Martin Chivers dies at 80

 Martin Chivers dies at 80

The death of Spurs legend Martin Chivers at 80, reminds us once again of a golden generation of footballers who never put a foot wrong quite literally. Chivers simply never broke football's moral code of conduct and behaved with  an exemplary politeness and kindness towards those who were struggling to make their way in the game. In several words, he was one of Spurs greatest strikers and, rather like his Spurs predecessor up front Jimmy Greaves, Chivers could scare the life out of terrified, trembling and trepidatious defenders.

There was something of the nobleman about Chivers that somehow smacked of good, old fashioned chivalry from another age. There was nothing false or conceited about Martin Chivers because Big Chiv, as he was affectionately known, always knew where the goal was and his very stature in the game was there to be admired. Chivers had presence, style and sheer class on all occasions. He was as tall and imposing as a lighthouse, towering over his Spurs colleagues with the air of a lieutenant colonel in the military and yet he was very much a team man, an integral cog in the Spurs machinery. 

Football loves to honour its finest ambassadors, acutely aware though of its fragility and vulnerability when one of its veterans passes away and the history books tell their own story. Martin Chivers, bought to Spurs by one of their most highly esteemed managers, Bill Nicholson, took a while to settle into the groove but once released into the concrete jungle of the old First Division, Chivers became the master of his craft. 

Signed from Southampton whose manager Ted Bates must have deeply regretted his decision to let Chivers go to Spurs, Chivers soon established himself as an awkward, menacing, baleful, lethal striker or centre forward as they used to be called. He began to score goals in huge quantities for Spurs and was so prolific that opposing defenders must have been shivering with fear every time they came up against him. 

Chivers had all the necessary qualities to fit the striker stereotype. He had a broad shouldered but controlled aggression, a muscular physicality that was commendable and then developed a reputation for goal scoring that was quite astonishing. His heading, aerial ability was second to none, flawless in its execution and refined to perfection over the years. Big Chiv had a strength, formidable power and a complete mastery over defenders who dared to tread near him. 

Spurs were never genuine contenders for the old First Division League Championship but Chivers was fearless, courageous as they came, rising for crosses like the proverbial salmon and sending headed bullets that bulged the back of the net in no time at all. The centres  from Jimmy Neighbour or Cyril Knowles on a marauding overlap from his customary full back position, came in the most abundant supply and Chivers ruled the roost at White Hart Lane.

In two consecutive years, Spurs won two consecutive League Cup Final winning two consecutive medals at Wembley against both Aston Villa and Norwich. In 1971, Chivers was imperative to Spurs UEFA Cup Final victory against Wolves but that was very much the sum total of his achievements. Alongside the graceful Martin Peters, the permanently authoritative Ralph Coates and the ever effervescent Steve Perryman, Chivers also found a kindred spirit in the delightful Alan Gilzean, a gliding cruiser of an attacker who knew instinctively what was going through Chivers mind. 

And then England honours arrived for the man from Southampton. Chivers was always a persistent nuisance up front when Sir Alf Ramsey needed somebody he could rely on to ruffle feathers. The Spurs striker featured crucially in vital World Cup matches. But the one game that came to haunt him was probably the 1973 World Cup qualifier where England unravelled like a ball of cotton wool. The visitors to Wembley that fateful night were Poland and Chivers just happened to find himself in the line of fire. 

Both Tony Currie, Mick Channon, Alan Clarke laboured desperately to find the goal that would have sent England to the World Cup Finals of 1974 which would be hosted by West Germany. The kitchen sink and various canteens of cutlery were thrown at Poland that now distant October evening. But they were never going to be enough to break down the obstinacy and stern intransigence of a Polish defence that refused to buckle and Chivers simply accepted his fate with a dignified graciousness that was most typical and becoming of the man. 

When Chivers left Spurs to join Swiss club FC Servette, he was very much the elder statesman but still as fresh and young at heart as would always be the case. He would presumably learn French and spoke with an eloquence that would endear him to both his team mates and the club. Now into his late 30s, Chivers would retire and embark on the familiar after dinner circuit like a man born to it. He was charitable to a number of good causes and immensely likeable, admired and highly regarded by everybody and just oozing the kind of modesty and humility that was always in evidence. 

And so it is that we bid fond farewell to a man who belonged to a time when football's entertainment value could never be questioned. Martin Chivers will always have a place in the hearts of all of those critical but discerning Spurs supporters who paid good money to see this gentle giant. Martin Chivers we salute your memory and the old White Hart Lane will never forget you. Thankyou sir.