May 6th 1978 saw the mighty Ipswich Town Football Club take on Arsenal in one of the most one sided cup finals of all time. The day started with me sitting on the bottom of the stairs crying because my dad wouldn’t take me with him to Wembley, the words he said that morning stuck with me for 23 years, “don’t worry son your day will come”. After the tears had subsided I walked to the newsagents to get my regular Saturday morning fix of a quarter of pear drops, a can of shandy bass and the latest issue of Roy of the Rovers.
On the way back from the paper shop I called at the Hogan’s (it was round their house I found out England failed to qualify for the world cup in Argentina) and had a game of football on the grass at the top of my road. I went in goal and Patrick and Michael slugged it out in a game of World Cup Singles.
An hour later they were fighting so home I trundled to watch Tiswas and to read if Mr Race could shake of his badly broken leg and temporary blindness to score the last minute winner for Melchester Rovers. After 2 and a half hours of Chris Tarrant, Lenny Henry, The Phantom Flan Flinger and the gorgeous Sally James (the first woman I ever fancied), I was ready for Dickie Davies and the World of Sport team and the build up to the cup final.
Unfortunately tragedy was to strike! Yes it was mashed potatoes for dinner. I threw a bit of a tantrum and refused to eat what my mother had lovingly prepared for me. I was sent to my room being told that I was to stay there for the rest of the day. In those days we were lucky to have a bed each let alone half of Dixons showrooms so I couldn’t even sneakily watch upstairs.
For the next 2 hours I cried my little eyes out (don’t forget I was only 8). Luckily Mother let me come down stairs at ten to three just as Micky Mills was introducing the team to that years free loading Royal. I sat on the rug next to Paddington my cat and was enthralled as the Blues dished out the biggest 1-0 hiding ever seen at Wembley.
The day ended with me being sent to bed again because I threw Paddington across the room when Roger slotted the ball past big Pat Jennings. I wasn’t even allowed down again to see Tom Baker knock fuck out of the Cybermen!
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