If you were on your death bed ...

A lot of fantastic memories on here such as the 73 cup final run which would be my choice or Chelsea away 2nd leg milk cup semi scary night at times but a one that sticks in my memory was the play off defeat to Charlton in 98 when we had been through every emotion possible. I was at this one with my family and my son who had been going from a very young age but was now 13 and after the penalty shoot out he was crying. I knew then Safc had him forever and I turned to him and said “son you’ll get used to it “. He said I wish you’d never taken me to my first game. He still goes now with my 13 yr old grandson and says the same at least once a season. . It’s in the blood.

 

Soon as we arrived in Chelsea, first thing we saw...seat thrown thrown thru Chelsea pub window Here we go!!!

 

I’ve never been as quiet after a game trying to get back to the bus safely. Poisonous atmosphere before during and after the game.

 

I'll post my favourite story of that night later, it's a cracker.

 

My favourite was when the coppa's on the pitch took 2 Chelsea players out of the game and we scored!!

 

On a night of total, and unimaginable these days, insanity this was probably the most insane. Whether people believe me or not isn't important, it's all true and a memory I'll treasure.

The fighting before, during and after the game plus the huge pitch invasion, the crazy football, the thousands locked out, etc was all surreal as has been said. It's the only time I've ever pushed into a Sunderland queue because I just sensed they'd close the gates.

But the thing that stands out, individually, would be beyond belief to anyone who didn't live through away days like this.

The atmosphere in the ground was poisonous and we could see fighting in the stand on our right plus disorder in the distant Shed End. There was a section of Chelsea to our right with a high fence keeping everyone apart. Chelsea had brought a selection of missiles which were landing on us forcing the 'decent people' away and leaving the lads closest. There was no police presence so the Chelsea lot were right up against the fence trying to hit people with pool balls, lumps of metal, stones, etc. Any of our lot, who got too close, were in danger of being spat on, grabbed, punched, etc ... it was horrific.

Enough was enough and we started rocking the crash barriers to bring up bits of concrete around the bases. When enough had been collected a 'concrete Agincourt' was unleashed and Chelsea backed off. It didn't last long and they came back with more missiles, bottles of piss etc. During all this we were singing our heads off, cheering goals, watching fights break out, etc.

I spotted a big lump of concrete that had been ignored as being too big to launch and unbreakable. I picked it up and got myself into the 'discuss stance' I'd learned at school but I was struggling to push people away so I could start my run up. Then, like the voice of God coming down through a gap in the clouds, a booming noise bellowed out of a big old Sunderland fella, "For hell's sake, give the lad some bloody room!"

A massive gap appeared around me and I started my approach building up into a spin before launching the huge lump of concrete into the Stamford Bridge sky. Time stood still and everything went deathly quiet except the gasp of the Sunderland section. The Chelsea hooligans spotted it, as the floodlights illuminated it, and stood like rabbits in headlights.

All of a sudden a charge of manslaughter popped into my head as I realised that, if it was a direct hit on someone, they'd almost certainly be killed outright. As it spun through the air our whole section held its breath ............

....... then it smashed into the top of the iron barrier between the two sets of fans and exploded over the Chelsea section. A massive cheer went up and I was backslapped until I could barely breathe. The Chelsea section went completely silent and not another thing was thrown.

Now, to modern spectators, that might all sound appalling and they'd be right ...

... but I was proud of myself, on the night, and sure my Reiver ancestors would be smiling down.

The lads I was with often remind me of that night and we laugh about it now ...

... but, as @Whittylad said, it was a night when you were glad to make it back home.

 

Great story, I reckon all of us that night had a great tale to tell. I've never been so pleased to get back to a coach park in all my life and get the help out if there.

 

We just jumped on the first moving coach and stood up until we got to the services ...

... then we found a coach with seats prepared to drop us off at Trowell services.

Even though we'd won the coach was very quiet. People had been attacked before and after the game simply for supporting their team.

Yet people these days don't believe we should still harbour grudges ...

... **** them.