There was this period of time in my life — a phase that wasn’t a phase, as such, but how life would remain. The bomber jacket, the Reebok Classic, the Creative Zen MP3 player, the worshipping Sol Campbell phase.

For those of you young enough to know him only as a song we shouldn’t sing and a rather strange football pundit-slash-politician-slash-commentator on café workers, the betrayal is deep. Deeper than this FA Cup memory. Perhaps one day I will tackle this; but, for now, know that at one stage in my life, he was a Dele Alli/Ledley King/Harry Kane/Gareth Bale rolled into one. Campbell was one of our own when Kane was just one of a million single-celled swimmers.

The nineties for Spurs was a desolate wasteland of no-marks, has-beens and never-should-have-beens. Therefore, when someone like David Ginola or a home-grown player like Campbell bursts up through the mire, you take notice. His physique meant he played everywhere, his ability meant that he could and he even managed a goal on his debut. He was a bit of everything and he was ours.

The early part of his career saw him deployed in a variety of roles; from target man, to left-back, to holding midfielder. But it was at centre-back where he was truly at home. I remember him taking to the field during Euro 96 and, despite being an Italy fan, I couldn’t help but beam with pride as a Tottenham-heavy team did something that hadn’t been done in six years: unite a country.

Ginola may have been the oil painting, but Campbell was the nail it hung upon

However, it was during that Euro cameo at Wembley that it became clear that his future was at centre-back. Campbell, despite his talents, just wasn’t nimble or technical enough to play in midfield at the highest level. However, at centre-back he was a graceful colossus. It was in this role that he became our captain and leader. Ginola may have been the oil painting, but Campbell was the nail it hung upon. As our leader he guided us to the 1999 League Cup and became the first black captain to lift a major trophy under the Twin Towers. The nineties were shambolic, but they had a bright spot here and there.

After the joy of watching us lift the Worthington Cup, it seemed as if the George Graham reign would bring another day of glory. The FA Cup of 1999 may forever be known as ‘the Giggs FA Cup’, after his solo effort vs Woolwich in the other semi, but for me it’s the memory of Sol’s handball.

In a tough game against a Ruud Guillt-led Newcastle, neither team mustered up the skill or class to break the deadlock. The game was heading for a replay until — inexplicably — a looped ball over the top was met by the hand of Campbell. It was a stupid, careless and rash mistake; the more you see it, the more confusing his reaction was. The ball was nothing more than a scoop and hope, but it presented Alan Shearer the ball from 12 yards and ended our hopes for a cup double.

In-between an FA Cup final and Spurs was Ian Walker, a man who had never recovered his mojo after Gianfranco Zola beat him at his near post at Wembley. The keeper waited for the penalty, lost in his light blue and orange Pony kit. It was obvious it was never going to end with a Tony Park- style celebration. Instead, Walker did a Peter Shilton and dived so early and so slowly that he was still mid-air when Shearer thumped home the killer goal in the last minute of extra time. It was a painful end to a cup run that had promised so much, but for our failure to fall at the hands of one of our better players made the defeat harder to take.

It was Campbell’s last ever moment as a Spurs player, he was subbed off for King. From then on we had Ledley, not Sol at the back

Spurs finished the 90s in mediocrity, going out of the UEFA Cup in the second round, finishing tenth and continuing a habit of losing FA Cup semi-finals that continues to this day.

The noughties started with Spurs in rather better shape; we may still have had the mediocrity across the park, but movement was afoot. Daniel Levy, who had hair back then, was at the helm, and with him came the departure of George Graham, a decision that upset few.

There was also a gentleman rising through the ranks. A player who, had he been Italian, would’ve been labelled “un predestinato,” a player destined for greatness. Ledley King, who had actually been on the bench for the Newcastle semi, was months — half a season at most — from forming a centre-back pairing that very few teams in the world would have been able to match.

Campbell, at this stage, was an England regular; a standout performer at the 1998 World Cup, a future England captain and Spurs legend. And waiting to partner him was King. It would have been a defensive duo with everything: power and subtlety, aggression and poise, speed and vision. It would’ve been glorious. Looking back and speaking to those that remember the days, it was like not being able to field Chris Waddle, Paul Gascoigne and Gary Lineker all at the same time. Spurs were always a month or two away from the big prizes.

Today Campbell is remembered only by those that despise him, that is what hurts him and that today is where I take some small amount of pleasure from

With Graham gone, Levy installed Spurs legend Glenn Hoddle and, in his first game, we faced Woolwich in Campbell’s third FA Cup semi-final loss (the first was Everton in 1995 [he was injured]) at the club. To be honest we had little hope — even the ‘new manager bounce’ couldn’t help us. We took the lead through Gary Doherty flicking in Steffen Iversen’s wayward volley, but the game was never under our control. We were fortunate to take the lead, we were fortunate looking back to only lose 2-1.

However, it isn’t the manner of the defeat that makes it continue to resonate but the moment Campbell, who had been a doubt to start with, overstretched for the ball. While he was receiving medical attention, Patrick Viera headed home the equaliser. It was Campbell’s last ever moment as a Spurs player, he was subbed off for King. From then on we had Ledley, not Sol at the back.

That summer he did what he did and he ruined everything he achieved. He should’ve been a legend; he was a cup winning captain, something we’ve been in short supply of. He was an England regular and one who would star at the 2002 World Cup and win a lot of stuff with them lot. He should have been our hero. He should be receiving the same kind of demigod worship that King receives. We would have held him to our chests and given him the love and respect he craves. They don’t love him, they have others to build statues of and sing about. Today, Campbell is remembered only by those that despise him. That is what hurts him and from that I take some small amount of pleasure. I digress.

The FA Cup is back this Saturday and, as it always does, it brings with it the glory and the darkness in equal measure. What does Saturday have for us?