err, I got thrown out in the 2nd
half for punching a Mackem in our seats who was giving it large as they scored,
managed to bolt through the open gates towards the end to see them lift the
trophy from the olympic gallery.
Looking back silly thing to do, but that’s what I was like then, up for
anything, you can hear it mentioned on the official radio commentary tape.
Going 3-2 down and our end being silenced, everybody just watching
gloomily as the clock ticked down and it seemed we'd blown our chance.
"The drum, we need the drum," we shouted, and moments later the
drummers were banging again and the Addicted came back to life. The atmosphere
rose as we forced a corner and Rufus, high above his marker, rammed his header
home.
I was 13 at the time. I can’t
even remember how we got there I’m sure it was coach. Had my hair dyed red.
I can recall a couple of makem fans before the game telling us in the strongest
of accents 'don't worry we'll keep it to 5 nil'. We were well outnumbered on
Wembley Way.
We were standing directly behind the goal, about half way up. Don’t know if
anyone else saw this but there was a Sunderland fan about 10 rows down from us
with big Sunderland flag up at us waving his flag and generally taunting
everyone, when this huge bloke bursting out of his XXL shirt went strolling
down and gave him the most casual smack in the gob you would ever see. Cant
remember what happened to the Mackem but we didn't see him after that. The
bloke that hit him went back to his seat. Someone who was with us asked the
steward if he was going to do anything and he said 'sod that i don't get paid
enough'.
After the penalty save even at such a young age i can remember looking round at
my dad who had been going to Charlton all his life and taking me to most games
he could and seeing him with eyes full of tears and a big red face. He was
shouting at me 'we've done it Andy!' My dad’s face at that moment was a picture
i never will forget!
The most amazing day- Lived in
Stanmore at the time and at 10am or so, decided that i'd take my eldest, well
only at the time, for a cooked breafast in the sainsbury at kenton. Walked in
there in my Charlton top (very rare that i wear colours), to see every seat
taken by Makems who had used it as a car park to take the tube to Wembley, and
didn't they looked really nervous as they so expected to win.
Decided that it wasn't the best place for a quiet father/daughter moment and
went elsewhere.
My (then) wife and i got to Wembley about 1.15- went into the ground- what a
lovely day, amazing match- Rufus's first goal, Mendonca, tears of joy et al-
that's all been done.
The silence as we walked out of Wembley, the memory of the goodwill between us
and the Sunderland fans, us consoling them and them congratulaing us still
makes me go dewy eyed.
When we got home, baring in mind this isn't Charlton, three sets of neighbours
( who weren't even really that friendly) came out and congratulated us as we
pulled in to our driveway. Later on,I decided to go for a walk to calm down,
even then, had cars tooting me, still in my colours, and giving me the thumbs
up.
Went to the game with my
parents and sister, her Gooner boyfriend, a couple of his Charlton supporting
mates, and a random friend of hers from university, who was roped in a couple
of days before when someone else dropped out. Due to a slight cock up in
organisation over buying tickets we were split into two groups of 4 about 6
rows apart behind the goal, with Gooner and one friend sat with my parents, and
me sat with my sister and the other two. Had several conversations with
Sunderland fans before the game, and the general consensus was that it'd
probably be a tight match, and just the one goal would probably settle it, as
both our defences had been playing out of their skins recently. How wrong can
you be?
Can't really remember much about the first 90 minutes at all, apart from the
combination of utter relief and elation when the equaliser went in to make it
3-3, and trying to work out who the hell had scored as it was down the far end.
Was gutted when Sunderland got their 4th, as wasn't sure that we could come
back yet again. And then that crunching tackle came in from Steve Brown (you
could practically hear it from where we were), Steve Jones crossed, and
Mendonca somehow turned and thumped the ball in the back of the net. I jumped
up so quickly at that point I actually felt a bit dizzy.
At the end of extra time it was decided that my sister's boyfriend would come
and sit with us, as every time something exciting happened she'd grab hold of
my arm and squeeze it half to death, and I didn't think I'd survive the
penalties in one piece. The penalties were taken down the other end, so it was
a bit surreal as there was always a slight delay between the ball going in and
the cheers reaching us. Ilic got a hand to one of their penalties (Makin?) but
then the cheer from the Mackems meant we knew it had gone in. It was too much
to hope for that Rae would miss his, so then we were down to sudden death.
If I'd known that Robbo had never scored from a competitive penalty before, and
had only taken about 3 or 4 ever in his career, I think I'd have been more
worried, but with Shaun Newton I felt physically ill. There was something about
the way he walked / jogged up to the area, combined with the short run up, that
just screamed "he's gonna miss this". And then Gray scuffed his
penalty, Sasha held on to it, and I completely missed the bundle of players on
the pitch as I was too busy jumping up and down and hugging my sister, her
boyfriend and her random mate.
As others have said, after all that we were knackered, and it was a very quiet
journey home. In fact one of our neighbours assumed we must've lost from the
way we looked when we got back. Then having got our second wind, and it being a
lovely evening, we took a few bottles, cans and nibbles and had a mini celebration
on the heath outside the Princess of Wales. The pub was absolutely chock full
of Charlton fans, and I think they were showing the game on the screen again,
and every now and then a car would go past with a red flag or scarf fluttering
from the window, and a cheer would go up from those gathered outside. It was a
great night, and I wouldn't have missed it for the world.
Never ever to be forgotten from
the flags in the car in the morning to the packed train to the hundreds upon
thousands of Sunderland at Charing X and Baker Street where we stopped for
lunch. The game itself and also being emotionally drained on the way home. I
remember having to stop for water and chocolate as I felt I was going to
collapse. Getting home and having beers in the local and being congratulated by
virtually everyone. What a day!
How exhausting was it just watching that match! For me it really set in stone
what had been started by getting back to the Valley - Charlton was a club that
wanted to live not just exist.
Still
love seeing Mark Brights 'block' on Perez from the corner for The Roofs header
and his hissy fit at the ref after.
From my route in I dont think I saw a
Charlton shirt until about 2.45.Just surrounded by Red and White stripes.I even
had one keeping my seat warm for me,who actually refused to budge at first.
But
its true about the lack of expectation, that made it even greater.
I went with my 3 daughters. It
was the first game for the youngest one who accompanies me now. Her second game
was Sittingbourne away the following pre season, the sublime to the ridiculous!
Others have described the emotion of the day as well if not better than me. My
brother and his wife were with us and I remember hugging my family members and
complete strangers who were behind and in front of us. It was a surreal
experience as was the eerie silence, shock whateever you want to call it as we
finally left.
I just want to salute the Supporters Club, Wendy Perfect in particular, for
coordinating things and Kevin Banks for his efforts in making the coach trip
from Gas Hill Rochester an enjoyable one.
There have been well documented political differences over the years regarding
the supporters club, branches, independent this, independent that, blah, blah
BUT this was a day the whole Charlton Community pulled together, a reward after
the tribulations of the previous decade and more.
I don't think we will ever surpass that day in terms of supporter unity.
One of the best days of my
life. A day I thought I'd never see in my Charlton supporting life. Seeing us
win such an important game at Wembley and in 'The greatest game' as it has been
billed since. I'm not sure if us winning the F.A. Cup would beat that day.
I took my lad to the toilet at half time and said "that's it for the
goals, we've won, they won't score, look at all the clean sheets we've kept,
they can't....... 1-0, we're up son!"
He reminded me on the way home in a 'what the fook do you know about football'
kind of way.
An amazing day, every one of them hero's. Brownies tackle, Steve Jones run and
cross for the 4th, Keith Jones ball for the 2nd, Kinsella's clenched fist
urging them on.
Mate of mine sat down after a few pens as he couldn’t take it anymore. He just sat and took his info from the crowd reaction to each pen.
On the tube tube home I sat with some Sunderland fans. Obviously disappointed, one said “keep our Prem place warm for us pal” He was eventually proved right.
I couldn't watch the penalties so I left my bemused wife and headed out of the old stadium to one of the concrete stairs leading into the ground. I thought I would be the only oddball but there were dozens of us. We chatted until someone joined who said the penalties were at the far end and we were going first. Each time we heard a loud roar (we scored) followed after an agonising wait by a more distant one (Sunderland scored). At 4-3 there was a flashing moment of joy as Illic got a hand to one and a roar started only to subside just as quickly. 4-4. The tension grew and as it did we were joined by a few more who couldn't take it any more. I won't forget the explosion of sound at 7-6 as Illic saved Grey's kick ... we all leapt up, hugged, and then flooded back to join in the celebrations.
The moment that Sasa stopped that woeful penalty is seared into my memory as indelibly as any other I care to recall. In that split second, as the ball didn’t touch the net (emphatically heightened by the previous 13 all finding their mark), I realised our world had changed. We would be seeing some of the greatest footballers in the world come to The Valley. That I would be able to banter with my friends in a way I’d never previously been able. That the club would get rich after years of hardship that defined my time as a supporter.
All of that went through my mind for the first time, and that was before I even turned to hug March51. We shared some amazing times in the 30 years we spent going together, and I suspect we’d both agree that was the very best.
We’d sat in almost identical seats to see Colin Hendry break my 8-year-old heart a decade earlier. We’d experienced the trauma of relegation and play off defeat. Of anonymity. And finally we were doing what we’d honestly never dreamed of.
We stayed until the very end. We were among the last stragglers to leave the stadium, utterly gobsmacked by what had transpired. I don’t remember a single thing from the moment we reached the station as me made our way home. But I do remember every single second of the previous five hours, and no matter what happens this weekend, I’ll never forget it.
I'd been doing a game here and there each season with Charlton yet prior to the 1997/98 season I did one of their School Holiday Schools @ Crook Log (Had done a few over the years) but this time got free tickets to the Bradford City game which we won 4-1, went to about 10 games that season which I always see as my first proper year as a Charlton fan... Always kept the ticket stubs and from memory one of the later restricted ticket sales for Wembley was that you had to have been to X number of games, yet when buying the ticket you had to prove this and take them along.
Because it was a school day my Mum woke up @ 4am, got a taxi and went down to the Valley... Stood in line for hours for me when she heard a load of people talking about Clive Mendonca, know she knew nothing about Charlton like she does now so piped up with a comment "Who's Clive Mendonca", its something we've jokingly never let her forget at home, especially as at the time of her saying it, a load of actual fans apparently turned and looked at her wondering how on earth she didnt know who he was!!
Day of the game I remember it clear as day, my Mum and Dad walked down to Park View Road with me where some fan coaches were waiting, remember heading down Gipsy Road (before the footbridge over the train tracks) and seeing signs in people's windows ("Come on Charlton" etc.) - Was my first ever away game and being on my own had to sit on a coach with a load of unknowns but in true Charlton fashion everyone was brilliant with me that I spoke to on the journey up to Wembley - Dont really remember much pre-game other than the fact that I went straight to the bottom of the steps (?) whilst I waited for the turnstiles to open, then went straight to my seat
The game itself is extremely vague, although I remember thinking that the game had gone right before Richard Rufus made it 3-3... As for the penalties could barely see them from where I was as everyone was standing up so I was basically reacting along with the rest of the crowd, certainly remember dancing around when we won though, yet was never able to see the players lifting the trophy (again people in the way) - Not long after that I left the Stadium (Got called a bastard by a Sunderland fan who was walking past me) and went back to where the coaches were as thought that was it so missed a lot of the players celebrating on the pitch - Partly because I didnt realise they would and was partly terrified that the coach would return back home without me
I have two regrets from 1998 that I really hope to put right this year!!
(1) That I get plenty of photos of the day, I've got nothing to look back on at all bar my own memory which am sure will fade as I get older (2) Its out of my hands but if we do win... I aint leaving my seat until those players have well and truly left the pitch!!
I have two regrets from 1998 that I really hope to put right this year!!
(1) That I get plenty of photos of the day, I've got nothing to look back on at all bar my own memory which am sure will fade as I get older (2) Its out of my hands but if we do win... I aint leaving my seat until those players have well and truly left the pitch!!
Thinking back to 98, cameraphones didn't exist then, or for indeed digital cameras either! A very different world to today when there will be thousands of photos taken by spectators
I have two regrets from 1998 that I really hope to put right this year!!
(1) That I get plenty of photos of the day, I've got nothing to look back on at all bar my own memory which am sure will fade as I get older (2) Its out of my hands but if we do win... I aint leaving my seat until those players have well and truly left the pitch!!
Thinking back to 98, cameraphones didn't exist then, or for indeed digital cameras either! A very different world to today when there will be thousands of photos taken by spectators
Yeah its the only comfort I get from that first point
I don’t have any either, FA, which is unusual as March51 was obsessed with shooting pics at Charlton from 1985 onwards. But I don’t mind - our memories are good enough.
Good memories, above all I remember the tension. I'd never understood before how mental tiredness could drain you, but after the match I (and most other people) was spent, indeed it probably wouldn't have been obvious to an onlooker which team had won!
I was 26 and coming back from a 6 month trip in India and just made it for the Final. I still remember it like it was yesterday with the trip up on the train, wearing red and white wigs, everyone around us mentioning the 7-6 result at Huddersfield as Sasa Ilic made the save and going absolutely bonkers after we won. Going to try and replicate what I wore on the day ( will have to suck it in to get my Charlton top on ) as I have a few pics from that beautiful day out.
I was 13, about to turn 14 that summer. I had gotten tonnes of stick over the years from my friends who all supported big clubs and I had even considered switching to United a few times just to stop the abuse.
Charlton may as well have been playing in Timbuktu for the amount of coverage they got back then. I would read the score and lineup the next day in the papers and I could get the scores on teletext and remember how painful it was waiting for full time to be confirmed, there would be three pages for each division and it took ages to go all the way back around to Charltons game. I only remember seeing them on tv two times before the playoffs that year, the United cup quarter final and a league game on a Friday night in which I believe Ricky Otto played, or maybe he had been on loan and returned before that game.
The day of the game was tricky. Its not a bank holiday in Ireland so I had to go to school, and my dad had to work. My last class was history. I missed the first half, he missed the whole thing. I ran home from school and checked the score on teletext and saw that Super Clive had given us the lead at half time. We didn't have sky at the time but my dad had arranged for me to be allowed to watch it in his local. I made it there before the start of the second half and I'm fairly certain I was the only person there other than the owner.
I don't remember much about the game, other than the crazy back and forth nature, and being sure it was over at 3-2 before Rufus scored. Couldn't believe he of all people scored, his first ever in the biggest ever game. Obviously I've rewatched it, or the highlights dozens of times since. I'm always struck by how different the game looked. Frees not even given for things that would be a straight red card today.
Watching Sasa save that penalty and then the pile on. I think I ran around the pub like a demon child and did a Klinsmann on one of the couches.
Seeing Mark Kinsella go up to lift the trophy was an incredible feeling! Finally we were Premier League and my friends couldn't give me any more stick.... of course that didn't last long, and relegation the next year didn't help but I felt so much more confident about Charlton and my support of them after that day.
I remember my dad calling the pub to check the score and make sure I was alright and the owner telling him we'd lost or were losing before telling him the truth.
My mate and I drank in the Princess of Wales at Charing Cross. There were few Charlton on the tube on the way up and I remember distinctly Sunderland fans were singing ......... five fans , you've only got five fans .
I remember seeing a small group of "senior "( agewise ) Charlton boys being escorted / followed by plod everywhere.
Much of the game is a blur. One thing is etched on my memory is like 5 seconds of an old cine film. I was on the side of the ground where the corner for Rufus' goal was scored. Behind the goal line but past the corner flag. I remember Rufus rising and hanging in the air for what seemed like an age. In my minds eye he was head and shoulders above the defenders, and the ball hit the back of the net. Cue pandamonium.
Hugging people you have never met happens rarely in my experience.Football is the exception and on that day there was much of that going round
It was hot and I was dry. At the end of the game I was exhausted beyond belief, dehydrated , and strangely deflated. Id been there to witness one of the greatest Wembley games , saw my team, who I first watch in 82 go up and yet I had no words
Walking down Wembley Way a Maccam congratulated me and we shook hands. I think we both knew that we had witnessed something that would stand the test of time as one of the great Wembley games. He wished us good luck for the next season and we went our separate ways
On Sunday my sixteen year old daughter is joining me for the day. She will sing the songs and whatever happens I think we will enjoy / endure an experience that will be part of our shared life forever.
Perhaps only football can offer such a thing ; I'm ever so proud that my team is Charlton Athletic and looking forward to seeing 39,000 others like me in a few days time
I was about 22, met at me mates house in Charlton, on the booze from about 9am, on the coach from Charlton, absolute pests, asking to stop by the time we got to Deptford, finally the coach stopped on one of the bridges and we all piled out for a pee.
Offy for more booze when we got there, got in ground about 15 mins before kick off, then just wow.
Literally had to go downstairs during Extra Time, at 22 years of age my heart wasnt feeling good, id gone through the mill during that game.
Even after it hadnt sunk, in, premier league, FFS, lil ol Charlton back up there again.
Think we went back to the Newbridge club in the end but missus was 6 months pregnant at the time and didnt want to be out too late (got my orders)
Just an amazing day
This time, my eldest boys 23, my daughters 20, my youngest boy 7, and an unpregnant missus (fingers crossed) all in tow, after we have curry house booked and hopefully no curfew.
Im like a 5 year old counting the sleeps to Christmas
Was there with my Dad who sadly passed away 20 months ago but not with my then only son who was on hols with his Mum. We weren't season ticket holders at that time and have to thank Wendy Perfect for sorting us out tickets for what was the most memorable game in my 55 years of supporting the Club.
One thing that has only just struck me watching the highlights again was something to do with the penalty takers that day.
Like many, I have held a theory about left footed penalty takers not being as successful as their counterparts - the actual difference over time is only 0.1% but, as on Friday, when two of the pens missed were left footers my own conscious bias kicked in yet again.
Michael Gray was the first to take one left footed that afternoon - and of course missed. But Mark Bowen, who had played the vast majority of his career at left back, had already taken one - with his right foot.
Bowen clearly knew. And Sarr, Purrington and any other lefties must not be allowed to take one on Sunday either!
Was in the stadium having a beer with friends and family when a chap stuck a huge grey fluffy micro[phone under my nose and asked me what I thought the result would be. Tried to remain calm and spouted the standard guff about two good teams, both on form and ended it opining that it would be a tight game with us edging it 1-0. At half time I was considering a career in punditry - yeah right! Phoned my brother-in-law to tell him I had just been interviewed. So, the next day we had a celebratory BBQ and he put on a tape of what we thought was music - but no, he'd recorded the interview and played at top volume.
I remember me, my late dad and brother had about nine pints each in various pubs before the game. We were all stone cold sober by the time it went to penalties.
Comments
XXX
err, I got thrown out in the 2nd half for punching a Mackem in our seats who was giving it large as they scored, managed to bolt through the open gates towards the end to see them lift the trophy from the olympic gallery.
Looking back silly thing to do, but that’s what I was like then, up for anything, you can hear it mentioned on the official radio commentary tape.
@Oggy Red
Going 3-2 down and our end being silenced, everybody just watching gloomily as the clock ticked down and it seemed we'd blown our chance.
"The drum, we need the drum," we shouted, and moments later the drummers were banging again and the Addicted came back to life. The atmosphere rose as we forced a corner and Rufus, high above his marker, rammed his header home.
@carlsberg
I was 13 at the time. I can’t even remember how we got there I’m sure it was coach. Had my hair dyed red.
I can recall a couple of makem fans before the game telling us in the strongest of accents 'don't worry we'll keep it to 5 nil'. We were well outnumbered on Wembley Way.
We were standing directly behind the goal, about half way up. Don’t know if anyone else saw this but there was a Sunderland fan about 10 rows down from us with big Sunderland flag up at us waving his flag and generally taunting everyone, when this huge bloke bursting out of his XXL shirt went strolling down and gave him the most casual smack in the gob you would ever see. Cant remember what happened to the Mackem but we didn't see him after that. The bloke that hit him went back to his seat. Someone who was with us asked the steward if he was going to do anything and he said 'sod that i don't get paid enough'.
After the penalty save even at such a young age i can remember looking round at my dad who had been going to Charlton all his life and taking me to most games he could and seeing him with eyes full of tears and a big red face. He was shouting at me 'we've done it Andy!' My dad’s face at that moment was a picture i never will forget!
@StanmoreAddick
The most amazing day- Lived in Stanmore at the time and at 10am or so, decided that i'd take my eldest, well only at the time, for a cooked breafast in the sainsbury at kenton. Walked in there in my Charlton top (very rare that i wear colours), to see every seat taken by Makems who had used it as a car park to take the tube to Wembley, and didn't they looked really nervous as they so expected to win.
Decided that it wasn't the best place for a quiet father/daughter moment and went elsewhere.
My (then) wife and i got to Wembley about 1.15- went into the ground- what a lovely day, amazing match- Rufus's first goal, Mendonca, tears of joy et al- that's all been done.
The silence as we walked out of Wembley, the memory of the goodwill between us and the Sunderland fans, us consoling them and them congratulaing us still makes me go dewy eyed.
When we got home, baring in mind this isn't Charlton, three sets of neighbours ( who weren't even really that friendly) came out and congratulated us as we pulled in to our driveway. Later on,I decided to go for a walk to calm down, even then, had cars tooting me, still in my colours, and giving me the thumbs up.
Truely amazing day
@aliwibble
Went to the game with my parents and sister, her Gooner boyfriend, a couple of his Charlton supporting mates, and a random friend of hers from university, who was roped in a couple of days before when someone else dropped out. Due to a slight cock up in organisation over buying tickets we were split into two groups of 4 about 6 rows apart behind the goal, with Gooner and one friend sat with my parents, and me sat with my sister and the other two. Had several conversations with Sunderland fans before the game, and the general consensus was that it'd probably be a tight match, and just the one goal would probably settle it, as both our defences had been playing out of their skins recently. How wrong can you be?
Can't really remember much about the first 90 minutes at all, apart from the combination of utter relief and elation when the equaliser went in to make it 3-3, and trying to work out who the hell had scored as it was down the far end. Was gutted when Sunderland got their 4th, as wasn't sure that we could come back yet again. And then that crunching tackle came in from Steve Brown (you could practically hear it from where we were), Steve Jones crossed, and Mendonca somehow turned and thumped the ball in the back of the net. I jumped up so quickly at that point I actually felt a bit dizzy.
At the end of extra time it was decided that my sister's boyfriend would come and sit with us, as every time something exciting happened she'd grab hold of my arm and squeeze it half to death, and I didn't think I'd survive the penalties in one piece. The penalties were taken down the other end, so it was a bit surreal as there was always a slight delay between the ball going in and the cheers reaching us. Ilic got a hand to one of their penalties (Makin?) but then the cheer from the Mackems meant we knew it had gone in. It was too much to hope for that Rae would miss his, so then we were down to sudden death.
If I'd known that Robbo had never scored from a competitive penalty before, and had only taken about 3 or 4 ever in his career, I think I'd have been more worried, but with Shaun Newton I felt physically ill. There was something about the way he walked / jogged up to the area, combined with the short run up, that just screamed "he's gonna miss this". And then Gray scuffed his penalty, Sasha held on to it, and I completely missed the bundle of players on the pitch as I was too busy jumping up and down and hugging my sister, her boyfriend and her random mate.
As others have said, after all that we were knackered, and it was a very quiet journey home. In fact one of our neighbours assumed we must've lost from the way we looked when we got back. Then having got our second wind, and it being a lovely evening, we took a few bottles, cans and nibbles and had a mini celebration on the heath outside the Princess of Wales. The pub was absolutely chock full of Charlton fans, and I think they were showing the game on the screen again, and every now and then a car would go past with a red flag or scarf fluttering from the window, and a cheer would go up from those gathered outside. It was a great night, and I wouldn't have missed it for the world.
@Spankie
Never ever to be forgotten from the flags in the car in the morning to the packed train to the hundreds upon thousands of Sunderland at Charing X and Baker Street where we stopped for lunch. The game itself and also being emotionally drained on the way home. I remember having to stop for water and chocolate as I felt I was going to collapse. Getting home and having beers in the local and being congratulated by virtually everyone. What a day!
@Sco
How exhausting was it just watching that match! For me it really set in stone what had been started by getting back to the Valley - Charlton was a club that wanted to live not just exist.
The Equaliser
Still love seeing Mark Brights 'block' on Perez from the corner for The Roofs header and his hissy fit at the ref after.From my route in I dont think I saw a Charlton shirt until about 2.45.Just surrounded by Red and White stripes.I even had one keeping my seat warm for me,who actually refused to budge at first.
But its true about the lack of expectation, that made it even greater.
@LenGlover
I went with my 3 daughters. It was the first game for the youngest one who accompanies me now. Her second game was Sittingbourne away the following pre season, the sublime to the ridiculous!
Others have described the emotion of the day as well if not better than me. My brother and his wife were with us and I remember hugging my family members and complete strangers who were behind and in front of us. It was a surreal experience as was the eerie silence, shock whateever you want to call it as we finally left.
I just want to salute the Supporters Club, Wendy Perfect in particular, for coordinating things and Kevin Banks for his efforts in making the coach trip from Gas Hill Rochester an enjoyable one.
There have been well documented political differences over the years regarding the supporters club, branches, independent this, independent that, blah, blah BUT this was a day the whole Charlton Community pulled together, a reward after the tribulations of the previous decade and more.
I don't think we will ever surpass that day in terms of supporter unity.
@Stone
One of the best days of my life. A day I thought I'd never see in my Charlton supporting life. Seeing us win such an important game at Wembley and in 'The greatest game' as it has been billed since. I'm not sure if us winning the F.A. Cup would beat that day.
I took my lad to the toilet at half time and said "that's it for the goals, we've won, they won't score, look at all the clean sheets we've kept, they can't....... 1-0, we're up son!"
He reminded me on the way home in a 'what the fook do you know about football' kind of way.
An amazing day, every one of them hero's. Brownies tackle, Steve Jones run and cross for the 4th, Keith Jones ball for the 2nd, Kinsella's clenched fist urging them on.
WONDERFULL, BLOODY WONDERFULL.
He just sat and took his info from the crowd reaction to each pen.
On the tube tube home I sat with some Sunderland fans. Obviously disappointed, one said “keep our Prem place warm for us pal”
He was eventually proved right.
The moment that Sasa stopped that woeful penalty is seared into my memory as indelibly as any other I care to recall. In that split second, as the ball didn’t touch the net (emphatically heightened by the previous 13 all finding their mark), I realised our world had changed. We would be seeing some of the greatest footballers in the world come to The Valley. That I would be able to banter with my friends in a way I’d never previously been able. That the club would get rich after years of hardship that defined my time as a supporter.
All of that went through my mind for the first time, and that was before I even turned to hug March51. We shared some amazing times in the 30 years we spent going together, and I suspect we’d both agree that was the very best.
We’d sat in almost identical seats to see Colin Hendry break my 8-year-old heart a decade earlier. We’d experienced the trauma of relegation and play off defeat. Of anonymity. And finally we were doing what we’d honestly never dreamed of.
We stayed until the very end. We were among the last stragglers to leave the stadium, utterly gobsmacked by what had transpired. I don’t remember a single thing from the moment we reached the station as me made our way home. But I do remember every single second of the previous five hours, and no matter what happens this weekend, I’ll never forget it.
I'd been doing a game here and there each season with Charlton yet prior to the 1997/98 season I did one of their School Holiday Schools @ Crook Log (Had done a few over the years) but this time got free tickets to the Bradford City game which we won 4-1, went to about 10 games that season which I always see as my first proper year as a Charlton fan... Always kept the ticket stubs and from memory one of the later restricted ticket sales for Wembley was that you had to have been to X number of games, yet when buying the ticket you had to prove this and take them along.
Because it was a school day my Mum woke up @ 4am, got a taxi and went down to the Valley... Stood in line for hours for me when she heard a load of people talking about Clive Mendonca, know she knew nothing about Charlton like she does now so piped up with a comment "Who's Clive Mendonca", its something we've jokingly never let her forget at home, especially as at the time of her saying it, a load of actual fans apparently turned and looked at her wondering how on earth she didnt know who he was!!
Day of the game I remember it clear as day, my Mum and Dad walked down to Park View Road with me where some fan coaches were waiting, remember heading down Gipsy Road (before the footbridge over the train tracks) and seeing signs in people's windows ("Come on Charlton" etc.) - Was my first ever away game and being on my own had to sit on a coach with a load of unknowns but in true Charlton fashion everyone was brilliant with me that I spoke to on the journey up to Wembley - Dont really remember much pre-game other than the fact that I went straight to the bottom of the steps (?) whilst I waited for the turnstiles to open, then went straight to my seat
The game itself is extremely vague, although I remember thinking that the game had gone right before Richard Rufus made it 3-3... As for the penalties could barely see them from where I was as everyone was standing up so I was basically reacting along with the rest of the crowd, certainly remember dancing around when we won though, yet was never able to see the players lifting the trophy (again people in the way) - Not long after that I left the Stadium (Got called a bastard by a Sunderland fan who was walking past me) and went back to where the coaches were as thought that was it so missed a lot of the players celebrating on the pitch - Partly because I didnt realise they would and was partly terrified that the coach would return back home without me
I have two regrets from 1998 that I really hope to put right this year!!
(1) That I get plenty of photos of the day, I've got nothing to look back on at all bar my own memory which am sure will fade as I get older
(2) Its out of my hands but if we do win... I aint leaving my seat until those players have well and truly left the pitch!!
I remember seeing a small group of "senior "( agewise ) Charlton boys being escorted / followed by plod everywhere.
Much of the game is a blur. One thing is etched on my memory is like 5 seconds of an old cine film. I was on the side of the ground where the corner for Rufus' goal was scored. Behind the goal line but past the corner flag. I remember Rufus rising and hanging in the air for what seemed like an age. In my minds eye he was head and shoulders above the defenders, and the ball hit the back of the net. Cue pandamonium.
Hugging people you have never met happens rarely in my experience.Football is the exception and on that day there was much of that going round
It was hot and I was dry. At the end of the game I was exhausted beyond belief, dehydrated , and strangely deflated. Id been there to witness one of the greatest Wembley games , saw my team, who I first watch in 82 go up and yet I had no words
Walking down Wembley Way a Maccam congratulated me and we shook hands. I think we both knew that we had witnessed something that would stand the test of time as one of the great Wembley games. He wished us good luck for the next season and we went our separate ways
On Sunday my sixteen year old daughter is joining me for the day. She will sing the songs and whatever happens I think we will enjoy / endure an experience that will be part of our shared life forever.
Perhaps only football can offer such a thing ; I'm ever so proud that my team is Charlton Athletic and looking forward to seeing 39,000 others like me in a few days time
Offy for more booze when we got there, got in ground about 15 mins before kick off, then just wow.
Literally had to go downstairs during Extra Time, at 22 years of age my heart wasnt feeling good, id gone through the mill during that game.
Even after it hadnt sunk, in, premier league, FFS, lil ol Charlton back up there again.
Think we went back to the Newbridge club in the end but missus was 6 months pregnant at the time and didnt want to be out too late (got my orders)
Just an amazing day
This time, my eldest boys 23, my daughters 20, my youngest boy 7, and an unpregnant missus (fingers crossed) all in tow, after we have curry house booked and hopefully no curfew.
Im like a 5 year old counting the sleeps to Christmas
One thing that has only just struck me watching the highlights again was something to do with the penalty takers that day.
Like many, I have held a theory about left footed penalty takers not being as successful as their counterparts - the actual difference over time is only 0.1% but, as on Friday, when two of the pens missed were left footers my own conscious bias kicked in yet again.
Michael Gray was the first to take one left footed that afternoon - and of course missed. But Mark Bowen, who had played the vast majority of his career at left back, had already taken one - with his right foot.
Bowen clearly knew. And Sarr, Purrington and any other lefties must not be allowed to take one on Sunday either!