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Opinion

Tottenham v Newcastle 1976 League Cup semi-final away at White Hart Lane – I was there!

1 year ago
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I wasn’t quite 16 when I went to the semi-final of the League Cup first leg, Tottenham v Newcastle, at White Hart Lane.

I never thought I would squeeze a full working life in and retire before we reached that stage again.

Self-indulgent memories, slightly befuddled by time, to follow.

Yes, I was still at school with a paper round, majority of my income went on Newcastle United supporters club coach tickets. Normally bought on a Tuesday night upstairs at the Bridge Hotel.

A group of five or six friends, any three of us would make the majority of the games. We were still hurting after the 1974 capitulation to KK and his mates and hoping to get to Wembley again.

League Cup semi-final?

Tottenham v Newcastle?

Who’s going?

Apparently all of us!

Supporters club have commissioned a “football special train” and the excitement is up yet another notch.

Need to be a part of this.

I seem to think the train fare was only about a fiver (that can’t be right)?

Each carriage was like a supporters club bus with club steward raffling bits and bobs.

Into Kings Cross and on the tube with the big lads up to Seven Sisters. Tottenham Court Road all together early and into the Cockerel (I think it was).

Too young to be served, or even risk having a drink. Just pleased to be part of it. Lots of scarves worn in those days and slowly the black and white scarves were outnumbered by the navy and white carried by Spurs fans.

One of the more mature lads declared “let’s get out of here” and outside, yellow streetlights make it impossible to tell what’s black and what’s navy blue.

Into the away end without incident, bouncing and singing. Newcastle looked great in that Brazil style second strip.

Didn’t get a goal to celebrate but Tommy Craig hit a great shot pushed over the top. Lost 1-0, so still very much in the tie with our home record.

Singing as we leave, very much upbeat.

Somethings happening up ahead.

Tottenham lads have come to see us off.

Very tense with pockets of bother kicking off. I’m on my own somehow and very apprehensive.

Tug at my sleeve (WTF!), it is the supporters club steward who has clocked me from the train. He’s calmer than me thankfully and together we complete the walk, eyes straight ahead, scarf well tucked away.

Seven Sisters, lots happening at entrance to station, but my new Saint Christopher guides me through and down to the platform. Only then does the sigh of relief come and singing finally starts on the tube back to Kings Cross.

Volume rises as we pile on the train home. Everyone very vocal, sharing experiences. By the time we get back to Newcastle, the second leg has been taken as a given, come on – it’s only one nil, it’s only Spurs, we’ve got this!

Not wishing to tempt fate but the second leg did go to plan, built on an early goal to level the tie, we never looked back and Wembley in the bag.

I remember the boyish excitement of the build up and the journey. The adrenalin and noise of the game, then the previously unexperienced fear outside the stadium.

Sharing all of the embellished details at school the next day. It seemed like it was almost a coming of age event.

Never dreamed it would be 47 years until our next one.

I won’t be there but hope my son manages some success in the ticket scramble. I’m pretty sure his generation will learn to take big days in their stride and won’t need to wait almost 50 years for repeats!

Great times, enjoy the ride.

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