Nowthen!

Here are my thoughts from last Sunday, it's long so if you've heard enoughswitch off now.

The day started at 8am by being waved off by our lass and my 1year old Thomas ( our lass desperately hoping I don't break a leg before we go on holiday the following Saturday......If she'd seen afew of the tackles during the day, she'd have been a bag of nervous).

I picked up Daryll at 9(ish) at Milton Keynes, and pop around hisplace for a quick cuppa before the long journey (well a trip to thecorner shop is a long journey in an old metro, by the way, sorry ifBettsy dropped oil outside your place mate) and chat about whywe don't live in the Boro anymore.

Now Daryll's got these two smashing dogs but one of them reminded me of my mates dog which only has three legs.This thing launches itself at you as you walked through the doorand it's remaining front leg always sides inside your thigh straight intoyour nuts!, my mates dog had an excuse, Daryll's just seemed toenjoy seeing you double up :-).

We set off and discuss home, and how it would be great if we won.

We arrive nice and early (the directions were spot on) park under one of the few trees in the area, and try to spot any other Borotops, "I hope they turn up", "so do I " replies Daryll.Slowly his away top starts to act as a magnet, first to spot us is PeteHodgson, and he's got a ball.

The scene is set, introductions over,we form a triangle and start passing to each other. We decide to go and see what's in the marquee.We pass small clusters of teams with scruffy looking kits,"reckonwe'll look the best", say I, "aye" both the others agree. At the tent we meet the bloke who's decision later in the day is to leave QPR totally pissed off :-), "is Dave Roberts here yet?" he asks,"what does he look like" I reply, "I see you lot are doing this thing properlythen" he says, presumably referring to the fact that some of the teamswere actually pub teams, and hadn't just got together for the day.

Back at the car we start passing Pete's ball again, soon the othersstart to arrive in two's and three's then a car full. So there we all are,stood in a circle passing the ball between us.Time for more introductions, by the time we get all the way round the circle I've forgotten the first four names!, never mind, there's along day ahead.

Dave 'Robbo' Roberts decides it's time to get the kit "I'll just get meshit" he says meaning kits, papers etc, "aye, and bring the kit aswell"comes the reply...ha ha that set the tone for the rest of the day.The kits come out the bag and they're XXL great they'll actually fitus. It's just like school again "who wants number 12", no answer," Ok,number 6", "that's mine" I say and grab it. At school where you played depended on which shirt you managedto grab hold of.We start to get envious looks from the other teams as they march down to the pitches.

Dave puts shirt numbers against names "so you know us?" someoneasks, "so yer can't nick 'em", comes the reply....Bastard.As we kit up I suddenly begin to get an attack of nerves, I nowregret the bowl of muesli for breakfast, "be great if we couldwin", someone says.

It's getting hot, time for the factor 65.

We meet up with Alex and Tim and it's time for the Team photo infront of the goal, there we all are looking smart and feeling good,then Robbo lets rip......blames some Indian.

Our first games against Notts county and I'm left out, so it's up anddown the touchline shouting the lads on, this is going to kill me.The team plays well and Rich Bendelow, who is a big lad and err......didn't look the fittest thing on two legs, in fact he joked when given the No 8 shirt "is my shirt the one they hung from the helicopter at the Riverside?", turned out to be shit hot in front ofgoal, and looked like scoring every time he got the ball (come tothink of it, he did).We win 5-0 and everyone's had a run out. Then Robbo gets methinking by saying "only 3 more games to the final lads!", and, "If wewin they'll probably give us the kits". He didn't really mean the second remark, but that's all I needed to hear.

Due to traffic problems one team is late, so we're asked to go straight into the next game with a fresh Spurs side who were thought to be one of the favourites, "give us 10 Mins then" says Robbo.These games were only 30 mins, but it was bloody hot, after justhalf the first game I drank a litre of water straight off.

Now I must defend Robbo here, as he was not the only one to blame for the only goal we conceded in open play, I must put myhand up here and take responsibility for not making a tackle, andallowing their striker to run away from me, and give 'sit down it hityer', no chance. I fainted to tackle, and the idea was the striker wassupposed to jump, expecting a 'big' challenge, then while he was in the air I would keep running, and take the ball away.......10 yearsago I'd use this trick all the time, but this little bastard err I meanstriker just kept running and got a yard away from me, just to farto hack, i mean tackle.

Now this was the first test of our metal.

We tightened up, and that was the last chance they had. After some pressing, we win a corner. with time running out I goup for the corner (one of the few times I strayed away from thehalfway line all day) but before the ball gets anywhere near me, upjumps Rob with in a really powerful header, top left corner job!.

After this it's only a matter of time and the winner arrives via thatman Bendelow.

The banter between the arse and spurs lads was really funny, whoever spurs were playing against, the arse would support, and if thatteam scored,aswell as their own players mobbing them the arse ladswould!, and visa versa, but the best laugh of the day was when Leeds were playing Manure, when Leeds scored, most of the otherteams invaded the pitch. spurs, boro, arse, villa just about everybody.....classic.

Guess who went straight home after that match :-)

Time for more factor 65.

Spurs against Colchester was a suprise with Colchester, who looka scruffy lot (different tops that is) showing some good form, with4 or 4 'useful' players, but we all reckoned the spurs let them run atthem far to much. The odd strong tackle was needed.Colchester win 3-2.....they look like our main opposition in group B.

Notts County against Colchester and the Essex (?) boys are reallygetting cocky now and start taking the piss out of County, which isout of order as county were a decent set of lads. The final strawcame when one of the goal scorers starts to give the goalie twofingers at close range as he's layed on the floor......we discuss whowill look after who. Colchester win 5-0.

This result means we need to win to be sure of going through to thesemi final.

The game starts and almost immediately Colchester are through butthe lad pulls his shot, right, time to get stuck in. That was the best chance they had, as one by one their 'stars' came up against a redbrick wall, and as you know, if you run into a brick wall, you'll always come off second best.

Confession number 2.

Robbo's been accused of letting one or two opponents 'feel' hisstuds. On this occasion he was innocent, the lad with the light blueshirt (he of the fingers fame) decided it was a good idea to run straight into the heart of the defence..tut, tut. Robbo went out tomeet him just as fast, and his tackle forces him across the boxand away from goal, but he shapes up for a shot. Couldn't resist it(yer honour) I go for the tackle arriving 5 ms to late. "Arhhhhh" heshouts, "oh shit" my reply. But in all fairness he made alot more of itthan was necessary. As he limped back to take up defensive duties,(along with the other star strikers) I offer my apologies, but hemumbles something about "fucking studs" . this was not deliberatebut did leave a certain satisfaction.

So "studs" was not guilty on this occasion. I do not own up to thisout of any misplaced pride, but out of a sense of justice (although Idon't suppose for one minute, Robbo gives a toss :-) ). In the endwe run out easy winners.

The mood changed slightly at this point, not that things got reallyserious (how could it with a crew like this) but the talk now was"we could make the final" instead of "be nice to reach the semi's",which we now had.

The Semi was against Notts forest. By now the dead leg I recived( from Robbo in the first game I reckon when he tried to take outme, the notts co bloke, and the ball) is starting to stiffen up. Overby the beer...errm admin tent there's what looks like a st johnsambulance bloke. "gorr 'owt for a dead leg mate?, we're in thesemi final" out comes some KY jelley stuff "just rub it in, but don't scratch your balls for a while"he says with a knowing sort of smile , "keep it moving".This was easy as the 2 litres of water, combined with the nerves, have me walking across the field to the toilets half a dozen times.

The game starts and it's tight, we get quite a few chances, but theirkeeper is playing a blinder. Pete Hodgson goes off with a groinstrain and Simon takes over as right back. I'm starting to get the firstsigns of cramp...shit!

Jez Thomas get through and is fouled, a really blatant one, the refsignals play on and one of their lads on the sidelines says "they don'tlike hard tackles"..I chuckled, oh aye, I thought, go tell the que outside the first aid tent.I'm marking this huge bloke, a real gypo type with an earing so bigI wondered where the parrot out of the middle had gone. I'm tellingya if we'd have gone up for a header, there was a real chance of mefinishing up with this thing round me neck!.A couple of hard (but fair...he was a big bastard) tackles and hetries his luck on the other side.

Penalties.

"who wants to take 'em then" says Jon (our master tactician), my bottle goes "not me mate", I volunteer Daryll, and all the other ladsthat have scored, well, the goals were all class.We're one short, "I'll take it" says Pete Hodgson.

The first three are scored, although the keeper gets a hand to at least one, and is well pissed off. Pete steps up, now bare in mindhe's got a groin strain.....places the ball...runs up...it hits the bar, theforest lads jump up in the air Yesssssss.....then it hits the back of the keeper's head and goes in...they land shit!!!!!!!!!!. Pete calmlywalks back with an ear to ear job on.Then it happens.. Martyn steps up, "on your line keeper" says theref, Martyn just looks at him,"your line keeper" Martyn steps backthe ball is struct...Martyn gets a hand to it....it's a save YESSSSSSSSSSSS...Last penalty, this to win. "there's no shame in missing penalties"I think Robbo says as he steps up "I've seen these missed" a forestlad shouts, Robbo stops looks round towards the Forest teamand says something like "not this fucker" but don't quote me on that.He runs up strikes the ball low and to the keepers right it passes thekeeper and keeps going behind the goal.....he's missed, i think tomyself, thought it was to good to be true, I never win anything, butthen he's running towards the corner flag and does a Klinsman..ina flash we're after him......the ball went through a hole in the sidenetting such a well placed shot we all thought it'd missed.

My god, we could win this.

The final is against QPR, a pub team as it turned out. We have a short break, and I visit the st johns bloke again "any chance of somemore of that stuff mate?, we're in the final now, is it any good forcramp like? "

This game had to have been the longest I've ever played in. Theyseem lively and put us under pressure, we just start to look raggedas the fatigue sets in, but we still have a goal disallowed. They giveaway three free kicks for fouls, and look like there 'up' for this, buteverytime they hit 'the wall' they started to moan.......could this bea lack of character, or are they just whinging southerners :-).

As the half wares on they moan more and more, I reckoned theyexpected to walk all over us.....in these shirts?. They had this Ravioli lookalike who had previously won everything in the air, Rob goes up and wins the header, Ravwhatsit starts toshout at the ref about the challenge, Rob picks up the ball and turnstowards goal. From the half way line Iive got a great view of his runand I get this funny feeling...he takes the ball on a sort of diagonal run with Ravva chasing him trying desperately to get a tackle in, Roblooks up and strikes the ball sweetly straight in, continuing his runand trying one of them forward flip things, failing misserably, "Nahyou do it like this" shout Robbo, and does an even worse one.This was such a good goal, it has a visible effect on the QPR lads.

When they've stops shouting at each other they kick off.

Second Half and I shout "come on lads, we've got one hand on this" But my legs are just about finished and my calf musels feellike they have G clamps on them, and every stretch is another turn.Gavin goes off with cramp and is repaced by James. It seems to bewave after wave of attacks, each time we clear our lines they comestraight back at us. The get through and the balls in the net......ah shitso close I think, but they got through 'cos one of 'em was offside,and Robbo's having none of this "no ref, he was on the goal line"he shouts as he marched purposefully to the ref , the ref goes to thelinesman followed by all the QPR lads, this is '66 stuff......we wait,the ref waves away the QPR lads.....freekick YESSSSSS.

From this point on they were reduced to long range shots, and I decide that I can't run anymore, Rob says he's got cramp, so doesRobbo, then came a magic moment i've dreamed about since Iwas a lad, from the side line came the sound of "Come on Boro,Come on Boro" and I'm wearing my beloved colours. Right, now the opposition might play together regularly, and be fitter than us, but what they didn't have, was a red lion on their chest........at this point i'd have tackled anything that came within two yards of me,Tommy Smith, Vinney Jones, chopper Harris, stuart pearce, a rapide, even Dave Roberts.......ok, maybe not him.Seconds to go, the ball is crossed, surely they can't score now......up jumps BIG Martyn between two players to claim the ball.At last the whistle goes, and I do a Big Jack in '66.This is the best footballing day of my life.

Now for the young lads this was just a great performance, by a setof lads, most of whom hadn't seem each other before, but for me,this meant much, much more. For the last fifteen years I've had thischip on my shoulder about being away from home. If you've neverhad to live away, you won't know what I'm on about, the constantcomments like "this is Mike, he's from the Middlesbrough, well, someone has to be don't they" that make you feel an outsider, evenafter all this time. After about 10 years, I started to notice my family had a slight accent, so you start to feel different at home aswell. This feeling is very difficult to put into words, without soundingbitter and twisted, because I'm not, but on Sunday for the first timein those Fifteen years I felt like I was amongst my OWN. In that onegame of football, those strangers pulled together with a determination you had to see to believe, and it was a privilege tobe a part of.

I would like to thank all the Squad, and the people that came alongto support us, for giving me a memory I will NEVER forget. It wasnot just a small football competition, for me personally, it was likecoming home.

There, I've said it.

Big Al Kerny was once asked, who he would most like to play alongside, he replied, "anyof the other 10 blokes in a Boro shirt" and I agree.

If anyone is still reading this (which I very much doubt) Iapologize if you find it embarrassing, but it was how I felt at the time.

Cheers, Mike.Middlesbrough Cellnetter No 6