by Amy Lawrence
MATTHEW CYZER:
I covered for my sister, Amy, who went. Had a row with my girlfriend when I said I wasn’t going round. Watched it alone on TV. Put the phone receiver against the TV with two minutes to go so Dad, who was abroad, could hear the end. Writhed around on the floor when we scored. Went out to the Bull and Bush where Arsenal fans had started gathering to get pissed. Ran down the road at 5 a.m. to welcome Amy home from Anfield.
PAUL CARTER:
I joined the Daily Star in November 1988 as a sub-editor on sport. It was my first job on a national. My early memories of the day was that shortly after getting in at around 4 p.m., the death of Don Revie was announced, but, despite this, the night was going very smoothly until kick-off time.
Off-stone timings, the point at which no more changes can be made, were always tight for us on match nights. But the plan was to fill the paper during the evening and leave the back page and the inside two pages clear for the game. The deputy sports editor, a legend called Ian Stirrup, was running the desk. Stirro was a massive Liverpool fan and had the air of someone who thought the night would be smooth as you like and he could start celebrating as soon as the paper was done.
Ian drew up two back pages, one for an Arsenal win, one for a Liverpool win and we would have copy for both. The inside spread was drawn up to allow for a couple of big pictures and a slot for the match. It was just another night in the office. The closer we came to the final whistle the more straightforward things looked. Our man covering the game would file on 80 minutes and it would be a case of subbing it up and waiting for an intro and four pars on the whistle, and getting it away as fast as we could because the presses were holding for us. I remember seeing a spread headline along the lines of: KENNY’S CROWNING GLORY.
When Mickey scored I jumped about three foot in the air and hugged a messenger I didn’t know. Then somehow I got a grip because we had a job to do. The Kenny headline was changed in a flash to: BY GEORGE THEY’VE DONE IT.
RICHARD GREENE:
When we scored the winner our very possessive poodle thought I was attacking the wife so he bit my leg. I have kept that tracksuit with the hole in them all these years and I’ve still got the scar.
JAMES BARKER:
It was very tense in our living room. I admitted defeat with five minutes to go and actually turned the VCR off. I was gutted. David Pleat said maybe poetic justice had been done with Arsenal winning on the night but Liverpool taking the title. My dad always said he was full of piss and wind. Then came the goal and we both lost it.
PHIL GIBBS:
I only just made it home in time for kick-off. Sensational commentary from legendary Brian Moore (I had been at UEA with his son Simon). The blessed goal. My girlfriend (non football fan) was in the bath upstairs. I leapt in the air punching upwards and thereby smashing the lounge chandelier and fusing all the lights in the house, but thankfully not the TV. My girlfriend shouted from the darkness ‘what the hell is going on?’
JOE JAGGER:
My mum just went ballistic, which was totally out of character. She jumped up and down like a mad lady.
JAMES BRENNAN:
I recall my mum’s sister called round just before the game and I honestly couldn’t believe she had called in for a casual chat as the game was about to kick off. The scenes when Mickey Thomas scored will never be forgotten. I have never seen my dad move so quick. Although he was a season ticket holder he rarely showed much emotion. On the final whistle our house phone rang and it was my uncle David from Dublin ringing to congratulate us. He fondly refers to us as the Arsenal Brennans. After the TV coverage finished we played darts in the garage and my older brother Tom and his mates were allowed a can of beer. To this day on the ply around the dartboard the Scousebusters graffiti remains.
STEPHEN GOURD:
I was 18 and although a massive fan, decided to work on the night as I just couldn’t take the stress. I was working at a hotel in Bar Hill, Cambridge, in the leisure centre, on my own that night. I had to man the swimming pool. I closed the centre at half-time and watched the second half on a 14-inch colour TV by the pool. The winner, well I had no choice but to jump fully clothed into the pool of course. My dad picked me up just after the finish in his new Audi 80 and was really upset I was so wet until he smiled and said, ‘I have waited for this for a long time.’ He was born in Islington – went to Arsenal during the war, where he was passed down to the front to sit on the side of the pitch.
STEVE RUSBRIDGE:
When Mickey scored, my sister’s boyfriend Bernie, cigarette still in hand, launched himself towards the TV screen. We were still picking up fag ash days later. Thirty years on, and Bernie, who would later marry my sister, is sadly no longer with us but I will never forget our celebrations that night. And now, whenever we’re playing a big match, I raise a glass to him.
JON HOSSAIN:
Whilst driving near Old Street, Smudger scored. I pulled my car up and leant on my horn. Across the road the only other car on the road, a black cab, did the same. We both got out of the car, ran to each other, did a jig, linked arms and then got back to our vehicles. I made it to Victoria for the second half, my brother was there and there were about six other medic friends who had absolutely no interest in the game. We were told to turn the volume down and stop making a noise on a number of occasions. They were surprised at me being a football fan who went to games. In the 1980s you didn’t admit to that; going to gigs sure, but football was full of hooligans.
MIKE FEINBERG:
I did not see the celebration, didn’t see Thomas’s fish-out-of-water dance, didn’t see Winterburn storm across the goal, didn’t see the rabid away supporters having out-of-body experiences. At the time, I was lying face down, on the filthy floor of a London pub, on the bottom of a pile of men and boys that must’ve totalled 15 people. I’m not a clean freak, but I was lucky to get away from that experience without life-changing infections and illnesses. But it was, to that point, the single greatest moment of my life.
FRANK STUBBS:
When Mickey scored me and my dad were rolling around on the lounge floor in floods of tears and my mum was knitting. That night all I remember is running down Maidstone High Street in my Spandau Ballet-style suit wearing my yellow and blue bobble hat and jumping up and down uncontrollably with anyone who wanted to join in.
RICHARD KATZ:
I had a terrible bout of food poisoning and hadn’t been able to keep a thing down for a day or so … except apple juice. I bought myself a little juice box – it was going to be my celebration tipple – and tuned in for the game. I reckon I must have peeled off the little straw just as Thomas went ‘charging through the midfield’. I never drank it. Kept that apple juice carton for years.
MIKE GRAY:
On my way home from work with my fiancée I told her I had put £100 on Arsenal to win 2–0 that evening at 16/1. We watched the game on TV and when Michael Thomas scored she was dancing round the room thinking of £1,600 whilst I dropped to my knees punching the air and announced, this is the best thing to happen in my life. She turned and looked sadly at me as we were getting married that July. To make matters worse, I didn’t have the nerve to put £100 on a bet so she missed out on the £1,600.
CHRISTOPHER STONE:
I was 11. I ran out on to the street and just ran, arms stretched and screaming. I didn’t see the end of the game and there was a moment outside that I realised that Liverpool might score and we could lose, so I ran back inside to see the celebrations on the pitch. The TV was turned off, my parents sent me off to bed and I didn’t sleep for hours. I was reading my Junior Gunners magazines over and over again, imagining I was Rocky.
DAVID GREENALL:
I wasn’t there. Had to go to an 18th birthday that night in a cricket club. I went confident they would have a TV and was distraught to arrive and find that wasn’t the case. So intermittently I sneaked out to my Mark II Escort to listen on the radio. With 15 minutes to go I returned to the car. A Spurs
fan soon joined me and laughed as Thomas missed a chance. Tension rose and then the famous goal. I started to headbutt the steering wheel in joy and the Spurs fan swore and got out of the car.
PATRICK ROCHFORD:
I was an 11-year-old kid. My abiding memory is jumping up on the coffee table (hand-made by my father) when Michael Thomas netted, breaking said table and waking my baby brother who was asleep in a bassinet beside us.
STUART ROBERTS:
I will always remember the night of 26 May 1989. There was something magical about that day and summer, the sun always shone, everything was brilliant, life was perfect. I had a lovely girlfriend who hated football, but it was Michael Thomas who I was really in love with.
TIM SALTER:
I was 17 and at a party in Croydon. It was the days before mobile phones, so I had to find a payphone so I could call my parents. I had to keep phoning for updates from this crappy little room in Croydon Arena, and totally missing the party. Eventually, after I got the news, cue the best party for one.
STEVEN OAKLEY:
My dad, who used to live on Avenell Road, had a thing where he could never watch a match live because it was too stressful so he used to tape them and watch them back after, if we’d won. That night I persuaded him to watch it with me but as it moved closer to full-time, in true Fever Pitch style, he started to insist on turning the TV off. Noooo, I begged and pleaded. All the while he was getting more and more stressed. So what happened … did my dad win, the TV was turned off and neither of us got to see Mickey Thomas score the most famous goal in Arsenal history, or did the 13-year-old prevail and we shared the best footballing memory I have to this day? Of course, I won.
MIKE MURPHY:
I was babysitting two young kids, both also Arsenal fans. As kick-off was fast approaching, both kids poked their heads around the living room door pleading to be allowed to stay up and watch the big match. Being the big softie I, of course, let them stay up. What a great atmosphere we created in our little corner of north-west Kent. I’m glad I let them watch the greatest ever ending to a season in real time.
ELDA FOUCH:
I was five months pregnant and jumping up and down in my living room! On and off the sofa … not to be recommended.
RICHARD MAYS:
Absolutely the best day of my life! For two reasons: the first being obvious, but the second was because my wife told me she was pregnant that day. On 5 February 1990 my wife gave birth to a boy called Thomas.
DANNY RHODES:
I was a teenager living in Grantham and a huge Nottingham Forest fan. A group of us travelled all around the country every single week to watch them play. 89 was obviously Hillsborough. Then there was the peculiar rematch of the semi-final at Old Trafford, which Liverpool won before going on to win the FA Cup. There was some bad feeling after that game between Forest and Liverpool due to the behaviour of John Aldridge, who ruffled the hair of Brian Laws after Laws scored an own goal.
I recall the Liverpool v Arsenal game. We were all supporting Arsenal simply because the game was against Liverpool. When we arrived at the works social club there were loads of lads in the car park and all mayhem was breaking loose. The rest of the evening involved several scuffles, fights and numerous expulsions (I think the police arrived at one point) as trouble broke out between Liverpool fans (lots in those days), Arsenal fans (a scattering) but mostly fans of other sides.
ALAN MYERS:
At the time I was driving a taxi in Liverpool. I picked up a fare who was desperately trying to get into the local pub for the last few minutes of the game. ‘Quick, quick,’ he said. He threw a £10 note at me for the £1.40 fare and ran into the pub, which at this point was absolutely pounding out Liverpool songs and great delirium. As he disappeared into the pub and I put away my money, all of sudden a deathly silence came over the pub, you could hear a pin drop. I realised what had happened and I drove away quickly.
JOHN GERRARD:
I remember ringing my dad from the pub after the final whistle. No words were spoken, we just laughed for a few minutes (bitter Evertonians).
GARY TURNER:
I was 19 and watched on a giant old wooden TV in my bedroom with a few mates. It was the only game we’d ever watched together at that time. When Thomas scored the room erupted and one of my friends snapped my bed by jumping on it. It was all very poignant as my mum had terminal cancer and she was watching downstairs. It was her dad who told me all about The Arsenal and made me the fan I have always been. I celebrated with her afterwards and it was the last football match she ever watched, passing in the September. My mates and I then headed off to a college band night and proceeded to drink the place dry. No one knew the score and I had great pleasure drunkenly announcing it over the PA.
JOHN HILDITCH:
I was 13 and got to watch the game alone on the big TV at home, that’s how big a deal it was, trying not to wake up my mother sleeping next door. Imagine hopping around a tiny front room celebrating Michael Thomas scoring in silence so as not to wake my mother. It ended with me waving a flag out of my bedroom window using my dad’s pool cue as a flagpole. I still have the flag. Oh yeah, I lived in South Tottenham, not really Arsenal territory.
JOHN POWELL:
My wife and I had a flat on Upper Street, Islington in May 1989. We were expecting our first child and it was therefore not exactly the kind of calm and relaxing evening we maybe should have had. When Michael Thomas scored, I instinctively ran to the back of the flat and kicked open the doors leading out on to a terrace, from where I let out a guttural, primeval scream of pure joy.
Given it was a warm and still evening, my clear memory was of sporadic whoops and then a gradual groundswell of cheering, laughing and excitement crackling through the Islington night air. Looking back, it was probably the absence of mobile phones that made such a difference. News and excitement filtered around groups of people engaging, smiling and singing. We spontaneously headed down to the off-licence and then joined others on what felt like a rather noisy pilgrimage. Highbury was the only and obvious place to be. Just sheer joy and a feeling of togetherness. And for my wife (new to football’s madness) she says it was the first time she ‘got it’.
SCOTT WHITE:
I went to Highbury where I joined thousands of Arsenal fans celebrating outside the stadium. It was like I had to go and be around Arsenal supporters to share the best moment of my life at the place where I had grown up dreaming of this day. There was scaffolding up around the stadium as they were doing refurbishments and fans were climbing it and dancing on the platforms. I remember seeing people on the roofs of buildings singing songs and strangers hugging each other. I never wanted it to end.
JON HOSSAIN:
The next day I was on a 9 a.m.–9 p.m. shift in A&E. It was one of the quietest I’ve ever done. I swear the whole of Archway was still drunk. Most folk who came in with minor ailments were so happy. Many had red shirts on and they were delighted to see my red tie emblazoned with a cannon. I spent more time talking to patients about the game than their illness.
PETER ANTONIONI:
89 still leaves me deliriously happy and very remorseful at the same time. I was 22, had just started my dream job, the game got switched to Friday night and I didn’t have the balls to ask my new (football atheist) boss for the day off. I had and still have a ticket, a reminder of the day that never was for me. To make things even worse my mates not only went to the game without me but they also got in to the after-party with the team. So I am constantly reminded of what could have been.
NEALE COULES-MILLER:
Having been a home and away Gooner most of my adult life (including a run of 500-plus games) I was then offered a match ticket by a work colleague on the morning of the match, only to decline on the grounds it was my wife’s birthday. Now ex-wife, but there you go. Never had any trouble remembering her birthday though …
MATTHEW ROBINSON:
I was seven and back in the days when top-flight football was on ter
restrial TV, I watched the game. My first ever Arsenal game. I remember thinking, wow, is every game like this?
JOHN FOSTER:
I was eight years old. When Mickey scored I sprinted upstairs to the bathroom, flung open the door and screamed at my startled mum ‘WE’VE DONE IT! WE’VE DONE IT!!’ I still remember her in her shower cap leaning forward from her prone relaxation in the tub and looking at me saying ‘We’ve done it?’ She was as disbelieving as the whole nation. The final whistle and my dad grabs me, his beard bristles against my cheek. My mum comes down in her robe. Then my grandmother, born in Essex Road, Islington, comes round, celebrating. My aunt drives straight over. Our next-door neighbour Clive – a Spurs fan – rings the doorbell and graciously gives my dad a bottle of wine. The landline phone does not stop ringing. All night. Friends long out of contact picking out my dad’s name from their phone book to congratulate him. Family far away doing the same. At that moment, that night, my dad was the centre of the universe, and it is all thanks to Mickey Thomas.