Heroes & Villains, the Aston Villa fanzine
Heroes & Villains => Villa Memories => Topic started by: Chico Hamilton III on March 27, 2019, 08:42:24 AM
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What a great day - quarter of a century ago
"where's yer treble gone....."
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25 years. Holy mackerel. What a day that was.
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An absolutely surreal day in my Villa supporting life:
a) We won it against the odds.
b) We met the team and BFR with the cup on Wembley's coach park after the game.
c) I was moved to confidently predict that Graham Fenton was the future for England's midfield for the following decade!
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What a great day. I couldn't sleep the night before so i stayed up all night drinking the contents of my parents drinks cabinet and then walked (staggered) down the road and bought several Sunday papers. One of our travelling party attempted to physically eject a Brummie Red covered in scarfs, flags and badges from our coach until his two sons restrained him. To be fair to the Brummie Red he was clearly what my mum used to refer to as 'a bit special' in the head. Near to Wembley we were stopped and asked by a French film crew what we thought of Eric Cantona. I doubt our response was ever broadcast! Having topped up from the night before I was still drunk enough to think it was funny to give Karen Brady dogs abuse as she tried to get into the ground (at the second attempt as she went to the wrong entrance at first so I got two rounds of heckles in). As for the game I was sitting very near to Cyrille Regis and I had to apologise for punching the guy in front of me in the back of the neck when United were looking to make it 2-2 towards the end of the game. A cross was swung in for Mark Hughes to head in and Bosnich had to come out and punch it clear and I was so wrapped up in the game I made the same action.
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I organised the tickets for this and left the travel arrangements to someone else. His idea of a 'luxury coach' was actually one of a fleet of WMT double decker buses which we had to have a whip round to park at Wembley. Our seats were very low down level with the edge of the penalty area so had a decent view of Dalian Atkinson's goal. I've said elsewhere before that my most vivid memory of the day is Neil Cox turning to us on the final whistle and letting out an ear-piercing primal scream of delight. Outside the ground a 15ish year old Man Utd fan ran up to us, weakly smacked me in the chest and ran off for no other reason than presumably frustration. The other thing that stays with me about that day is the back page headline of Today the following day which read 'Dreamwreckers' as if we had snatched a kid's ice cream. I've looked online for a picture of that and never been able to find it.
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What a great day. I couldn't sleep the night before so i stayed up all night drinking the contents of my parents drinks cabinet and then walked (staggered) down the road and bought several Sunday papers. One of our travelling party attempted to physically eject a Brummie Red covered in scarfs, flags and badges from our coach until his two sons restrained him. To be fair to the Brummie Red he was clearly what my mum used to refer to as 'a bit special' in the head. Near to Wembley we were stopped and asked by a French film crew what we thought of Eric Cantona. I doubt our response was ever broadcast! Having topped up from the night before I was still drunk enough to think it was funny to give Karen Brady dogs abuse as she tried to get into the ground (at the second attempt as she went to the wrong entrance at first so I got two rounds of heckles in). As for the game I was sitting very near to Cyrille Regis and I had to apologise for punching the guy in front of me in the back of the neck when United were looking to make it 2-2 towards the end of the game. A cross was swung in for Mark Hughes to head in and Bosnich had to come out and punch it clear and I was so wrapped up in the game I made the same action.
I was sat near to you then, Damo, as Cyrille was only a few seats along on the row behind me. Up towards the top and slightly to the left, if I remember correctly, of the goal in which Dalian scored the first.
What a day!
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I was 11. It was the greatest day of my Villa supporting life at that time.
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I was living in Paris and flew back for a great weekend in London. I was staying with friends in Fulham and there were lots of Villa fans around there and the White Horse on Parsons Green.
I had to meet my mate from home in town as he had our tickets. In those pre-mobile phone days it was "be at this place at x o'clock and just wait as long as you have to - under no circumstances move from that spot!"
As he did work for the Dudley Schools FA - side note, a Dudley lad called John Curtis was captain of England schools, signed by Manyoo and touted for great things - and our seats were on the same side as the cameras but on the right towards the penalty area on the United side. They were quite cocky pre-game and a few were aggressive after the match but we were giving it full support for the Villa all the way through. That last 10 minutes after they pulled one back was even longer than Rotterdam. I was convinced we were going to throw it away.
There were smatterings of Villa fans around us, including a family from Hull. I remember their youngest lad had his hat nicked by a brave grown man as they left at the final whistle - he was consoled by his dad that he could buy him a new scarf but the United bloke couldn't buy a trophy. I wasn't that arsed about Manyoo before the game but they were such snidey fans in defeat that I have had a disdainful attitude towards them since that day. These days I don't think I could cope with being among opposing fans for a final.
We stayed in the ground to milk the event and then I headed back to my mates in Fulham and much booze. I must have read about 8 sports papers the next day before flying home to Paris. Fab. As a bonus, when I returned to Paris all the blokes in my Sunday team had seen the game, televised in France because of Cantona, and were mightily impressed by us. I was on a high for weeks.
Like Damo I have a tendency to jump up for headers or kick clearances away when I'm in the ground. Makes for a few bruises after tight games.
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I moved to NZ at the end of 1993 so missed it and was gutted. I have loads of photos and the programme and a ticket that my mates sent me after the final. I was so upset I wasn't there.
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What a great day. I couldn't sleep the night before so i stayed up all night drinking the contents of my parents drinks cabinet and then walked (staggered) down the road and bought several Sunday papers. One of our travelling party attempted to physically eject a Brummie Red covered in scarfs, flags and badges from our coach until his two sons restrained him. To be fair to the Brummie Red he was clearly what my mum used to refer to as 'a bit special' in the head. Near to Wembley we were stopped and asked by a French film crew what we thought of Eric Cantona. I doubt our response was ever broadcast! Having topped up from the night before I was still drunk enough to think it was funny to give Karen Brady dogs abuse as she tried to get into the ground (at the second attempt as she went to the wrong entrance at first so I got two rounds of heckles in). As for the game I was sitting very near to Cyrille Regis and I had to apologise for punching the guy in front of me in the back of the neck when United were looking to make it 2-2 towards the end of the game. A cross was swung in for Mark Hughes to head in and Bosnich had to come out and punch it clear and I was so wrapped up in the game I made the same action.
I was sat near to you then, Damo, as Cyrille was only a few seats along on the row behind me. Up towards the top and slightly to the left, if I remember correctly, of the goal in which Dalian scored the first.
What a day!
It sounds like you were very very near to me. Possibly even right next to me.
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I moved to NZ at the end of 1993 so missed it and was gutted. I have loads of photos and the programme and a ticket that my mates sent me after the final. I was so upset I wasn't there.
I nearly missed it too. I should have already moved out to Tenerife to work with a mate of mine. But we had to delay our departure for a few weeks as he had to appear in court on a drink driving charge before he could leave the country.
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What a great day. I couldn't sleep the night before so i stayed up all night drinking the contents of my parents drinks cabinet and then walked (staggered) down the road and bought several Sunday papers. One of our travelling party attempted to physically eject a Brummie Red covered in scarfs, flags and badges from our coach until his two sons restrained him. To be fair to the Brummie Red he was clearly what my mum used to refer to as 'a bit special' in the head. Near to Wembley we were stopped and asked by a French film crew what we thought of Eric Cantona. I doubt our response was ever broadcast! Having topped up from the night before I was still drunk enough to think it was funny to give Karen Brady dogs abuse as she tried to get into the ground (at the second attempt as she went to the wrong entrance at first so I got two rounds of heckles in). As for the game I was sitting very near to Cyrille Regis and I had to apologise for punching the guy in front of me in the back of the neck when United were looking to make it 2-2 towards the end of the game. A cross was swung in for Mark Hughes to head in and Bosnich had to come out and punch it clear and I was so wrapped up in the game I made the same action.
I was sat near to you then, Damo, as Cyrille was only a few seats along on the row behind me. Up towards the top and slightly to the left, if I remember correctly, of the goal in which Dalian scored the first.
What a day!
It sounds like you were very very near to me. Possibly even right next to me.
Well I think the bloke sat on my left was wearing glasses and I can vaguely remember jumping around with him when we scored. I don't remember who was sat on the other side of me. Good to know that we were celebrating together though!
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What a great day. I couldn't sleep the night before so i stayed up all night drinking the contents of my parents drinks cabinet and then walked (staggered) down the road and bought several Sunday papers. One of our travelling party attempted to physically eject a Brummie Red covered in scarfs, flags and badges from our coach until his two sons restrained him. To be fair to the Brummie Red he was clearly what my mum used to refer to as 'a bit special' in the head. Near to Wembley we were stopped and asked by a French film crew what we thought of Eric Cantona. I doubt our response was ever broadcast! Having topped up from the night before I was still drunk enough to think it was funny to give Karen Brady dogs abuse as she tried to get into the ground (at the second attempt as she went to the wrong entrance at first so I got two rounds of heckles in). As for the game I was sitting very near to Cyrille Regis and I had to apologise for punching the guy in front of me in the back of the neck when United were looking to make it 2-2 towards the end of the game. A cross was swung in for Mark Hughes to head in and Bosnich had to come out and punch it clear and I was so wrapped up in the game I made the same action.
I was sat near to you then, Damo, as Cyrille was only a few seats along on the row behind me. Up towards the top and slightly to the left, if I remember correctly, of the goal in which Dalian scored the first.
What a day!
It sounds like you were very very near to me. Possibly even right next to me.
Well I think the bloke sat on my left was wearing glasses and I can vaguely remember jumping around with him when we scored. I don't remember who was sat on the other side of me. Good to know that we were celebrating together though!
I wouldn't have been wearing glasses. I would have had my contact lenses in.
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First ever trip to Wembley and just an unbelievable day. Travelled down with a strange confidence that we were going to win, even though we were playing such a strong side.
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First ever trip to Wembley and just an unbelievable day. Travelled down with a strange confidence that we were going to win, even though we were playing such a strong side.
I don't think the confidence was misplaced. Although the team generally flattered to deceive that season, this was the same team that had beaten them twice the season before and drawn at Old Trafford and really should have won the league.
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We had lost four on the bounce going into the game though, if I remember correctly.
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Name a better day since.
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Name a better day since.
Nope, you got me.
Some will say '96, but I had the world's worst hangover so forget that.