This week’s Fan Chat comes from Stuart Ions who wisely chooses to ignore the current goings on at the club and looks back on some memories as a Palace fan.
I am told that when you remember a past event, you are actually remembering the last time you remembered it.
Often I replay the evening of 17th May 1990 wondering how much I really do remember. Most Crystal Palace fans of a certain age will know what happened that night – most are probably still disappointed. My overwhelming memory of that night is one of relief and overwhelming gratitude towards an opposing fan.
17th May 1990 – Crystal Palace v Manchester United – FA Cup Final replay
In 1990 I was nine years old and already had an unhealthy obsession with Crystal Palace. The 1989/90 season had been a baptism of fire back in England’s top tier. It is fair to say we flourished more in the FA Cup than we did the league. The early stages of the competition were relatively kind to us, games against the likes of Huddersfield Town, Rochdale and Cambridge United saw us cruise into the semi-finals of the competition for the first time since 1976. We drew Liverpool, the favourites for the cup and the team that had inflicted a 9-0 defeat on us at Anfield a few months prior.
Villa Park, Birmingham hosted the match. Palace were massive underdogs and many thought they were in for a hiding when Ian Rush slotted the ball past Nigel Martyn after 14 minutes. That was to be the first of seven goals that day, in what would turn out to be one of the greatest FA Cup semi-finals in history. Finishing 3-3 the game went to extra time and was settled by a bullet header from Alan Pardew after a wonderful flick on by Andy Thorn. 4-3. Palace had done it, we were on our way to Wembley with only Manchester United standing in our way of the cup.
In 1990 Manchester United were a team in transition. Sir Alex Ferguson was a long way away from being an Old Trafford legend. In fact, after a relatively poor season questions were being raised about Ferguson’s future as manager (who would have thought?). They needed to win the cup.
Having failed to get tickets for the final my family gathered round the television in my parents house to watch a piece of Palace history. The final was everything you want from a great football match. Goals, passion and drama. Super subs coming on and sending us to dream land only to have it so cruelly snatched away. Extra time could not separate these evenly matched teams and after 120 minutes the match ended 3-3. Rather than settle with a penalty shootout, the whole tie would be played out again a few days later.
I am not sure when my Dad decided we were not missing out on tickets again. I do remember being awoken at an un-godly hour to queue up with thousands of other fans outside Selhurst Park. A sea of people all desperate to support their team. People had camped overnight to secure a ticket. The dedication then as it is now was amazing. After what seemed like a million hours we emerged with tickets. Wembley was just a few days away. Excitement and nervous energy surrounded me as I made my first trip to Wembley. I probably did not really understand the magnitude of the occasion. Getting off the tube and seeing a sea of red and blue walking towards the famous twin towers just added to the excitement.
I remember when I got into the ground I was a bit disappointed, it was very dark a bit grotty and it stunk of beer (in years to come I would appreciate this.) Ten members of my family had made the trip and were frantically queuing to get beer and food before the game kicked off. Due to a massive lack of communication we ended up with three crates of Holstein Pilsner – no-one got me a coke! I was given a choice, have a sip of beer or go thirsty. Suffice to say it was a day of firsts.
The match kicked off with the enthusiasm that had engulfed the first match. It soon became apparent that we were not in for the feast of football we had enjoyed the previous Saturday.
My residing memory of the game was our awful yellow and black kit, Manchester United dropping their keeper Jim Leighton and replacing him with the now late Les Sealey. The game ended 1-0 to Manchester United with the goal scored by Lee Martin, the only goal he would ever score for United. Our dreams were over. Leaving Wembley deflated we headed in our droves to the tube station. Thousands of people all wanting to go home. The amount of people being allowed into the station was staggering. The more people allowed through the more condensed the tunnels became.
Clinging tightly to my Dad’s hand I was struggling to stand. The crowd was pushing from side to side, a wall of people with nowhere to go. It was then that every parents worst nightmare happened. The crowd surged and my Dad just could not hold on to me. I got sucked underneath the crowd and was being trampled on by a mass of people, unaware that I was down there. Frantically my parents tried to reach me but the crowds were too strong. It was then that my saviour appeared.
In my Dad’s words ‘This absolutely massive Manc geezer just scooped you up from the floor and put you on his shoulders’.” He spotted my parents frantically waving and gave them a thumbs up and a smile. He kept me on his shoulders for the next few minutes before safely getting me to the platform. It was then he reunited me with my relieved parents who could not stop thanking him and shaking his hand. He just replied with ‘no worries guys’ in a thick Manchester accent. As quickly as he appeared he was soon gone, disappearing into the crowd.
We never saw him again but whenever we are talking about the FA Cup Final he is always the first thing we remember. Sometimes you can make a difference to someones life and not even know it. I often wonder if he knows how grateful we were for his actions.
