I went with my Dad and I'm glad to say he still is a season ticket holder in his 80's,we are additionally joined by my teenage son these days.We avoided Baker Street and went via Marylebone as Wembley Stadium station almost felt like a closely guarded secret in those days.I just remember the game going really quickly and the euphoria I felt afterwards.
It is an occasion that non Charlton fans I have spoken to over the years also remember vividly.A friend of mine recalls watching the game on his own in a hotel bar in Cornwall starting on his own but by the end of extra time he claims the whole pub was entranced.
Another story is from Wembley Park station itself .The local London Underground staff remember the day for the right reasons and the light hearted banter between the fans.Their only complaint was that as they heard the cheers they checked who had scored and as each goal went in they needed to keep changing their plans about exiting from the Stadium as the game went into extra time.
We to went via Marylebone to, very convienient it was to, a few beers at the station bar then onto a not to crowded train to Wembley (15-20 mins), and into the ground 30 mins before KO.
Ha, just looked over this post and realised it's a lot longer than I thought it would be - so thanks in advance anyone who can be bothered to read it!
I was 16, went with my Dad (who I still go to every home game with), my brother and two family friends.
Don't really remember much about the morning - only reading an article about Ilic and Perez, hying them up as important pieces of that days bizarre jigsaw puzzle which, one important save apart, they really weren't! I also remember arriving to a sea of Sunderland fans, and wondering whether any of us had actually bothered to turn up.
It was the second time I'd been to Wembley - the first being England/Spain at Euro '96. I vividly recall making some kind of joke to my dad pre-kick off about not being able to handle another penalty shoot-out... of course the game actually proved to be one great big long penalty shoot out.
Mendonca scored, clearly having read the script, and with a goal that really summed up his season: classy turn/dummy, then made the finish look easy. Went absolutely mental. This is actually happening. We're going to win. My Charlton in the premier league. I never signed up for this, I never expected this, but I'll take it. Thank you.
Then, of course, came the second half. Back to reality. After all these years, having watched the highlights (and occasionally the full game) more times than I care to admit, and knowing full well what the outcome of the game is, watching that Niall Quinn header hit the back of the net STILL knocks the stuffing out of me. How ould I have been so stupid? This was obviously Sunderland's day... then Phillips scored. Of course Phillips scored. Can we just go home now? Oh no, wait, Mendonca. What? Happy to say that I was right in line with him as he took it down with his studs and had a fantastic view of it crossing the line... but of course, Quick as a flash, that Quinn bloke turns up again. Game over...
...then Robinson won a corner, and I remember feeling just a tinge of hope as Micky Gray seemed to be pleading with the ref not to give it. His little bit of fear just about allowed me to think "maybe". It didn't, however, for even one second, lead to believe that the best defender I've ever had the pleasure of watching week-in, week-out would pop up with his first ever goal. Right, something special's going on today. Suddenly I wasn't in the least bit worried or scared at all... we're going to win. Oh, and thank you Lionel Perez for doing... well, whatever the hell it was you were doing! Nutter.
Extra time and Summerbee scores. OH BUZZ OFF (summer bee? Having that? No? Ok, sorry). I tried to say something along the lines of "it's fine, we'll just have to score another goal", but no words or noise came out... then THAT Brown tackle, Kinsella's pass, Jones' (slightly over hit) cross and Mendonca's glorious control and finish... and there's the return of that noise. Football is clearly scripted. Bless whoever wrote the script, while also informing them they owe me some new underwear.
Then penalties... hmmm, from being supremely confident just minutes ago, I've only gone and lost my nerve again. Mendonca will score. Mendonca always scores. Steve Brown? Yeah, probably. Then we've got... oh bugger.
The first two proved me right, and happy to say the next five players proved me wrong. Keith Jones will pass it sideways. Wrong. Kinsella nailed on to hit the bar. Wrong again.
The clearest memory I have of that day though, was Chris Makin's penalty. Ilic got his hands to it, and me and my brother both screamed in celebration. I was certain he'd saved it. We jumped around like idiots until a complete strangers hand came down on my shoulder. "Sorry son, he hasn't saved it". Of course he hadn't saved it. There'll be no saves today.
Back to being proved wrong by Bowen, Robinson, and Newton. By this point I was numb. I was prepared to watch penalties fly in all night. It was gong to take a truly awful penalty to lose this game. Arise Sir Michael of Gray. One last burst of energy from the Charlton fans as we exploded. I grabbed my brother. We took a slight tumble down the stairs, but no harm came to us. We were invincible.
Post match is all a blur, but I remember a Sunderland fan consoling his young son: "Naw we didn't win, but we did score a few gooools". The other memory of the journey back was on the train back to Charlton. A bunch of lads who still had the energy to sing sung "Super Clive Mendonca" ALL the way home. Too drained to join in, I just sat there, listened, and smiled... thinking about tomorrows papers.
A really magical day. Just writing about it has made me all the more aware of just how lucky I am to have been able to experience it.
If I could change one thing about the day? I'd make it tomorrow.
“I remember we had a function that night, but it was as flat a pancake. Nobody wanted to party. Everybody was drained, it had taken so much out of the players, the staff and their families. We’d wanted promotion so badly, but the game just took everything out of us.
“I remember we had a function that night, but it was as flat a pancake. Nobody wanted to party. Everybody was drained, it had taken so much out of the players, the staff and their families. We’d wanted promotion so badly, but the game just took everything out of us.
Having been at that event, I can say it wasn't a wild party, however it was far from a wake.
Jon Champion has the propensity to be quite an annoying commentator, but his calling of that's days event is the definitive version imho... well... aside from Mike Mansfield and Paddy Powell. They've missed his best line off that clip though - "The concept of defeat is quite beyond Charlton's sensibilities".
Still feel my guts dropping every time I see Newt's super short run-up for his penalty, he just looks nailed on to miss from his demeanour but somehow he misses Perez's outstretched arm. Thank fook Grey missed the next one, not sure I fancied who we had left to take!
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I was 16, went with my Dad (who I still go to every home game with), my brother and two family friends.
Don't really remember much about the morning - only reading an article about Ilic and Perez, hying them up as important pieces of that days bizarre jigsaw puzzle which, one important save apart, they really weren't! I also remember arriving to a sea of Sunderland fans, and wondering whether any of us had actually bothered to turn up.
It was the second time I'd been to Wembley - the first being England/Spain at Euro '96. I vividly recall making some kind of joke to my dad pre-kick off about not being able to handle another penalty shoot-out... of course the game actually proved to be one great big long penalty shoot out.
Mendonca scored, clearly having read the script, and with a goal that really summed up his season: classy turn/dummy, then made the finish look easy. Went absolutely mental. This is actually happening. We're going to win. My Charlton in the premier league. I never signed up for this, I never expected this, but I'll take it. Thank you.
Then, of course, came the second half. Back to reality. After all these years, having watched the highlights (and occasionally the full game) more times than I care to admit, and knowing full well what the outcome of the game is, watching that Niall Quinn header hit the back of the net STILL knocks the stuffing out of me. How ould I have been so stupid? This was obviously Sunderland's day... then Phillips scored. Of course Phillips scored. Can we just go home now? Oh no, wait, Mendonca. What? Happy to say that I was right in line with him as he took it down with his studs and had a fantastic view of it crossing the line... but of course, Quick as a flash, that Quinn bloke turns up again. Game over...
...then Robinson won a corner, and I remember feeling just a tinge of hope as Micky Gray seemed to be pleading with the ref not to give it. His little bit of fear just about allowed me to think "maybe". It didn't, however, for even one second, lead to believe that the best defender I've ever had the pleasure of watching week-in, week-out would pop up with his first ever goal. Right, something special's going on today. Suddenly I wasn't in the least bit worried or scared at all... we're going to win. Oh, and thank you Lionel Perez for doing... well, whatever the hell it was you were doing! Nutter.
Extra time and Summerbee scores. OH BUZZ OFF (summer bee? Having that? No? Ok, sorry). I tried to say something along the lines of "it's fine, we'll just have to score another goal", but no words or noise came out... then THAT Brown tackle, Kinsella's pass, Jones' (slightly over hit) cross and Mendonca's glorious control and finish... and there's the return of that noise. Football is clearly scripted. Bless whoever wrote the script, while also informing them they owe me some new underwear.
Then penalties... hmmm, from being supremely confident just minutes ago, I've only gone and lost my nerve again. Mendonca will score. Mendonca always scores. Steve Brown? Yeah, probably. Then we've got... oh bugger.
The first two proved me right, and happy to say the next five players proved me wrong. Keith Jones will pass it sideways. Wrong. Kinsella nailed on to hit the bar. Wrong again.
The clearest memory I have of that day though, was Chris Makin's penalty. Ilic got his hands to it, and me and my brother both screamed in celebration. I was certain he'd saved it. We jumped around like idiots until a complete strangers hand came down on my shoulder. "Sorry son, he hasn't saved it". Of course he hadn't saved it. There'll be no saves today.
Back to being proved wrong by Bowen, Robinson, and Newton. By this point I was numb. I was prepared to watch penalties fly in all night. It was gong to take a truly awful penalty to lose this game. Arise Sir Michael of Gray. One last burst of energy from the Charlton fans as we exploded. I grabbed my brother. We took a slight tumble down the stairs, but no harm came to us. We were invincible.
Post match is all a blur, but I remember a Sunderland fan consoling his young son: "Naw we didn't win, but we did score a few gooools". The other memory of the journey back was on the train back to Charlton. A bunch of lads who still had the energy to sing sung "Super Clive Mendonca" ALL the way home. Too drained to join in, I just sat there, listened, and smiled... thinking about tomorrows papers.
A really magical day. Just writing about it has made me all the more aware of just how lucky I am to have been able to experience it.
If I could change one thing about the day? I'd make it tomorrow.
Mark Bright quote:-
“I remember we had a function that night, but it was as flat a pancake. Nobody wanted to party. Everybody was drained, it had taken so much out of the players, the staff and their families. We’d wanted promotion so badly, but the game just took everything out of us.
Still feel my guts dropping every time I see Newt's super short run-up for his penalty, he just looks nailed on to miss from his demeanour but somehow he misses Perez's outstretched arm. Thank fook Grey missed the next one, not sure I fancied who we had left to take!
brilliant from Clive.
Mills 3
Youds 5
Rufus 5
Bowen 6
Newton 6
Jones 5
Kinsella 5
Robinson 4
Bright 3
Mendonca 2