Woolwich into their territory and then took their place in the old First Division when the league was increased in size after WW1.
The fact that we then went on to become the biggest and most successful side in the country in the 1930's must have hurt them. Over the years we have become everything they have always dreamed of being but never managed to achieve.
Trophies. League titles. We have even won the title on their own pitch, not once but twice. Yes, it is no wonder they hate us so much.
What I never quite understood was why we hated them just as much. I always saw them as an irritation that can simply be brushed aside with the minimum of fuss. A source of amusement, something to be ridiculed and laughed at, not hated.
But the first NLD I attended, at Highbury in April 1982, changed all that. At that time Spurs were on their way to retaining the FA Cup with a great side that included the likes of Hoddle, Ardiles and Hazard.
We, on the other hand, were in transition after the break up of the team that had reached three consecutive FA Cup finals at the turn of the decade. We had John Hawley up front for God's sake!!
I was only 12 at the time and this was my first season attending matches. I had been to every home game since Christmas, and an away game at West Ham, but nothing had prepared me for what I was about to witness. Football violence was at it's peak and to see all this hatred spewing from every pore was not something that sat well with me.
I don't remember too much about the game as I spent the whole time fearing for my safety. In short it kicked off big time. I do know it ended in a 3-1 defeat (Hawley scored our goal amazingly enough) but I had long since stopped caring and just wanted to go home.
But that experience changed me. After that day I never wanted to see us lose to them again. But it wasn't the club I hated so much as the fans.
Later that year I attended a Spurs against West Ham match. As I explained in an early blog my sister was a Hammers fan and her new boyfriend, for his sins, was Spurs. He made the mistake of taking us both to this particular match.
Before the game we were in a chippy on Tottenham High Road when a few Spurs fans started giving my sister some stick as she had a West Ham scarf on. Not the wisest move, granted, but she was with her Spurs supporting boyfriend and he was a hard bastard so we felt safe.
But the next thing we know one of the lads had punched my sister square in the face and it all kicked off. Her boyfriend was there in his Spurs shirt, fighting fellow Spurs fans in the street. And this sadly, sums them up.
On the bus on the way home a group of about six Spurs fans, all big guys, dragged a lone West Ham fan, who looked about 16, off the street onto the bus and proceeded to kick ten barrels out of him before dumping him at the next stop.
A few years later, after we had beaten them 2-0 at Highbury (Wrighty and Campbell), I was rabbit punched in the back of the head by a Spurs fan behind the Clock End. Of course he soon regretted it as he under estimated the sanity of the mate I was with who soon had him running off up the street with his (badly bruised) tail between his legs.
But I digress. After that inauspicious start, the following season we beat them 2-0 at Highbury over Christmas (Sunderland and Woodcock) which was very satisfying. No hint of trouble that day and a lovely three points. And by the time of the away game the following Easter we were preparing for an FA Cup semi final meeting with Manchester United the following week. This will be great, I thought, as I made my first walk up Tottenham High Road from Seven Sisters Road Station to the ground. Little did I know...
Walking up the stairs onto the away terrace for the first time, the thing that struck me was the towering Shelf Stand to my right. Intimidating. The atmosphere was electric of course but also very hostile.
Fast forward a few years and I would find myself on that very terrace with around 200 other Arsenal fans watching Seaman continually deny Lineker in a 0-0 draw. A goal for either side that day would have led to murders, quite literally, so thanks Dave as your heroics in that match probably saved my life.
But back to that first visit and it proved to be one of my worst days following The Arsenal. For those of a younger generation who can only recall us lording it over them or a succession of closely fought matches will not believe what unfolded that day. The final score: Spurs 5 Arsenal 0. And we lost the semi final a week later as well...
Thankfully that proved to be a rare bad day for us against them. But despite all that this is still a game I don't really enjoy. I want to win every time of course and losing to them is just not an option, especially at home. But the pressure involved takes away the enjoyment and even a win is often not enough. Unless we win 5-0 I will never completely get over from that day in 1983.
All this has taken on even more significance in recent years as they have had the audacity to become a decent team. It has been a real drag watching them finish above us but the laughs as they fall at the final hurdle again and again has kept our sanity in what has been difficult times.
But the power shift they have been banging on about, a power shift that has seen them win absolutely nothing and us three FA Cups, is about to come to an end. They are about to discover as we did in 2006, that losing a Champions League final and moving into a new stadium is the beginning of the end.
They have peaked and are about to start the inevitable decline while we are slowly finding our mojo again. A meeting at Emirates this weekend, where they have only won once in 14 visits, is almost to be relished. Almost.
As poor as they were last week against Newcastle, as good as our home record is against them, we can never take anything for granted when it comes to the NLD. There is no point even trying to predict the score as form goes out of the window. I just hope that come 6.30pm on Sunday we are the ones celebrating...
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