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MIDDLESBROUGH v BOLTON BLAST FROM THE PAST II
When it comes to memories of matches against Bolton, one game stands out above all others. 29th February 2004 was the day that we finally became something, the day that we wrestled free from the shackles of mediocrity and won our first major trophy.
It was a day of dreams and a day of ecstasy, and indeed one that many Boro fans thought would never come. So to celebrate, here's regular columnist Christopher Bean's (Pollock's Right Foot) take on the day that tore up the history books...
Pollock's Right Foot
Middlesbrough 2-1 Bolton, Carling Cup Final, 29/02/2004
My memory stems right back to before the time the semi-final took place, when I heard that one of my favourite bands at the time, Ash, were playing at Middlesbrough Town Hall on 29th February. When we drew Arsenal I thought it would be unlikely that we would be going to Cardiff as we were playing so poorly at the time, so I decided to buy tickets for the gig.
Then we knocked Arsenal out and I thought to myself, bugger. On my hands was one of the biggest decisions of my life. Should I go to the Town Hall to see a band who I had followed for seven years, but had not had the opportunity to see before (and who were right on my doorstep) or go and see the team that I'd supported since a wee bairn, who had their best ever chance of winning some silverware. Of course I had to go to Cardiff - it was a no brainer. So I sold two of my Ash tickets to my mates and kept hold of one for luck, hoping to try and get back to the Boro to see the closing set.
My Granddad, my uncles and I got a coach from Stockton High Street at 2am. How this bus managed to pass its MOT God only knows. It was about as old as Harry Callaghan's jumper! We managed to get into Cardiff for about 11.30 and the quest was on to find some liquid refreshment after our long journey. We managed to get the first pints in this hotel where the cheeky bastards were charging £3 a pint! But we thought fuck it and just stayed there, and the place soon filled up with Boro fans. In fact six Bolton fans came in, saw a wall of red and soon scarpered out of the place.
We then walked to the stadium and were in awe of the place. It is simply majestic, and seeing McClaren's big ginger noggin above the turnstiles was a sight to behold. As we were heading towards the gates we bumped into our drinking buddy from the Norton workies, Ray, and his two daughters who looked heartbroken. The person he was supposed to be meeting up with to give him his match ticket hadn't turned up. This put a dampener on things as we made our way towards the turnstiles.
We got to our seats and the Boro fans were singing their hearts out. Kick off was fast approaching and as the teams came out, I heard a familiar tune - 'Burn Baby Burn' by fucking Ash! This was an omen of the highest degree! The song pumped me up for the match meanwhile, and I was getting hoarse before we had even touched the ball.
The players kicked off and after a bit of jostling for possession, Danny Mills found the ball at his feet and hoisted it long, intending to pick out Joe Job. It ricocheted to Mendi instead who played a beautiful ball towards the path of Zenden. He squared the ball across to Job and GET IN YOU FUCKING BEAUTY!!! Boro scored after two minutes! Everyone exploded in cheer, my Granddad next to me, who had just turned sixty-seven, was jumping up and down like a teenager, and I was hugging anyone in sight. We couldn't believe it, we couldn't have wished for a better start..... Or could we?
Once I managed to re-collect myself I managed to see in the corner of my eye the little fella nodding the ball towards Mendieta. Mendi drilled the ball towards Job who got a heavy touch on it but he was also bundled over by Emerson Thome. Riley pointed to the spot, fucking hell - a penalty!! Before that we hadn't had one all season!! Zenden grabbed hold of the ball and placed it on the spot and my Granddad groaned and said "Why him? He will probably cock it up" Well my Grandfather was right, he slipped and did a drop kick, but it went in!!! 2-0 up after seven minutes!! What a fucking start!
The Boro fans were in full flow now and couldn't believe what they were seeing. The Bolton fans meanwhile looked totally disheartened. The game then settled down and became a midfield battle, with Boateng dominating the centre of the pitch. Twenty minutes in however the little fella lost the ball to Kevin Nolan on the halfway line and he played it to Kevin Davies. Davies then hit a fairly innocuous shot towards Skippy and the Australian let it bobble under his body. What a nightmare, but typical Boro I suppose. We like to make it hard for ourselves.
We managed to get into half-time still ahead after Schwarzer redeemed himself with some brilliant saves from Djorkaeff, who probably to this day still doesn't know how he didn't score.
The second half was a bit of a dour affair with not much action until the final ten minutes when Bolton threw everything at us and we defended like stallions. We had a late scare when a ball that was drilled into the box hit Ehiogu's hand but the penalty was not given, much to the relief of everyone around us. We then hung on until the full time whistle went. Boro had won silverware. Once again I was hugging anyone in sight. In the space of five minutes I heard every single chant the fans know and it was an incredible sound.
In what seemed like forever, the Cup came out to the tune of 'Adagio for Strings' which sent a shiver down my back. The players received their medals, and finally Southgate got his hands on the cup and lifted it in the air. This is one of the proudest moments in my life. I had a grin like a Cheshire cat, tears of joy streaming down my face. What a moment.
Once the players left the pitch we went back to the hotel where we were drinking. En route we bumped into Ray who had managed to get a ticket as this lass had a spare one and gave it to him. When he was telling the story he burst into tears of happiness. And we did too. A perfect day, a perfect match and a perfect result. Let's hope we go back there in May!
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