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FULHAM v MIDDLESBROUGH BLAST FROM THE PAST
Can anyone think of a more meaningless game in the history of football ever? Fulham versus Boro hardly sets the hearts of the football purist palpitating at the best of times but this game, after everything else that has happened in the last two weeks must be one of the biggest anti-climatic closes to a season ever. Well, it's not quite a close I suppose - after all, there IS Wednesday. Still, here are some memories of Fulham dirges from the doldrums.
Chris Bean
Middlesbrough 1 - 1 Fulham, 19/04/2005
After only being able to make two matches in the 2004/2005 season, I decided that I had better pull my finger out and try to get to some more. However being located in Newcastle and not being able to drive meant that I had to rely on public transport. Getting there was no problem, down the east coast from Newcastle to Boro, but getting back was more difficult. The latest train I could catch was at about 9.30pm so I could get the connection from Darlo then get the Metro to my poxy bed-sit in Byker. So the plan was to leave in the eightieth minute so I could get into Boro train station on time.
The match itself was pretty poor with few chances created, and was largely forgettable. So much so that I had no qualms about leaving in the eightieth minute with it being 0-0 as it looked like that would be the way it would finish. As soon as I got out the stadium however I heard some cockneys cheering - fuck we were getting beat I thought - so it was a bit of a miserable walk down Middlehaven. Once I arrived at the station I could hear a smoggy cheer! Get in - we had rescued a point! But I had missed both of the goals - BASTARD! Thus I had spent £40, my entire month's food budget, to see a dross kick about for eighty minutes. I was not amused.
I did like my gadgets back then however and I had one of those 3G phones to download the goals, so all was not lost! I also had gotten acquainted with a student from York who had also attended the game and missed the goals. So I said to him that as soon as the goals became available, which was usually within a couple of minutes, I would show them to him.
As it turned out this had to be put on hold because when we pulled up to Thornaby station the most scary, freakish ugly nutter came on to our carriage, and for some unearthly reason decided to plonk himself next to us. The first thing he said was "Fucking hell, I've juz bin released from prizun, but was in Billingham today ta git some smack but when I climbed this fence I separated ma shoulder when I landed." What a fucking introduction, eh?
The lad from York and I just humoured him and hoped the ticket inspector would come as soon as possible. This bloke told us you can get top class quality drugs from the Byker Wall (which is a lie!), asked us if we wanted a gun, and told us about his mate who had just got done for GBH. Thankfully the nutter got off at Eaglescliffe and we could finally watch the goals from the game. McBride comfortably slotted home passed Brad Jones and JFH managed to get a penalty even though he was yards away from the penalty box. Zenden slotted it home. It was one of the more bizarre evenings I have had that's for sure.
Middlesboro Red & White Sox
Fulham 0-2 Boro, 25/08/2004
Ahh the bright lights and dense smog of London.... just like being back on Teesside...
Start of a new season and our lass goes to her first ever match.....
Midweek game equals a couple of days off work, a train up to London and a nice hotel for the night ;o)....I've got my new Boro shirt on, our lass is panicking
over what to wear (why do they do that?)... she settles on a red t-shirt.
Anyhow, we spends the day walking round London and gets the tube up to Fulham. Now I'm a big lad, 5'10 and 17 stone and an ex front-row 'ugly' with a shaved head. So we get on the tube and I see a Fulham fan right in front of me... so I ask him 'Ow mate are you a Fulham fan?"... He looks at me and shits himself..."Y-y-y-es".... "What's the best station to get off for your ground then?" ...you can see the guy physically look relieved!...
So we get off at Fulham Broadway (I think!- Putney Bridge is actually the best station for Fulham- ed) with about thirty other Boro lads and make our way towards the ground, trying to find a pub en-route. We go past a couple of pubs with signs saying 'No Away Fans' and come to one that looks ok and will let us in.
'Ow mate are we all right to come in for a pint?"... "Sorry Mate no Boro fans in today"... with that a lad comes out of the pub with a Juninho shirt on and with his mobile pressed to his head... "Hello mam....yeah I'm just in the pub now.... aye... can't wait to see the Boro win...." Bouncer looks a bit sheepish as we laugh at him and go off to find another pub. Which we do. It's a Samoan theme pub. I kid you not. In Fulham. A fucking Samoan pub.
Off to the match - Viduka's debut... a full house.... a very very vocal support for the mighty reds... and Dave 'Diddy' Hamilton has just got his job back as the PA there.... deary me...
First words our lass says "It's bigger than I imagined it". So many things I could have said, but I didn't.
First half goes in a bit of a blur... I point out things to our lass, "That's Mark Viduka.... he's a class act him".... "Seems a bit fat to me".... "Aye he is pet..." ....she sees a different side to me... pointing out that the ref may not after all be impartial... and that his parentage maybe questionable...
Second half starts.... nine minutes into it and Vid's shows his class... 1-0.... E-I-O.... "Why do you sing that??"... "I have no idea my little cherub... but we do and have done for years".... then Viduka gets substituted and walks past the Red Army.... I remember thinking to myself 'hey he looks like he's going to be a success this year'. How foolish of me.
Fun time Franckie makes it 2-0.... Fulham weren't even at the races. Match over. Back onto the tube.... after a fourty minute wait. Bastards.
"So pet...did you enjoy your first match then?"....
"Yes it was good".....
"Like to watch the Boro again?"......
"I didn't enjoy it that much...."
Boro 2-2 Fulham, 24/08/2002
James Bassett
It began as a match that made us temporarily believe we had a striker good enough to fire us into the top six, but it ended up being a grim game and one which only the more recent horror of last season's 4-4 draw with Norwich comes close to matching.
I'd just graduated from University and was hardly excited about the prospect of job hunting, living with my parents and paying tax. In fact, the only thing that had given me any reason to be positive throughout the summer was the thought that Steve McClaren had made some astute signings for Boro.
Many Boro fans - I was amongst them - saw the summer of 2002 as one of the most interesting in recent history. The ageing legs of Robbie Mustoe, Paul Ince, Gianluca Festa and Phil Stamp all marched out of Riverside (and, in the case of Festa, probably tripped an opposition forward or two on the way) and in their place came Italian striking sensation, Massimo Maccarone - signed for £8.15million from Empoli in an effort to bolster a strike force that was relying on Dean Windass for goals - and Aston Villa midfielder, George Boateng.
Geremi, after failing to make his mark at Chelsea, was brought in on loan. The big news was, of course, the return of Juninho to Teesside. Unfortunately, the little fella damaged his cruciate ligament in a pre-season friendly against Modena and was out for eight months. Still, on the bright side, it was a full four months before Boro would squander £3.5million on Ferrari-smashing lard arse, Michael Ricketts.
Fulham came to The Riverside for the second game of the season and, having failed to score against Southampton, Maccarone was already being branded a failure. You gotta love the fickle element among the Boro faithful. Still, it looked as though Boro would prove to be a hard team to beat, with Gareth Southgate and Ugo Ehiogu protected by the hardworking midfield of Geremi, George Boateng and Jonathan Greening.
In the absence of Juninho, Carlos "The New Maradona" Marinelli was afforded the opportunity to show off his sporadic talent, with Alen Boksic and Massimo leading the line.
Maccarone was in scintillating form and this game remains his finest hour in a Middlesbrough shirt. Goals either side of half-time looked to have secured Boro a deserved victory and the Italian was only denied a hat-trick by the legs of Edwin van der Sar. However, with the game seemingly over, McClaren decided to replace Boksic and Marinelli - both having fulfilled their quota of one good game in twenty - with the perpetually useless Mark Wilson and the flimsy Joseph Desire Job. With six minutes to go, Maccarone was removed for Noel Whelan. That's right, Boston United's Noel Whelan.
Fulham, with their three tormentors removed, seized the initiative, burst forward in the final five minutes and scored twice in injury time. The headlines that would've been devoted to Massimo Maccarone were suddenly focused on Facundo Sava and his stupid mask. I'd like to think that somewhere in space, there's an alternate dimension where Boro win 2-0, Massimo gets the headlines he deserves, grows in confidence and becomes the 25-goal-a-season striker that he could so easily have been.
As it is, despite notable goals against Sunderland and Spurs, his early spark failed to ignite and he was eased out of the first team picture at The Riverside.
Joseph Job's ninetieth minute winner against Blackburn the following week would go someway to improving my mood, but it would be December before I bothered getting a job.
Fulham 0-1 Boro, 1976
Harry Haverton
I went down to London in 1974 for the Anglo Scottish Cup Final second leg. Boro had held the mighty Fulham to a goalless draw at Ayresome and we were expecting fireworks in the second leg as Boro bid to win their first ever professional trophy.
It was a bloody rubbish match, boring as a Liberal party convention and neither team really got going. Boro won it with a Les Strong own goal making it 1-0 on aggregate.
It was all very strange really because when we got back to Teesside, there was an air of indifference about the whole thing. Nobody seemed bothered really. I suppose I was a bit off the mark expecting street parades and civic receptions.
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