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EUROPEAN TIES - BLAST FROM THE PAST
I know we're on a high after our Chelsea success but fearing that this may be our last ever European outing and the fact that all your European memories may drop into the darkest reaches of your twisted little minds, this week we will be celebrating our brief yet reasonably successful forays into Europe.
We've had many fantastic days out in diverse and interesting countries and had a lot of fun along the way. So sit back, crack open the (far superior) continental lager and dig out the sauerkraut as we look forward to Germany by looking back to the past.
Fiddler on the Smog
Middlesbrough 2-0 Lazio, 04/11/2004
This was the sort of stuff we dreamt about when we qualified for Europe. Lazio. I know they weren't the team they used to be but still Lazio were one of the glamour teams of the Uefa cup. 33,991 attendance, the only empty seats in the ground were the Italians'.
Everyone was expecting it to be either a draw or a defeat, we could only dare dream of beating a team like Lazio, could we?
After a few bevies at Lloyds we walked over to the ground and bumped into one of our mates Jeff. Now anyone who knows Jeff knows he gets a bit too excited when watching the Boro, this grown man was currently jumping around like a possessed idiot outside Pizza Hut, waving his flag around his head and singing and shouting like we had won. This kind of set the scene for the night.
When we got to the ground we were a bit apprehensive with our seats, black eye zone as the wife called it, directly behind the south goal crossbar. I got a programme and was surprised to see that Paulo Di Canio now played for our opponents, 'ah I see they're not skimping with the names this evening, looks like it could be a good match' I thought. Bloody right it was.
From the start we appeared to worry Lazio, they looked very uncomfortable on the ball and didn't like being closed down. They panicked when (pre-injury) Stewey Downing got the ball, we tortured them in midfield, especially when Zenden and Downing linked up. We were on fire.
Zenden got both our goals and all the ground rang out with the song 'Bolo Zenden, Bolo Zenden, he used to be shite but now he's alright'.
By the end of the game the 2-0 scoreline flattered Lazio, we ripped them apart.
Job done, and a good un at that.
Andrew Morgan
Middlesbrough 2-0 Lazio, 04/11/2004
I suppose it was like a dream really - a dream that involved two sweaty blokes, a woman who lives in Buckinghamshire, 33000 other people and one foppy-haired Dutchman. Stuff of nightmares?! Nah, stuff of memories mate. This is how it happened.
On the day of the game we were all pinching ourselves - our beloved Boro playing Lazio, LAZIO, at home in a serious European competition. Memories of the desperation of 1986 came flooding back and we all couldn't believe quite how far we had come in just two decades. From playing Port Vale at Victoria Park in the August of '86 to playing in a 35000 all-seater stadium against one of the biggest teams in Italy. We felt truly honoured to be at such a spectacle, and so thankful to Steve Gibson and everyone who had made this night possible.
After all, this is what football was all about - taking on the big boys under the glare of the nation (not to mention the floodlights). If the Carling Cup victory eight months previously had given us national recognition, this game cemented that, and gave us an international reputation to boot. From start to finish we dominated and nobody could quite believe the quality of our play or the result after it, least of all Paulo Di Canio and his bunch of also-rans.
I was at University in York that day, struggling under a sixty hour working week and barely being able to afford the time off to see this momentous occasion. But when I heard that Steve, Wiz and Lill were coming I just had to find any way I could to get there. This was only compounded when I heard that this would be the day that the Wiz would try his first ever parmo - an event of even greater significance than the game in my opinion. So I managed to get a ticket and made arrangements with Steve to pick me up outside the railway station in York so as to get all the experience of trying to get a train without the expense of actually having to board it.
Finally got picked up and ambled our way north towards the Boro, with conversation between us starting to reach internationally significant proportions as we talked excitedly about the game ahead. These UN style deliberations continued unabated in the pub, whilst the atmosphere around the town started to crank up towards fever pitch. This was one of the biggest occasions in the club's history and one that would be recorded live on television in front of the whole nation. Suddenly we felt that all the attention was focussed on us, that we were representing our country in European competition and that, for once, the southern press wanted us to do well. I personally felt proud of that after everything all the backbiting and sarcasm we had had to endure from them. I don't think anyone else gave a shit.
The Riverside looked imposing in the light of another dying day as we bounded towards the stadium in good spirits (and after imbibing a good few). Lill bought a souvenir programme whilst I went to the toilet, only to return right on kick-off. It was this that precipitated the oft-repeated rumours that I am the bloke in the furry Roary the Lion costume as it was claimed that you never see me and him together. I must admit I was flattered with the association (and I would love to do the gig) but I have met Roary and alas the rumours are untrue. For now at least.
So we kicked off and all I heard was the Wiz saying 'we're playing Lazio' over and over again, along with the phrase 'can anyone believe this?' These sentiments of incredulity only increased once Bolo Zenden had scored early on and continued unabated throughout the rest of the game. No one could quite believe that we were beating Lazio, let alone just being on the same pitch as them in a competitive game.
In actual fact we shat all over them, Zenden had an inspired game, scoring two and Riggott was so imperious in defence that he truly came of age that night. Di Canio and co got increasingly frustrated with the long-range shots to which they were limited and when the final whistle blew the stadium went mental. Mental in disbelief - just like we had been when we had celebrated the goals. My head was just fuzzy in a post-match orgasm-like state and as we left the stadium no one still could believe what we had just seen.
This kind of put a shadow on Wiz's first parmo, which we had promised to do after the match as a special treat. All of us were on so much of a high that even that seemed a let-down, although it was still a perfect way to end a perfect evening. But alcohol and saturated fat were the last thing my aching head needed and maybe the same went for the Wiz too. I don't think he was too impressed with a parmo, preferring pies instead. Maybe if he wrote us that review he said he would, I would know but there you go. A classic day nonetheless and one that will always be remembered.
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