There must be some out there who remember that magic day when the boys in the England shirts achieved what today has become just a pipe dream. I had 2 season tickets to the all the games and each and everyone of them gave me lifelong memories, but sadly make me ask what has gone so wrong since that heady day. I still have the programme (somewhat tattered) and it is solely in black and white with no photos and the credit on the back gave thanks to Remington typewriters for their assistance. Compared to today's copies that have graphics and all the bells and whistles it looks like something from the dark ages and yet it was an integral part of those magic days that will never be forgotten. How many of you out there have the same distant, but yet vivid, memories of a milestone success that will never be repeated especially when you consider that we the supporters beg for the same success but somebody forgot to pass the message on to the players. The plot has been totally lost along the way and the joke that has become the national team since those days, when coupled with all the other self edification nonsense, makes me wonder if anyone is left to care? Nevertheless I was there and we won and in my self obsessed world that all that matters so a special thank you to those players who on that day gave their all and triumphed. Sounds simple doesn't it and all it took was national pride and self belief, and none of them had access to social media (thank goodness) to warp their minds.
Missed out by 1 year. I was born in 1967. Actually I missed out on loads - the Stones, Beatles, free love - being able to leave a job in the morning and have another by 4pm. Gutted.
remember it well 13 years old, the day after my birthday, and my dad and 3 uncles (my mum and the auntys having gone into town) and several dozen bottles of wadworth 6x, and plates of ham sandwiches, pork pies and and pickled onions gathered round a brand new granada telly, that you had to put tanners into the back of. then the highs and lows of the game itself, and the agony of extra time. then all over to the pub- the old wooden wayfairer, and dad saying for the first tjme, come on son you too. now look back at that game, and you could be forgiven for thinking their playing a different game. no hysteryonics,no diving and falling about, no arguing with the ref. beter days? i dont know but with hindsight they certainly seem so.
I was nearly 16 sat watching on TV with my brother and Dad. Mum was packing the car up for a week in Weymouth. She was mad all day because Dad wouldn't leave till after the game and when it went into extra time she blew her top. As for the game it was touch and go, it could have gone either way, however my abiding memory was to witness my Dad with tears rolling down his cheeks at the final whistle. I didn't understand then, I do now.
I was 11 and not particularly interested until England had actually won the cup!!! I can recall the euphoria surrounding it all and it was that that got me into football and therefore watch my local side. One of my really good mates was a City fan and his dad owned a car, so the three of us used to go to every home game (including reserves) until I reached my mid-teens when a group of us walked down to Ashton Gate from Highridge.
One of my earliest memories was of being frog-marched to the TV by my dad, who pointed at the hysteria and said "watch this son, you'll remember it for the rest of your life" I guess he was right :-(
Makes me feel quite old I was in Dundee on the waterfront supping pints of dark Everyone in the bar wanted England to win I can recall... how football has changed ....
I was 5 and only remember how happy people were afterwards. I didn't watch any of the match to my recollection.
