Chelsea v Middlesbrough Match Programme || Chelsea v Boro Blast From The Past

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CHELSEA v MIDDLESBROUGH BLAST FROM THE PAST

Graham Frankland
Boro 0-1 Chelsea, Zenith Data Systems Cup Final, 25/03/1990

We're all going to Wembley, We're all going to Wembley na na na na.... na na na na. Unbelievably my beloved Boro had finally reached a Cup final (albeit a Mickey Mouse one) to be played underneath the famous twin towers of Wembley Stadium and the excitement around town was to say the least, frenzied. All I needed to do was to turn up at Ayresome Park and queue a little while for tickets to go to the big day out. Or so I thought!!

Typically, for the big occasion every person within a twenty mile radius of the town suddenly became a long time Boro fanatic and as a result of not being a season ticket holder and a lazy bastard who couldn't get his arse out of bed early enough to queue, I was suddenly in a position of possibly not being able to go to what I knew would be a carnival for all true fans of the mighty reds.

Days of agonising over how on earth I would be able to get to the game finally ended when I saw an advert in the Evening Gazette for a hospitality package for the game which included hotel stay, meal before the game and a guest speaker of the calibre of the one and only Frank Worthington. Yeah I thought, the meal might be the highlight too. To be honest I didn't give a fuck about anything except the ticket and very quickly my cheque was winging its way down to the company run by Alan Hudson, the ex Chelsea midfielder of some repute, to cover the price of four places to include me, my mate and our wives who we thought we would treat to a trip to the capital.

Now call me naïve, but for some reason it never entered my head that these tickets would not be for the part of the stadium occupied by Boro fans. After all they were advertised in the Gazette! Oh dear, because on arrival at the ground I soon found out this was going to be a game to be endured rather than enjoyed. Yes, you've guessed it, our tickets were for the Chelsea end and as the game progressed the feeling of your life ending became more and more vivid as the fans around us were more intent on pissing in gangways and killing the "facking norvern scum" than actually cheering their team on to victory.

My arse never left its seat no matter how near we came to scoring for fear of the baying mob who had already laid into an unsuspecting couple for having the audacity to wear red and white in their end, and as a consequence the stewards removed them from their ordeal, something I was not keen on because throughout this whole trauma I just kept telling myself "The Boro's at Wembley so fucking enjoy!!"

We did manage to see out the whole ninety minutes without being sussed - or more likely they didn't fancy mashing two couples dressed like they were going to a wedding - so can live to tell the tale but it is certainly a Chelsea memory I do not look on with fond affection and the experience just served to strengthen my hatred of the Cockney rent boy team from the Kings Road.

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