I made my Spurs debut before Harry Kane but I had no idea what ‘mentality’ meant. He did

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Cameron Lancaster played up front with Harry Kane for Tottenham’s academy from the age of 11 and made his Premier League debut before him. But his career in England was derailed by serious injuries. He retired earlier this year after spending a decade scoring goals in the U.S.

It was my first day at Tottenham Hotspur and this annoying kid was taking the p*** out of me.

He kept asking my name. I said, “Cameron Lancaster”. He said, “What?” I said, “Cameron Lancaster”. He said, “What?” I said, “Cameron Lancaster”. He said, “Are you a parrot?”

Another boy came over and said, “Shut up, George”.

Aged 11, I was a shy lad who had just come on trial at Spurs from my local Sunday league team and I didn’t want to be in the spotlight, so for someone to stick up for me at that moment meant a lot and I had instant respect for them.

That someone was Harry Kane.

I was in the same age group at Spurs as Harry and also played in the same position. Well, I say that but Harry played in midfield at times and there was even talk about him playing as a centre-back. Typically, though, it would be 4-4-2 with the two of us up top. We scored goals for fun.

Profile-wise, I was quicker, stronger and more powerful than Harry, who had issues with his size and weight when he was younger. He was underdeveloped physically and not the shining light that he was at an older age. Where I struggled, though, was with the mentality side, and that’s where Harry excelled.

I had other things outside of football that distracted me. I didn’t want to be in my digs in Chigwell the whole time. I wanted to go out with my friends, and I wanted to enjoy life. I didn’t necessarily get my enjoyment from the game and from training. That wasn’t it for me.

Alex Inglethorpe, who was my under-18 coach at Spurs, took me to the side one day and said, “Look, if you want to be a professional footballer, you have to eat, breathe, sleep, football. You have to be absolutely addicted to it.” I walked away thinking, “S***, I’m not going to be a professional footballer because I’m not like that.”

But Harry was like that. Harry would eat, breathe, sleep football, and he didn’t worry what anyone else thought.

I say that because with kids at that age, especially athletes, it can get a little bit toxic at times. For example, with Harry there was always the chatter of, “This busy guy, why’s he doing extra?”

I never felt any ill-will towards Harry for putting in that additional work, and that’s partly because of my first interaction when I arrived on trial. But it’s also because I always thought Harry was just being Harry — trying to be the best that he could be.

I remember when we had our body fat measured, and Harry, myself and another lad were on the higher side. I looked at Harry’s plate the following day and it was boiled chicken, tomatoes and cucumbers. The next thing you know he’s boxing in the gym to burn extra calories off.

Harry was obsessive — obsessed with his body composition, obsessed with his fitness, obsessed with his finishing, and that’s why he was so far ahead of everyone in our age group.

One day we had a shooting session with John McDermott, who is now technical director with the English FA, and everyone was leathering the hell out of the ball. John stopped the exercise and said, “Just whip it, like a firm pass, with precision.”

Harry would always be focusing on that kind of finish after training — striking it between the side of your foot and your laces. It’s an art, that.

I also remember Les Ferdinand, who was a coach at Spurs, saying, “Keep everything low and the keeper’s not gonna get there.” And if you look at how Harry finishes, rarely is anything above waist height.

Tim Sherwood and Chris Ramsey, two of the coaching staff, called me into their office during that time and said, “Here’s you, and here’s Harry”, and went through a list of categories.

“Finishing, who’s better?”

“About the same.”

“Speed, who’s faster?”

“Me.”

“Who’s stronger?”

“Me.”

“Who’s better at heading?”

“About the same.”

And then they talked about mentality and said, “Why is he up here and why are you down there?”

In truth, I had no idea what the word mentality meant back then. But I had talent, and I was still doing well enough to be in and around the first team at Spurs, and that led to me playing in the Premier League at the age of 19.

Tim Sherwood came up to me after one of the first-team strikers picked up an injury and said, “Someone might have just handed you your debut.” I said, “What are you talking about?” He said, “You’re gonna be on the bench later.”

I looked down at my boots and they were these crusty black Adidas F50s that I’d been wearing for the past year. I thought, “I can’t make my debut in these.” So I went to Sports Direct to buy a new pair.

The game was against Wigan Athletic at White Hart Lane. We were leading 3-1 with 15 minutes remaining when the manager Harry Redknapp gave me the signal to get ready. Emmanuel Adebayor came off, gave me a high five, and there was a massive cheer from the crowd when I ran on. For a split second — probably three seconds, actually — I thought, “Where the hell am I?!”

Looking back, it’s a great achievement to go from playing for the under-12s to representing the first team. Not many players get the chance to appear on that stage.

Harry congratulated me on making my debut when he returned from being on loan at Millwall. It didn’t cross my mind that I played for Spurs in the Premier League before him. I didn’t really have that competitive mindset, and there was never any animosity between the two of us, even though we were both strikers.

I remember playing reserve games together and in the warm-up it was a competition to see who could do the best knuckleball free-kick. But it was never a competition to be “better than you”.

In fact, the season before I made my debut for Spurs, Harry was on loan at Leyton Orient and I was at Dagenham & Redbridge, and we came up against each other in a League One game. Harry was starting and I was on the bench. As strange as this sounds, I wanted Harry to do well.

In the summer of 2012, after making my debut and signing a two-year contract, I felt a million dollars. But in a training game in pre-season I took a shot at Hugo Lloris and felt a pop in my groin. I had to walk off. Tim Sherwood was on the sidelines and said: “What are you doing? Get back on, this is your chance.” But that groin injury was a nightmare — it kept me out for a year.

At one stage Harry did a bit of rehabilitation with me, after breaking a metatarsal while on loan at Norwich City. He then spent the second half of the season on loan at Leicester City.

Not long after that I remember the two of us being on the exercise bikes one day and chatting about the future. Harry was asking about me, and I asked what he saw himself doing in the season ahead. He said he had been looking at the first team and thought he could get Clint Dempsey’s place. Dempsey was a United States international.

I was looking at Harry and thinking: “You’re deluded. You just had a failed loan spell in the Championship with Leicester and now you’re talking about taking Clint Dempsey’s place in the first-team squad?” But that was Harry’s mentality and the confidence that he had.

Harry went on to make nearly 20 first-team appearances for Spurs that season. The following season he finished as the second-highest goalscorer in the Premier League and played and scored for England too. Despite all the doubters — and there were plenty of them, even within Spurs — Harry had made it at the highest level.

His success hasn’t surprised me one bit. You see it throughout sport — Tom Brady wasn’t the quickest, wasn’t the most athletic, but he’s got that elite mentality, and Harry is on that same kind of level. He set his mind to do something and accomplished it. You can’t be jealous of that. You can only respect it. I feel proud to be associated with him and the fact that someone from our age group at Spurs has gone on to achieve so much.

As for my time at the club, that came to an end in 2014. After returning from the groin problem, I remember screaming in agony after getting clattered playing in an under-23 game away at Fulham. It was my anterior cruciate ligament.

After trials in the United States with Orlando and Chicago, and a brief spell back home with Stevenage Borough in League Two, I had an opportunity to go to Louisville City. They were playing in the United States League, effectively the third tier of football in the country, and wanted me to go on trial. I remember thinking, “I was playing in the Premier League two and a half years ago. What’s going on in my life?”

It was a bitter pill to swallow at the time, but the reality is that it was my last shot at trying to rebuild my career after injury. Thankfully, it worked. I retired from professional football a couple of months ago, after making 253 appearances and scoring 107 goals.

I can’t lie, there was a time during my playing days when I used to look at Harry and think, “That could have been me.” But, if I’m honest with myself, I can see why Harry has had the career that he’s had and why I’ve been on a different journey.

That said, I wouldn’t change what I’ve got now for the world. I’ve spent the best part of 11-12 years in the United States, I have a beautiful daughter and I’m happy and content.

It’s been a long time since I’ve seen or even spoken to Harry — probably going back to when we were on the exercise bikes next to one another at Spurs.

As the World Cup is taking place here, I thought about going along to watch him play for England — the only problem is that tickets cost an arm and a leg.

Still, I’m sure England will have a training facility somewhere nearby. Maybe I’ll just roll up there one day and say, “Alright, H. How’s it going?”