The Story Of The Blues

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I was waiting in for a text the other day. Joe Hart had received his text to advise he was being left out the England World Cup squad, so surely Gareth Southgate would have been monitoring my form on a Thursday night. The call for Russia would surely come soon. A text duly arrived the following morning. It wasn't the call to Russia, but an offer of a FA Cup Final ticket. Chelsea v Manchester United. A good consolation, I thought.



If anyone cares to read my previous blogs, one could easily get the impression that I am obsessed by football. I am not, but possibly used to have a moderate addiction! I made a serious geographical mistake, when I was a but a young boy. FA Cup Final day was almost a ritual. I would sit in front of the TV all day and it was blanket coverage on all things FA Cup. It’s A Knockout Cup Final Special. Cup Final Question of Sport. In the days before satellite channels, this was one of the few live football matches on the box but to pack it out anything that could vaguely be associated with the "Cup Final" was thrown on to the running order. The 1969 / 1970 season threw together "dirty" Leeds United and Chelsea. Northern effectiveness versus the flamboyance of the Kings Road. I remember that most in my class at school favoured Leeds. I decided to be different. The team from SW6 would be my team. Of course, I had no real concept of where they played, how far away it was and how to get there. It was a 526 mile round trip. I would learn the hard way. A number of years and a thousands of pounds later, the consequences of that decision would hit home. Chelsea and Leeds fought out a draw on a Wembley pitch ploughed up by the Horse of the Year Show and it took a replay at Old Trafford to separate them. The blue corner prevailed. My decision had been vindicated. I wasn't to know that a mere 4 years later, the club was to start a nosedive into possible oblivion that neatly coincided with me getting an opportunity to watch them "live". The world fell apart in May 1975 - well my world did - with relegation and ridicule at the hands of schoolmates. The Ayersome Park Angels had inconveniently lifted themselves out of the shadows, which didn't help. I re-appraised my footballing ambitions. It wasn't grand, but possibly unachievable. I wanted to see Chelsea play in an FA Cup Final and them play in Europe. Today backed by a Russian oligarch it doesn't exactly sound like a tall order, but as the team slumped in the 1980s and couldn't even see off Scarborough in 2 legs of a League Cup tie having regained top flight status I might as well have been ordering a ticket on the next passenger trip to the moon. There was the odd flirtation with Wembley. Liverpool - Kings of Europe - were dispatched in the 1981-82 competition. Mickey Fillery achieved fame (but no fortune) for a few minutes smashing in a 20 yard free kick in the next round, but some bloke called Hoddle ruined the dream after half time. Today the game just goes down as one of Ken's more iconic programme covers, as he launched his attack on the significant minority who had turned up to cause a spot of bother as they did most weeks. I would wait a long, long time to see the dream turned into reality.



Cup Fever finally arrived in 1994. Cup Final day is traditionally warm and sunny, but it wasn't just Manchester United that rained on the parade that day. The heavens opened and so did the Chelsea defence. This wasn't how I had planned the day in my mind. We got hammered 4-0 and it was a sobering experience, even though enough beer was consumed on the day to suggest otherwise. I went to a further three Cup Finals – 1997 (when the Awesome Park crew were dispatched in 42 seconds) , 2000 (the last one at the “old” Wembley) and 2002 (against Arsenal in Cardiff). My record was 2 wins, 2 losses, before I gave up my season ticket and my usual Saturday routine. I am still up for a Cup Final, but it is fair to say that the supply of tickets for the Alan Hood Trophy Final in Hartlepool a couple of weeks ago didn’t outstrip demand.



I woke early. The sun was shining. It was proper Cup Final weather. I put my shorts on and headed for the railway station. The kick off was scheduled for the non-traditional 1715 hours, as had been the case in the last few years. The usual demands of TV win over the requirements of the average fan who needs to get home. There was another distraction today. The Young Royal had fixed his wedding to the actress for noon, so both needed to be accommodated in the schedules. The nuptials were fortunately in Windsor, but it had still meant further demand on available train tickets to and from the capital. After an uneventful trip, I rolled into St Pancras bang on schedule at 1114 am. A text alert advised that the beer was flowing in Leicester Square. In a little over 15 minutes, I was in the round. Central London was getting into the Royal wedding spirit. Shop windows were decorated with bunting. One shop had enterprisingly added a window vinyl of Harry leaving a space beside him and was offering wedding props to pose for the photo. A cunning way to increase interest and footfall on a slow retail sales day, when most were otherwise occupied. Spoons even had a Windsor & Eton Brewery offering called Harry & Meghan. It was surprisingly good. The live coverage was on the big screen, but we settled for the sunshine outside. After more than just a couple of refreshments, we moved on to Wembley.



The “new” Wembley Stadium is not so new anymore. Construction goes on a pace nearby, restricting the views of the arch that replaced the twin towers of old. The entry process was calm and reasonably efficient, but the skills of modern stadium design still hasn’t found a way to accommodate how half a crowd can relieve themselves at half time. The decision not to have another pint was paying off. The atmosphere was rather sterile. The respective sets of fans had seen all this before. It was a case of been there, done that! The magic of yesteryear was sadly missing. The Final was being billed as a tribute to Butch Wilkins, who sadly passed away earlier this year. He had played for both clubs, but is probably best remembered by me as the young talisman captain who led the team back from the brink in the mid 1970s. I can still see him strutting around in midfield in the last match of the 1975 / 76 season, baffling the York City players with his range of passing. The game today itself was a best a disappointment, but I said to myself that nobody cares in 10 years’ time when they look back. They only remember the result. At least half of the 87, 647 will still look through rose coloured spectacles and recall a good afternoon. Eden Hazard ran the show and the penalty was the ultimate show of cool under pressure. United huffed and puffed, but never pushed home a tremendous advantage of possession. The Special One” had been watching a different game come the post-match analysis. Conte smiled. He knew very probably that his days are numbered and a return ticket to Italy had already been reserved in his name. The players celebrated. It would possibly be for some, their last moments in the blue shirt. A World Cup shop window to follow will no doubt see some seek greener and more lucrative pastures. Meanwhile, the Russian oligarch was elsewhere. It turned out that the Foreign Office had been a bit slow renewing his all singing, all dancing visa. I headed down the stand to try and get some better photographs of the trophy presentation. I was pleased there had been no extra time and penalties, which meant I had plenty of time to get my return train. It still took me nearly 1 ½ hours to get back into the centre.



It had been a long, but satisfying day. It could never create the excitement for me of yesteryear, but it was good to make another appearance and see some of the old faces.





I am still waiting for the call from Gareth Southgate. Next tournament, maybe!

Appendix 1

F A Cup Final


Chelsea 1 Manchester United 0

Date : Saturday 19 May 2018 @ 1715 Hours

Venue : Wembley Stadium, London

Attendance : 87,647

Scorers : 1-0 Hazard Pen 22 Min (Chelsea)



Chelsea: Courtois, Azpillicueta, Cahill, Rudiger, Moses, Fabregas, Kante, Bakayoko, Alonso, Hazard, Giroud Subs Used: Morata & Willian

Manchester United: De Gea, Valencia, Smalling, Jones, Young, Herrara, Matic, Pogba, Lingard, Rashford, Sanchez Subs Used: Mata, Lukaku & Martial

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Comments

[Dancing Dave]

Chelsea v Man U
I used to watch the Premier League Highlights religiously until they changed to Optus a couple of years ago and the sheen seemed to wear off in its coverage. I used to stay up for FA Cup Finals in Oz until putting on the boots and shorts was too cold without a blanket. But the best game I attended was Chelsea v Man U in a backyard pub in Tanzania where a Maasai warriour hugged me each time Man U score and a Chelsea fan feigned hanging himself from the overhead fan. But to be at Wembley for a Cup Final...win or lose...worth goose flesh freezing legs to do that. Great blog.