GarryJones

As for the Linekar foul: Strange how you see things differently in the cold light of 32 years. :) I have always maintained that we were robbed at Leicester on Easter Saturday.
Easter 1980 - I had a question of faith on the Easter Monday. I had qualified for the first World Championships of Space Invaders. I got through to the final rounds starting on Easter Sunday at the Piccadilly hotel in London. Sunday went well for me and on the Monday morning I got through to the quarter-finals and a chance to win a holiday to USA and play Jimmy Carter in the White House. They moved my quarter-final round so I could play about 2 in the afternoon instead of 2.30. Chelsea were playing Luton at 3 pm. I won the q/f against some 11-year old Manc that had been on TV and tipped to win. I was interviewed by ITV. The semi was set for 4 pm. I tried to get It moved to 5 saying I could jump in a cab at 16.40 from Fulham Road. They said no. It was not even a tough call. I invited the Manc back in and went over Chelsea. Colin Lee scored with 5 seconds left, his first goal for the club, we drew 1-1. The little Manc went on to win the World Championships and found fame in USA. I completed my first 42 game season watching Chelsea. That summer I sold my Atari including the Space Invader game. I never competed again.

Peckham Blue. I would have loved for the attendance to have been 55,003 but I could not get out of a Christmas visit to our cousins in Streatham that day. I was 15. I was made to go and told how much my Uncle and Auntie and their three kids wanted to see us all. You can imagine how I felt when the first words my Uncle said when he saw me on their driveway were "Garry young chap, we didn't expect to see you today, why are you not over the Bridge?". So to put things right, it's 55,002. (And not Boxing Day as many believe, but actually on 27th December).
I was "kept" at home for the Millwall game, the Notts County was a night match, first of the season and I was kept at home. Over Easter mum thought 3 games in 4 days was too much. I went to Fulham away on Good Friday. Living in Kent I wanted to go to Charlton on the Easter Monday, a lot of my schoolmates supported them. So I was told I was not to go to the Luton at home on Easter Saturday. When I woke in the morning my mum had hidden all my shoes/boots/footware, even my football boots were missing. In protest I went to the local train station in my socks. Then I dediced against turning up at the Bridge in torn socks and bleeding feet so I went home at put LBC on. So I did 17 homes that season. (76-77)
The following season 77-78 was my first ever present home. In 78-79 I left school, got a job and didn't miss a match home or away for 5 years before I jacked it in for Sweden. My last ever-present was 82-83 when I saw 93 Chelsea games. We were knocked out of the cups in early rounds. But I did 28 reserve games, junior games, friendlies, etc. The 14 reserve games I missed were played same time as first team games.
Having emigrated to Sweden I stayed away. My last game at the Bridge? I stood in the shed, we won 1-0. But we were relegated. Boro in the 88 playoffs. My only Chelsea game since then: When Chelsea came here to Sweden to give me the trophy they never won when I spent more money and time than I could really afford on the Blue Cause. Stuttgart ECWC final 1998 in Stockholm. Also a 1-0 win.

>.......... but if you've been to Hull and back, on a rainy Tuesday night, it sure learns you to appreciate the good times.
Hmmm. I dunno about you but I thought I was the only one who went to Hull and back on the Tuesday night.
As follows.....
We drew 0-0 with Hull on Monday 18th January in the 1982 FA Cup 3rd Round. The replay was 72 hours later on Thursday 21st January - There was a national railstrike announced for Wednesday and Thursday. On the Monday night it turned bitterly cold and a snow blanket swept the country. The snow continued to fall on the Tuesday morning. Not only this, we were banned from all away games and received no tickets. So on the Tuesday morning I went up to Hull by train. By chance I sat with Arthur Scargill on the train (who travelled 2nd class, good man).
When I got to Hull I jumped in a taxi and went to the ground. The taxi driver asked me some questions. We chatted away and I asked him to wait. The tickets were on sale (I had phoned the club in the morning). It was a bitterly cold Tuesday evening with horrible rain and as far as I know I was the only Chelsea fan there. I held out money and got one ticket without having to speak. I put it in my sock and went to another window. There I introduced myself as the President of the Ipswich branch of the Hull City's supporters' club. I got 82 tickets, paid cash and turned to go back to my taxi. The taxi driver was standing behind me. We went back to the cab. Now he started getting very personal. He said he was on to me as a Chelsea fan and that he knew I was from London and that Chelsea were banned. I maintained I was from Ipswich and that there was a team of builders from Hull working on a building site plus som Hull dockers in Felixstowe who were coming up for the Chelsea game. As I was about to get out at Hull he asked to see my train ticket to prove I had come from Ipswich. I said I had travelled via London. I got out the cab, paid the fare, gave a tip and walked into the station.
I had about 30 minute till the last train out of Hull. The last train to move anywhere for 3 days as the train strike was to go ahead. I phoned a few people from the telephone booth to tell them of my success. Cathy, Matt, Terry Last and a few more. I took a few orders and I told them what time I would be back in London. Then I saw the taxi driver with a policeman walking through the station. I hung up and ducked back out of the rear of the station. I crossed the road and hid by a burger bar in the shadows. I was panicking. I hid 60 tickets in the lining of my jacket. I thought if I get stopped I can hand over 20 and say that's all I have. As we were banned I was actually not allowed to have those tickets and I'd bought them under a false pretext. I was unsure of the legal status in British law but I didn't want to find out. If a policeman decided to take the tickets away he his going to do that.
I waited till there was a minute left for my train. I ran full pelt into the station, I already knew the platform and where the gate was. I sprinted at it holding my rail ticket out. This was the last train to roll in the UK for 3 days. The guard held the gate open and shouted "run". The train started to move. I opened the door - lots of practice from my London commute after oversleeping and nearly missing trains in the morning rush hour - and jumped in. Made it. Success! - But - The train stopped. My heart raced. Had the policeman been there and flagged the train down having seen me? Before I could move the door opened again. I prepared to hand-over 20 tickets to the police in the hope I could keep the rest. A young lass in got in and smiled. They had held the train for her. The train pulled out of Hull. I was in the clear. Chelsea mission accomplished for the lads back home. I don't know if the police were still around or what they would have done. Didn't matter at the time. With 83 tickets on me I had pulled it off. Having travelled behind enemy lines and pulled off a covert action I allowed myself a beer or two on the mainline connecting train from Doncaster. I fell asleep.
Arriving back at Kings Cross at 10 to 1 I jumped off the train and started the walk towards the gates. Then I heard a familiar sound. "He's a boy, He's a boy, He's a boy, He's a boy." It was my reception committee; Terry Last, Wayne and boys from around the home counties. I done my orders and we had a coffee in the all nighter outside the station. Someone - Fuzzy Wayne, I think said "You can't ban a Chelsea fan" - I am unsure if that was ever said before but a week later badges and tee-shirts appeared. Not that I lay claim to any credit for it but my mission epitomises the phrase even if it was not coined that night. I went back to Kent by night bus to Bromley and then a 4 mile walk. Arriving home at 4-30 in the morning in a rural Kent completely covered in snow.
Wednesday I was on the morning bus at 7 and with a couple of changes got to work in the city about 9.30. Met up with Cathy, she got her quota of tickets. These late nights and early mornings were helped by the Original Lucozade. (Thank God for that drink). After work I did 2 buses over to Fulham and then Wandsworth. Sold my tickets in the usual Chelsea hotspots, York Tavern being my last port of call. Tweeky had also got hold of a few so most of the lads in there had them. Then back to Kent via 4 buses. Home around midnight. Up at 5 and on the morning bus up town. 2 buses to Charing Cross and the tube to Victoria and then the National Express Coach Station. Met up with Cathy, Matt and other mates. Sold a few more tickets. Made sure everyone had one. We changed in Sheffield and went for a beer there. Arriving in Hull in the evening. I met Kenny Salford and a few others and done my last tickets. In the ground.
This was in spite of - a ban - a snowstorm - a trainstrike - poor team performances - 72 hour notice of a game - subzero temp - a belief by many that the game would not be played. In contrast I saw Chelsea fans leaving the ground on TV today when Man Utd scored their 3rd in the 3-3 draw. Don't they realise if they are going to support Chelsea then that's what they should be doing. SUPPORT.
What does Support mean?
1. To bear the weight of, especially from below.
2. To hold in position so as to keep from falling, sinking, or slipping.
3. To be capable of bearing; withstand:
And these fans are none of that. They do not have the right to hold a Chelsea flag or wear a Chelsea shirt. That right has to be earned. The way we earned it in days gone by. I have now decided to write my book. These last few days have convinced me. There is a story that must be told. Supporting Chelsea is a chore and a privilege. When the team need it and are suffering your support is most needed. When they bang goals in its nice for you to be able to jump around like a moron for a few minutes but you can not just take the cherries out of the cake. You have to get behind the team when they are playing bad and making mistakes. Show them love. Show them understanding and guide them to great honour. In short - Be there for them!
So what of that rainy night in Hull? We won 2-0. And we went on to reach our only cup q/f between 1972 and 1992.
I had to double check this.
> .......... but if you've been to Hull and back, on a rainy Tuesday night, it sure learns you to appreciate the good times.
Maybe I stand corrected. I thought you were referring to 1982. (When I was the only one there on the Tuesday to buy tickets - with the game being played on a Thursday).
However I see that these games were also played on Tuesday nights in Hull:
8th November 1975 drew 1-1
25th October 1988 lost 3-0
So, maybe the above posting I just wrote was uncessary after all?
Cheers for now.....
PS
Any upload of Chelsea Soton 1977 when we lost 3-0 at the Bridge coming?

> How the hell do any of you lot remember so much?
Lots comes from memory.
Some comes from www.statto.com that has every result and league table ever in English football. (And most other countries). It has dates, tables, league positions on any date. You can even look at games played on a particular day. For intance 34 years ago 11th February 1978. http://www.statto.co...ults/1978-02-11 And it has a season progress level indicator that shows how a team moved up or down a league.
For instance us in 80-81
http://www.statto.co...elsea/1980-1981
Then there is this with every teamsheet and goalscorer for every Chelsea match. Goal minutes, names of referees and managers.
http://www.bounder.f...co.uk/index.htm
For instance
Chelsea (3) 6 Newcastle United (0) 0
Date: Saturday, 25th October 1980
Competition: Football League Division 2 Position 3
Venue: Stamford Bridge
Attendance: 22,916
Referee: Eric A Read (Bristol)
Chelsea 1 Petar Borota, 2 Mike Nutton, 3 Dennis Rofe, 4 John Bumstead, 5 Micky Droy, 6 Gary Chivers, 7 Phil Driver, 8 Mike Fillery, 9 Colin Lee, 10 Clive Walker (12 Ian Britton 78), 11 Peter Rhoades-Brown
Scorers Lee 15, Fillery 34, Walker 43, Lee 46, Chivers 51, Lee 86
Manager Geoff Hurst
Newcastle United Carr, Carney, Withe, Martin, Boam, Halliday, Shinton, Cartwright, Waddle (Koenen 53), Rafferty, Wharton
Manager Arthur Cox
Newcastle game listed here.
http://www.bounder.f...s/1980.htm#2994

Likes!
Lads, there is a "like button" on each posting, CLICK IT if you like the post. Its daft that I have 52 likes and Eddie Mac only 32. He is the main man here who has gone to great lengths to supply us with the video. I like my likes as I know I have a lot of input into this era but please, click on Eddies films if you like them.

I dunno if they are available or in some Chelsea vault. In seasons 79-80 & 80-81 every Chelsea home game was video taped with a betamax video camera. Then, several times a season those of us that never missed a thing(*) paid again to see the games we had already seen. We were about 40-50 fans and these screenings were in the Chelsea bar in the East Stand. The games were shown in edited highlights with no replays. The "edit" was pretty amateur but it added to the feeling of these occasions. Quite often players and managers, (mainly Geoff Hurst, as this was his era) would be there to answer questions. We always finished off with a drink in the bar. One dissapointment for us was that they showed the Match of the Day / The Big Match versions rather than their own when such footage existed. They deemed we would want to see what we had already seen rather than a particular goal or move from a different angle. These tapes hold as much fascination as the Kennedy 4th bullet or (if you are a cyclist like myself) the missing Dustin Hoffman footage from the 1985 tour de france.
* Definintion: We that did everything. (Home and away) Pre-season tours, testimonials, friendlies, youth cup, reserve matches, junior matches, The juniors played in 2 leagues, 15-16/17-18. I remember going to Cheshunt, the Tottenham training ground for the 15-16 year olds away. Just before kick-off Cathy turned up. Invariably it was just her and I or sometimes: her, Terry Last and myself at these matches. It was always good when Cathy turned up, not only was she good company she had a car so it meant a lift back to the bridge to see the first team home game in the afternoon. (Junior kick-offs were 11.00). However you think we just did football? No. when there was a baseball match or something else at the Bridge we were there. A sponsored walk to raise money for the handicapped area: check. We walked x number of laps around the pitch.
One little Chelsea vintage story. In the summer of 1982 the best two American Football teams came over and played an exhibition match at Stamford Bridge. Nobody in the UK understood the game or knew anything about it. Attendance: 230, admission £1.20. Those there: Chelsea fans singing football songs in the East Stand. We were bumused by it all and spent the day chatting about Chelsea. Someone had to tell us that the game was over and which team had one. We popped over the pub and ascertained ourselves to the fact that the daft game we had just watched(?) would never catch on in the UK. That Autumn newly formed Channel 4 started broadcasting American Football games. It caught the imagination of the Yuppies in the City. At last these empty people with no soul had their own sport. They could be seen wearing the cap of their favourite team in the City Wine bars at lunch. They discussed the ins and outs of the game. Fast Forward to the summer of 1983.The best two teams came back to the UK. This time it was Wembley Stadium. Admission £40. Attendance: 92,000 sell-out and black-market prices in the City of over £1000. (Our Chelsea touting friends made a killing). However the game became a wash-out, again, nobody really understood what was going on. But they pretended they did. And then suddenly City yuppies were boasting of long-standing affiliations to their favourite team, claiming to have supported them for 10-20 years. You know the type of person I mean: They have discoverd English football since the inception of the Premier League and have been increasing in number since then, we even have them at the Bridge: Empty souls, no Chelsea history and the worst fans we have ever had, our JCL's. I've more in common with and much more affection for the genuine Leeds, West Ham and Tottenham fans that we used to ruck with 30 years ago than our own JCL's. Methinks they'd be better off at American football games.

Yes the football was very very good. They entertained us. With the rub of the green this team would have gone from strength to strength. You may remember Bolton collapsed at the end of 76-77 and let Forest in. Here is a "What If". What if "WE" had collapsed instead? Think what another year in the 2nd might have done for this team. Eddie Mac would have stayed and the young team would have had another year to train, gel and blend. We might have just gone on to be the team of the decade in the 80's. It wasn't to be of course. But seeing many of these games again for the first time since they were played brings it all back. I even remember my home journey to Petts Wood. Fulham Broadway about 5 pm and arrive at Victoria for the 5.42. Back home about 20 past six in time for me mum's 2 giant sausage rolls with chips and beans. Saturday Night in front of the TV, Generation Game, The Cilla Black Show, The Sweeney and then "Match of The Day" at 10 pm. Sunday mornings over the park with the local lads. Roughly ten-a-side with jackets as goalposts. First to ten won. A litlte chat about the football and then back to Sunday joint and "The Big Match".
But throughout this era there was an underlying dream. Not of Premier league and foriegn players and sitting in stadiums with people claiming to support Chelsea who didn't really give a toss. Not even of winning the First Division. And not (God given the chance) to take the end at West Ham or Millwall and run their home fans rugged. No; the dream of these days was to stand at Wembley with my father who came from Roehampton and had bought me up on Chelsea. I wanted and dreamed of us standing there at the Tunnel End side by side. Year after year throughout the 70's this dream was shattered. But each year come January I believed, I yearned and I prayed. Just to stand there at Wembley. I used to think of the lyrics in "If I were a rich man" and my version was "Would it spoil same vast incredible plan if we made the cup final?". It was ALL I wanted. One day, I thought, one day, we could be there, the Chelsea manager would lead the team out, 11 Chelsea men would follow proudly out onto Wembley's hallowed turf. We'd cheer, we'd sing and we'd smile at each other. To see 11 blue heros at Wembley in May. The band would pick their instruments. The crowd would fall silent. Then building up slowly we'd sing, we'd sing:
ABIDE WITH ME; fast falls the eventide;
The darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide;
When other helpers fail and comforts flee,
Help of the helpless, oh, ABIDE WITH ME.
Swift to its close ebbs out life’s little day;
Earth’s joys grow dim, its glories pass away;
Change and decay in all around I see—
O Thou who changest not, ABIDE WITH ME.
I need Thy presence every passing hour;
What but Thy grace can foil the tempter’s pow’r?
Who, like Thyself, my guide and stay can be?
Through cloud and sunshine, Lord, ABIDE WITH ME.
I fear no foe, with Thee at hand to bless;
Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness;
Where is death’s sting? Where, grave, thy victory?
I triumph still, if Thou ABIDE WITH ME.
Hold Thou Thy cross before my closing eyes;
Shine through the gloom and point me to the skies;
Heav’n’s morning breaks, and earth’s vain shadows flee;
In life, in death, O Lord, ABIDE WITH ME.
Each year it seemed possible. I remember dancing with my father in the Shed End when Langley banged that 3rd one in against Liverpool on 7th January 1978. We were leading 3-0, Liverpool were the Gods of football and European Champions (read World Champions) which meant anything was possible. That dream, as all others, died at home to lowly Orient on 27th Feb (3 days after my father's 50th). Two years later it was Wigan at home on 14th January, we lost 1-0 having just slaughtered Newcastle 4-0 in the league 2 days previously. Well there's always next year! Always! Always? - Tragically it was not to be. The day after Preston away in April my father died suddenly and unexpectedly on 13th April. I was 18. The dream was over. (Earth’s joys grow dim, its glories pass away) Never would we and never could we stand together at Wembley and sing Abide With Me. I continued on flying the flag and didn't miss a match home or away for a few more years. But I could not take it any more living so close with so much pain. I emigrated to Sweden and have lived here ever since.
If you have not lived through these days I fail to see where any genuine Chelsea passion can come from. Eddie Mac's videos have bought it all back. I have relived these moments again for the first time since these games were played. I have the knowledge that in many of these games I was there with my Dad - in the Shed. Oh for the Carefree days of innocent youth and childhood dreams. Abide with me boys, abide with me and my dreams of what might have been. I have shed many tears in these last few days looking at footage I had never even considered the possibilty of seeing again. Abide with me - but it's taken an outer shell off of me and cut to the bone of genuine feelings of love and..... and nothing, genuine feelings of love. That suffices.
In love and in life abiding with all feelings, all defeats, all victories for those alive and those blue fans who now stand proudly in the Shed End in the sky - We'll meet again! - And Dad - get me a bag of Monkey Nuts at half-time will you?

Thanks for the heads up on Ron Harris testimonial. Now, did Jimmy Greaves score the goal or not?
Back on the Wimbledon issue. Yes the game that may or may not have been played was supposed to have been at Plough Lane, 25 January 1979. The programmes exists, it is for Wimbledon v "a Chelsea XI". Could just have been the reserves, but surely someone knows?

Likes!
Lads, there is a "like button" on each posting, CLICK IT if you like the post. Its daft that I have 52 likes and Eddie Mac only 32. He is the main man here who has gone to great lengths to supply us with the video. I like my likes as I know I have a lot of input into this era but please, click on Eddies films if you like them.

>.......... but if you've been to Hull and back, on a rainy Tuesday night, it sure learns you to appreciate the good times.
Hmmm. I dunno about you but I thought I was the only one who went to Hull and back on the Tuesday night.
As follows.....
We drew 0-0 with Hull on Monday 18th January in the 1982 FA Cup 3rd Round. The replay was 72 hours later on Thursday 21st January - There was a national railstrike announced for Wednesday and Thursday. On the Monday night it turned bitterly cold and a snow blanket swept the country. The snow continued to fall on the Tuesday morning. Not only this, we were banned from all away games and received no tickets. So on the Tuesday morning I went up to Hull by train. By chance I sat with Arthur Scargill on the train (who travelled 2nd class, good man).
When I got to Hull I jumped in a taxi and went to the ground. The taxi driver asked me some questions. We chatted away and I asked him to wait. The tickets were on sale (I had phoned the club in the morning). It was a bitterly cold Tuesday evening with horrible rain and as far as I know I was the only Chelsea fan there. I held out money and got one ticket without having to speak. I put it in my sock and went to another window. There I introduced myself as the President of the Ipswich branch of the Hull City's supporters' club. I got 82 tickets, paid cash and turned to go back to my taxi. The taxi driver was standing behind me. We went back to the cab. Now he started getting very personal. He said he was on to me as a Chelsea fan and that he knew I was from London and that Chelsea were banned. I maintained I was from Ipswich and that there was a team of builders from Hull working on a building site plus som Hull dockers in Felixstowe who were coming up for the Chelsea game. As I was about to get out at Hull he asked to see my train ticket to prove I had come from Ipswich. I said I had travelled via London. I got out the cab, paid the fare, gave a tip and walked into the station.
I had about 30 minute till the last train out of Hull. The last train to move anywhere for 3 days as the train strike was to go ahead. I phoned a few people from the telephone booth to tell them of my success. Cathy, Matt, Terry Last and a few more. I took a few orders and I told them what time I would be back in London. Then I saw the taxi driver with a policeman walking through the station. I hung up and ducked back out of the rear of the station. I crossed the road and hid by a burger bar in the shadows. I was panicking. I hid 60 tickets in the lining of my jacket. I thought if I get stopped I can hand over 20 and say that's all I have. As we were banned I was actually not allowed to have those tickets and I'd bought them under a false pretext. I was unsure of the legal status in British law but I didn't want to find out. If a policeman decided to take the tickets away he his going to do that.
I waited till there was a minute left for my train. I ran full pelt into the station, I already knew the platform and where the gate was. I sprinted at it holding my rail ticket out. This was the last train to roll in the UK for 3 days. The guard held the gate open and shouted "run". The train started to move. I opened the door - lots of practice from my London commute after oversleeping and nearly missing trains in the morning rush hour - and jumped in. Made it. Success! - But - The train stopped. My heart raced. Had the policeman been there and flagged the train down having seen me? Before I could move the door opened again. I prepared to hand-over 20 tickets to the police in the hope I could keep the rest. A young lass in got in and smiled. They had held the train for her. The train pulled out of Hull. I was in the clear. Chelsea mission accomplished for the lads back home. I don't know if the police were still around or what they would have done. Didn't matter at the time. With 83 tickets on me I had pulled it off. Having travelled behind enemy lines and pulled off a covert action I allowed myself a beer or two on the mainline connecting train from Doncaster. I fell asleep.
Arriving back at Kings Cross at 10 to 1 I jumped off the train and started the walk towards the gates. Then I heard a familiar sound. "He's a boy, He's a boy, He's a boy, He's a boy." It was my reception committee; Terry Last, Wayne and boys from around the home counties. I done my orders and we had a coffee in the all nighter outside the station. Someone - Fuzzy Wayne, I think said "You can't ban a Chelsea fan" - I am unsure if that was ever said before but a week later badges and tee-shirts appeared. Not that I lay claim to any credit for it but my mission epitomises the phrase even if it was not coined that night. I went back to Kent by night bus to Bromley and then a 4 mile walk. Arriving home at 4-30 in the morning in a rural Kent completely covered in snow.
Wednesday I was on the morning bus at 7 and with a couple of changes got to work in the city about 9.30. Met up with Cathy, she got her quota of tickets. These late nights and early mornings were helped by the Original Lucozade. (Thank God for that drink). After work I did 2 buses over to Fulham and then Wandsworth. Sold my tickets in the usual Chelsea hotspots, York Tavern being my last port of call. Tweeky had also got hold of a few so most of the lads in there had them. Then back to Kent via 4 buses. Home around midnight. Up at 5 and on the morning bus up town. 2 buses to Charing Cross and the tube to Victoria and then the National Express Coach Station. Met up with Cathy, Matt and other mates. Sold a few more tickets. Made sure everyone had one. We changed in Sheffield and went for a beer there. Arriving in Hull in the evening. I met Kenny Salford and a few others and done my last tickets. In the ground.
This was in spite of - a ban - a snowstorm - a trainstrike - poor team performances - 72 hour notice of a game - subzero temp - a belief by many that the game would not be played. In contrast I saw Chelsea fans leaving the ground on TV today when Man Utd scored their 3rd in the 3-3 draw. Don't they realise if they are going to support Chelsea then that's what they should be doing. SUPPORT.
What does Support mean?
1. To bear the weight of, especially from below.
2. To hold in position so as to keep from falling, sinking, or slipping.
3. To be capable of bearing; withstand:
And these fans are none of that. They do not have the right to hold a Chelsea flag or wear a Chelsea shirt. That right has to be earned. The way we earned it in days gone by. I have now decided to write my book. These last few days have convinced me. There is a story that must be told. Supporting Chelsea is a chore and a privilege. When the team need it and are suffering your support is most needed. When they bang goals in its nice for you to be able to jump around like a moron for a few minutes but you can not just take the cherries out of the cake. You have to get behind the team when they are playing bad and making mistakes. Show them love. Show them understanding and guide them to great honour. In short - Be there for them!
So what of that rainy night in Hull? We won 2-0. And we went on to reach our only cup q/f between 1972 and 1992.
I had to double check this.
> .......... but if you've been to Hull and back, on a rainy Tuesday night, it sure learns you to appreciate the good times.
Maybe I stand corrected. I thought you were referring to 1982. (When I was the only one there on the Tuesday to buy tickets - with the game being played on a Thursday).
However I see that these games were also played on Tuesday nights in Hull:
8th November 1975 drew 1-1
25th October 1988 lost 3-0
So, maybe the above posting I just wrote was uncessary after all?
Cheers for now.....
PS
Any upload of Chelsea Soton 1977 when we lost 3-0 at the Bridge coming?

Yes the football was very very good. They entertained us. With the rub of the green this team would have gone from strength to strength. You may remember Bolton collapsed at the end of 76-77 and let Forest in. Here is a "What If". What if "WE" had collapsed instead? Think what another year in the 2nd might have done for this team. Eddie Mac would have stayed and the young team would have had another year to train, gel and blend. We might have just gone on to be the team of the decade in the 80's. It wasn't to be of course. But seeing many of these games again for the first time since they were played brings it all back. I even remember my home journey to Petts Wood. Fulham Broadway about 5 pm and arrive at Victoria for the 5.42. Back home about 20 past six in time for me mum's 2 giant sausage rolls with chips and beans. Saturday Night in front of the TV, Generation Game, The Cilla Black Show, The Sweeney and then "Match of The Day" at 10 pm. Sunday mornings over the park with the local lads. Roughly ten-a-side with jackets as goalposts. First to ten won. A litlte chat about the football and then back to Sunday joint and "The Big Match".
But throughout this era there was an underlying dream. Not of Premier league and foriegn players and sitting in stadiums with people claiming to support Chelsea who didn't really give a toss. Not even of winning the First Division. And not (God given the chance) to take the end at West Ham or Millwall and run their home fans rugged. No; the dream of these days was to stand at Wembley with my father who came from Roehampton and had bought me up on Chelsea. I wanted and dreamed of us standing there at the Tunnel End side by side. Year after year throughout the 70's this dream was shattered. But each year come January I believed, I yearned and I prayed. Just to stand there at Wembley. I used to think of the lyrics in "If I were a rich man" and my version was "Would it spoil same vast incredible plan if we made the cup final?". It was ALL I wanted. One day, I thought, one day, we could be there, the Chelsea manager would lead the team out, 11 Chelsea men would follow proudly out onto Wembley's hallowed turf. We'd cheer, we'd sing and we'd smile at each other. To see 11 blue heros at Wembley in May. The band would pick their instruments. The crowd would fall silent. Then building up slowly we'd sing, we'd sing:
ABIDE WITH ME; fast falls the eventide;
The darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide;
When other helpers fail and comforts flee,
Help of the helpless, oh, ABIDE WITH ME.
Swift to its close ebbs out life’s little day;
Earth’s joys grow dim, its glories pass away;
Change and decay in all around I see—
O Thou who changest not, ABIDE WITH ME.
I need Thy presence every passing hour;
What but Thy grace can foil the tempter’s pow’r?
Who, like Thyself, my guide and stay can be?
Through cloud and sunshine, Lord, ABIDE WITH ME.
I fear no foe, with Thee at hand to bless;
Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness;
Where is death’s sting? Where, grave, thy victory?
I triumph still, if Thou ABIDE WITH ME.
Hold Thou Thy cross before my closing eyes;
Shine through the gloom and point me to the skies;
Heav’n’s morning breaks, and earth’s vain shadows flee;
In life, in death, O Lord, ABIDE WITH ME.
Each year it seemed possible. I remember dancing with my father in the Shed End when Langley banged that 3rd one in against Liverpool on 7th January 1978. We were leading 3-0, Liverpool were the Gods of football and European Champions (read World Champions) which meant anything was possible. That dream, as all others, died at home to lowly Orient on 27th Feb (3 days after my father's 50th). Two years later it was Wigan at home on 14th January, we lost 1-0 having just slaughtered Newcastle 4-0 in the league 2 days previously. Well there's always next year! Always! Always? - Tragically it was not to be. The day after Preston away in April my father died suddenly and unexpectedly on 13th April. I was 18. The dream was over. (Earth’s joys grow dim, its glories pass away) Never would we and never could we stand together at Wembley and sing Abide With Me. I continued on flying the flag and didn't miss a match home or away for a few more years. But I could not take it any more living so close with so much pain. I emigrated to Sweden and have lived here ever since.
If you have not lived through these days I fail to see where any genuine Chelsea passion can come from. Eddie Mac's videos have bought it all back. I have relived these moments again for the first time since these games were played. I have the knowledge that in many of these games I was there with my Dad - in the Shed. Oh for the Carefree days of innocent youth and childhood dreams. Abide with me boys, abide with me and my dreams of what might have been. I have shed many tears in these last few days looking at footage I had never even considered the possibilty of seeing again. Abide with me - but it's taken an outer shell off of me and cut to the bone of genuine feelings of love and..... and nothing, genuine feelings of love. That suffices.
In love and in life abiding with all feelings, all defeats, all victories for those alive and those blue fans who now stand proudly in the Shed End in the sky - We'll meet again! - And Dad - get me a bag of Monkey Nuts at half-time will you?

>.......... but if you've been to Hull and back, on a rainy Tuesday night, it sure learns you to appreciate the good times.
Hmmm. I dunno about you but I thought I was the only one who went to Hull and back on the Tuesday night.
As follows.....
We drew 0-0 with Hull on Monday 18th January in the 1982 FA Cup 3rd Round. The replay was 72 hours later on Thursday 21st January - There was a national railstrike announced for Wednesday and Thursday. On the Monday night it turned bitterly cold and a snow blanket swept the country. The snow continued to fall on the Tuesday morning. Not only this, we were banned from all away games and received no tickets. So on the Tuesday morning I went up to Hull by train. By chance I sat with Arthur Scargill on the train (who travelled 2nd class, good man).
When I got to Hull I jumped in a taxi and went to the ground. The taxi driver asked me some questions. We chatted away and I asked him to wait. The tickets were on sale (I had phoned the club in the morning). It was a bitterly cold Tuesday evening with horrible rain and as far as I know I was the only Chelsea fan there. I held out money and got one ticket without having to speak. I put it in my sock and went to another window. There I introduced myself as the President of the Ipswich branch of the Hull City's supporters' club. I got 82 tickets, paid cash and turned to go back to my taxi. The taxi driver was standing behind me. We went back to the cab. Now he started getting very personal. He said he was on to me as a Chelsea fan and that he knew I was from London and that Chelsea were banned. I maintained I was from Ipswich and that there was a team of builders from Hull working on a building site plus som Hull dockers in Felixstowe who were coming up for the Chelsea game. As I was about to get out at Hull he asked to see my train ticket to prove I had come from Ipswich. I said I had travelled via London. I got out the cab, paid the fare, gave a tip and walked into the station.
I had about 30 minute till the last train out of Hull. The last train to move anywhere for 3 days as the train strike was to go ahead. I phoned a few people from the telephone booth to tell them of my success. Cathy, Matt, Terry Last and a few more. I took a few orders and I told them what time I would be back in London. Then I saw the taxi driver with a policeman walking through the station. I hung up and ducked back out of the rear of the station. I crossed the road and hid by a burger bar in the shadows. I was panicking. I hid 60 tickets in the lining of my jacket. I thought if I get stopped I can hand over 20 and say that's all I have. As we were banned I was actually not allowed to have those tickets and I'd bought them under a false pretext. I was unsure of the legal status in British law but I didn't want to find out. If a policeman decided to take the tickets away he his going to do that.
I waited till there was a minute left for my train. I ran full pelt into the station, I already knew the platform and where the gate was. I sprinted at it holding my rail ticket out. This was the last train to roll in the UK for 3 days. The guard held the gate open and shouted "run". The train started to move. I opened the door - lots of practice from my London commute after oversleeping and nearly missing trains in the morning rush hour - and jumped in. Made it. Success! - But - The train stopped. My heart raced. Had the policeman been there and flagged the train down having seen me? Before I could move the door opened again. I prepared to hand-over 20 tickets to the police in the hope I could keep the rest. A young lass in got in and smiled. They had held the train for her. The train pulled out of Hull. I was in the clear. Chelsea mission accomplished for the lads back home. I don't know if the police were still around or what they would have done. Didn't matter at the time. With 83 tickets on me I had pulled it off. Having travelled behind enemy lines and pulled off a covert action I allowed myself a beer or two on the mainline connecting train from Doncaster. I fell asleep.
Arriving back at Kings Cross at 10 to 1 I jumped off the train and started the walk towards the gates. Then I heard a familiar sound. "He's a boy, He's a boy, He's a boy, He's a boy." It was my reception committee; Terry Last, Wayne and boys from around the home counties. I done my orders and we had a coffee in the all nighter outside the station. Someone - Fuzzy Wayne, I think said "You can't ban a Chelsea fan" - I am unsure if that was ever said before but a week later badges and tee-shirts appeared. Not that I lay claim to any credit for it but my mission epitomises the phrase even if it was not coined that night. I went back to Kent by night bus to Bromley and then a 4 mile walk. Arriving home at 4-30 in the morning in a rural Kent completely covered in snow.
Wednesday I was on the morning bus at 7 and with a couple of changes got to work in the city about 9.30. Met up with Cathy, she got her quota of tickets. These late nights and early mornings were helped by the Original Lucozade. (Thank God for that drink). After work I did 2 buses over to Fulham and then Wandsworth. Sold my tickets in the usual Chelsea hotspots, York Tavern being my last port of call. Tweeky had also got hold of a few so most of the lads in there had them. Then back to Kent via 4 buses. Home around midnight. Up at 5 and on the morning bus up town. 2 buses to Charing Cross and the tube to Victoria and then the National Express Coach Station. Met up with Cathy, Matt and other mates. Sold a few more tickets. Made sure everyone had one. We changed in Sheffield and went for a beer there. Arriving in Hull in the evening. I met Kenny Salford and a few others and done my last tickets. In the ground.
This was in spite of - a ban - a snowstorm - a trainstrike - poor team performances - 72 hour notice of a game - subzero temp - a belief by many that the game would not be played. In contrast I saw Chelsea fans leaving the ground on TV today when Man Utd scored their 3rd in the 3-3 draw. Don't they realise if they are going to support Chelsea then that's what they should be doing. SUPPORT.
What does Support mean?
1. To bear the weight of, especially from below.
2. To hold in position so as to keep from falling, sinking, or slipping.
3. To be capable of bearing; withstand:
And these fans are none of that. They do not have the right to hold a Chelsea flag or wear a Chelsea shirt. That right has to be earned. The way we earned it in days gone by. I have now decided to write my book. These last few days have convinced me. There is a story that must be told. Supporting Chelsea is a chore and a privilege. When the team need it and are suffering your support is most needed. When they bang goals in its nice for you to be able to jump around like a moron for a few minutes but you can not just take the cherries out of the cake. You have to get behind the team when they are playing bad and making mistakes. Show them love. Show them understanding and guide them to great honour. In short - Be there for them!
So what of that rainy night in Hull? We won 2-0. And we went on to reach our only cup q/f between 1972 and 1992.
I had to double check this.
> .......... but if you've been to Hull and back, on a rainy Tuesday night, it sure learns you to appreciate the good times.
Maybe I stand corrected. I thought you were referring to 1982. (When I was the only one there on the Tuesday to buy tickets - with the game being played on a Thursday).
However I see that these games were also played on Tuesday nights in Hull:
8th November 1975 drew 1-1
25th October 1988 lost 3-0
So, maybe the above posting I just wrote was uncessary after all?
Cheers for now.....
PS
Any upload of Chelsea Soton 1977 when we lost 3-0 at the Bridge coming?

1976-77
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WLK9eS40cZs

arrrrrrrrrrrrhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh - We're the tea-bar, we're the tea-bar, we're the tea-bar of the shed.

That Hereford game:
Where is the second part? It ends with us leading 4-1.
Anyway watch hereford again (page 22) - at 4.20 David Hay runs into the Hereford attacker. Its a possible penalty. Not a single player appeals for it. The attacker looks at the ref and picks himself up and gets on with the game. These overpaid cheating superstars of today should learn from that. Men used to play football. This lot (with virtually no exceptions) are cheating scallywags, so pleased I saw the football I did back in the 70's. Those WERE the DAYS, my friends.

Yes the football was very very good. They entertained us. With the rub of the green this team would have gone from strength to strength. You may remember Bolton collapsed at the end of 76-77 and let Forest in. Here is a "What If". What if "WE" had collapsed instead? Think what another year in the 2nd might have done for this team. Eddie Mac would have stayed and the young team would have had another year to train, gel and blend. We might have just gone on to be the team of the decade in the 80's. It wasn't to be of course. But seeing many of these games again for the first time since they were played brings it all back. I even remember my home journey to Petts Wood. Fulham Broadway about 5 pm and arrive at Victoria for the 5.42. Back home about 20 past six in time for me mum's 2 giant sausage rolls with chips and beans. Saturday Night in front of the TV, Generation Game, The Cilla Black Show, The Sweeney and then "Match of The Day" at 10 pm. Sunday mornings over the park with the local lads. Roughly ten-a-side with jackets as goalposts. First to ten won. A litlte chat about the football and then back to Sunday joint and "The Big Match".
But throughout this era there was an underlying dream. Not of Premier league and foriegn players and sitting in stadiums with people claiming to support Chelsea who didn't really give a toss. Not even of winning the First Division. And not (God given the chance) to take the end at West Ham or Millwall and run their home fans rugged. No; the dream of these days was to stand at Wembley with my father who came from Roehampton and had bought me up on Chelsea. I wanted and dreamed of us standing there at the Tunnel End side by side. Year after year throughout the 70's this dream was shattered. But each year come January I believed, I yearned and I prayed. Just to stand there at Wembley. I used to think of the lyrics in "If I were a rich man" and my version was "Would it spoil same vast incredible plan if we made the cup final?". It was ALL I wanted. One day, I thought, one day, we could be there, the Chelsea manager would lead the team out, 11 Chelsea men would follow proudly out onto Wembley's hallowed turf. We'd cheer, we'd sing and we'd smile at each other. To see 11 blue heros at Wembley in May. The band would pick their instruments. The crowd would fall silent. Then building up slowly we'd sing, we'd sing:
ABIDE WITH ME; fast falls the eventide;
The darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide;
When other helpers fail and comforts flee,
Help of the helpless, oh, ABIDE WITH ME.
Swift to its close ebbs out life’s little day;
Earth’s joys grow dim, its glories pass away;
Change and decay in all around I see—
O Thou who changest not, ABIDE WITH ME.
I need Thy presence every passing hour;
What but Thy grace can foil the tempter’s pow’r?
Who, like Thyself, my guide and stay can be?
Through cloud and sunshine, Lord, ABIDE WITH ME.
I fear no foe, with Thee at hand to bless;
Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness;
Where is death’s sting? Where, grave, thy victory?
I triumph still, if Thou ABIDE WITH ME.
Hold Thou Thy cross before my closing eyes;
Shine through the gloom and point me to the skies;
Heav’n’s morning breaks, and earth’s vain shadows flee;
In life, in death, O Lord, ABIDE WITH ME.
Each year it seemed possible. I remember dancing with my father in the Shed End when Langley banged that 3rd one in against Liverpool on 7th January 1978. We were leading 3-0, Liverpool were the Gods of football and European Champions (read World Champions) which meant anything was possible. That dream, as all others, died at home to lowly Orient on 27th Feb (3 days after my father's 50th). Two years later it was Wigan at home on 14th January, we lost 1-0 having just slaughtered Newcastle 4-0 in the league 2 days previously. Well there's always next year! Always! Always? - Tragically it was not to be. The day after Preston away in April my father died suddenly and unexpectedly on 13th April. I was 18. The dream was over. (Earth’s joys grow dim, its glories pass away) Never would we and never could we stand together at Wembley and sing Abide With Me. I continued on flying the flag and didn't miss a match home or away for a few more years. But I could not take it any more living so close with so much pain. I emigrated to Sweden and have lived here ever since.
If you have not lived through these days I fail to see where any genuine Chelsea passion can come from. Eddie Mac's videos have bought it all back. I have relived these moments again for the first time since these games were played. I have the knowledge that in many of these games I was there with my Dad - in the Shed. Oh for the Carefree days of innocent youth and childhood dreams. Abide with me boys, abide with me and my dreams of what might have been. I have shed many tears in these last few days looking at footage I had never even considered the possibilty of seeing again. Abide with me - but it's taken an outer shell off of me and cut to the bone of genuine feelings of love and..... and nothing, genuine feelings of love. That suffices.
In love and in life abiding with all feelings, all defeats, all victories for those alive and those blue fans who now stand proudly in the Shed End in the sky - We'll meet again! - And Dad - get me a bag of Monkey Nuts at half-time will you?

Some old Shed Pics

The painting was stolen after the Chelsea disco evening in 81. I posted some pictures here earlier from that disco when Robson and co turned up with Ray Wilkins.
The painting was from the Chelsea v Arsenal record crowd for a home team playing a league game at home. A record that still stands, 82,905. There are just two league games with higher attendences but these are disqualified because they were played at a neutral ground and thus drew attention from three sets of fans.
The painting was lifted off of the wall in its frame. As far as I know it was never returned so I was one of the last people to see it. However I think the photo above may have been a photo that the painting was based on as the painting was in full colour.

Greyhound racing: The first meeting took place on 31st July 1937. Meetings continued for 31 years until the curtain came down on 1st August 1968.
There are some more facts here.
http://www.oleole.com/stadiums/stamford-bridge/history/vhin.html
However this site shows greyhound badges for the ground dating back to 33.
http://www.greyhoundderby.com/Stamford%20Bridge%20Greyhound%20Stadium.htm
And some wonderful pictures and stories from the grounds speedway days dating back to 28
http://www.defunctspeedway.co.uk/Stamford%20Bridge.htm

Having spent the last few weeks on here and thinking about the old days I have taken a new interest in a lot of the old stuff. Whilst many pictures and videos have been posted I have found out just how much I do remember. I will probably get round to that book soon.
I have been more involved in the Chelsea chats in Facebook as well. This afternoon I saw a lot about Peter Osgood who died 6 years ago today. A Chelsea mate on Facebook remarked that there was a rather special horse running in the 17.10 at Taunton. The horse's name? Osgood! - Well I just had to. I am not a gambling man and I can't remember betting on a horse since West Tip rode home the National back in 86.
So I logged into William Hill, put £50 on the nose and Osgood came in at 9/2.
Without you lot on here it is doubtful I would have done this. So next time I am over in the UK I've got a £225 bar float and hope to meet up with you lot in a Chelsea boozer!
Cheers lads!
Did anyone else back it?

Having spent the last few weeks on here and thinking about the old days I have taken a new interest in a lot of the old stuff. Whilst many pictures and videos have been posted I have found out just how much I do remember. I will probably get round to that book soon.
I have been more involved in the Chelsea chats in Facebook as well. This afternoon I saw a lot about Peter Osgood who died 6 years ago today. A Chelsea mate on Facebook remarked that there was a rather special horse running in the 17.10 at Taunton. The horse's name? Osgood! - Well I just had to. I am not a gambling man and I can't remember betting on a horse since West Tip rode home the National back in 86.
So I logged into William Hill, put £50 on the nose and Osgood came in at 9/2.
Without you lot on here it is doubtful I would have done this. So next time I am over in the UK I've got a £225 bar float and hope to meet up with you lot in a Chelsea boozer!
Cheers lads!
Did anyone else back it?

Celtic Chelsea match.
CELTIC FC
Coach: Jock STEIN.
Scorers: Glavin 11, Edvaldsson 31.
Team: Latchford, McGrain, lynch, Casey, MacDonald, Aitken, Glavin, Edvaldsson, Craig, Burns, Lennox.
Subs:Baines, Wilson, Doyle, Kay, McLaughlin.
CHELSEA FC
Coach: Eddie MCCREADIE.
Scorers: Finnieston 19, Wilkins 64.
Team: Phillips, Locke, Sparrow, Stanley, Wicks, Harris, Swain, Wilkins, Finnieston, Lewington, Langly.
Subs: Bradley, G.Wilkins, Britton, Gardiner.
That may well be Daglish on the cover, but fives days before the match, on 10 August 1977, and after making 320 appearances and scoring 167 goals for Celtic, Dalglish was signed by Liverpool manager Bob Paisley for a British transfer fee record of £440,000. Dalglish's departure was unpopular with the Celtic fans, and when he returned in August 1978 to play in Stein's testimonial, he was booed by a large contingent of Celtic supporters.
The date of the 10th is from Wiki, but "Kenny Dalglish bid farewell to Celtic and joined Liverpool on 13 August 1977, for a then record fee of £440,000." according to talkfootball.co.uk - but either date, before the 15th.

Just going off-topic, I wont be around for a few days. Keep up the great postings, I noticed that the Sillet picture messed up. I will get onto it.
As many of you know I live in the village of Mora, Sweden. This little town is famous for an annual cross-country ski race that finishes in the town centre. As token Englishman I usually get roped into things whenever an English company or whatever comes over. I stayed in sports after I emigrated and got into road cycling and am now the president of the county federation. Anyway, it looks like I'll be looking after Pippa Middleton and her brother for a few days. They are coming over for this 90km Ski Race on Sunday. I'll be inviting her back for a cycling event in this summer. I will try and approach the topic of football, she might well be a Chelsea fan. (Well you can't meet someone sort of famous and not mention Chelsea can you?).

Looking at the story on the Stoke programme I wonder how many others went to see the first team who took over the reserve team place against Birmingham. Football has come full circle, if Chelsea were to play Stoke today in a meaningless game (read friendly, testimonial, league cup, low league team at end of season when we have nothing to play fore) then the RESERVE team would take over the fixture.
My God I am so happy we had what we had when we did, the kids growing up with the modern game and all its prima donnas and jcl's will never have these type of stories when they are 50 and looking back.
I often feel like the years 76-83 was our own version of "World War II" with campaigns, hardships, death of a few good mates and a time of comradery and sacrifice you look back on fondly even if you know you wouldn't really wanna go back there to that "hell on earth" that we used to live. However you feel that it has shaped you and done you no harm and that the youth of today just don't know how good they have it.
These kids will never know the elation of going over the top of the steps after the climb up into the Shed End and seeing a camera behind the goal. You lived in hope every week, and then suddenly it was there! - A camera, YEEEEEEEES - a televised match, when things were bad maybe just 4 or 5 times a season. But now a chance to sing louder and show the rest of England what a well supported team we are. Chance to have a go at a few opposing teams supporters and star players with a quick cunning jibe or two in unison. No fan of today can understand this, for today every time a player moves an inch 40 yards from the ball his heartrate, workrate, runrate and whateverelserate are deeply analysed by computers and football pundits and a replay of how he moved can be shown from 16 different angles.

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