BACK TO ARCHIVE INDEX © All written site content is copyright ComeOnBoro.com 2004-2007, unless otherwise stated, and is not to be used without prior permission.	CHELSEA v MIDDLESBROUGH BLAST FROM THE PAST II - THE BATTLE OF STAMFORD BRIDGE The Wizard of Smog Chelsea 1-0 Middlesbrough (agg. 1-2), Play-off Final 2nd leg, 28/05/1988 Out of many, the stand-out is the play-off game at Stamford Bridge. The play-off was for a place in the (old) First Division, i.e. the top flight. The first division team finishing third or fourth bottom (Chelsea) played the winners of a knock-out tournament for the teams finishing third to sixth in the second division (which Boro won), over two legs. The winners would start the next season in the First Division, the losers, the second. It was a really hot day. We'd won at Ayresome 2-0 so I think most of us, despite the natural defensive pessimism of the long term Boro fan, thought we were going to do it. Certainly where we were drinking before the game, despite everyone being acceptably cautious, the atmosphere belied the words- we were there to party! On to the tube (we'd been drinking with MSS in Holborn) and when we got to Earl's Court there were lots of Chelsea around and the atmos was starting to crackle. And not in a good way. I'd gone with a Scots friend, a Jags fan. On the tube he fell into a conversation with a Chelsea fan. I attempted to join in a couple of times but the guy wouldn't acknowledge me, wouldn't even look at me. He kept glancing in my direction but was careful not to catch my eye and I could hear the adrenaline thickening his throat, making him choke on his words almost, so I shrugged and gave up. I realised then that this wasn't going to be a normal day. Walking up to the ground from Fulham Broadway, we were part of a big group and we had a big police escort. Chelsea were pouring out of the pubs and screaming at us as we passed- standard 80's shit I'd seen a thousand times before and yet there was something less ritualistic and more visceral about them than normal. You looked at some of them and they were, to use the sportsman's term, zoned, oblivious to anything but the job in hand- which was screaming death threats at me. Wasn't scared but I was... dunno... impressed, I guess. Younger readers will be astonished to learn that for this almost unbearably important game, I bought my ticket on the gate! That's how low the game had sank in the 80's. We were on the terrace behind the goal at the north end, opposite the Shed (which was still there then) at the south end, where away fans go now. There was a big perimeter between the fans and the pitch back then, it felt like you were miles from the game, and there was no roof. The sun was fierce by now and I envied the people in the stands their shelter. The only bit of the ground that's still there from that day is the east stand, now the Matthew Harding stand, to our left. The game was impossible. They scored first half and the tension second half was so bad. I literally didn't see the last twenty minutes. But we held out. We were up! On the final whistle the team came over to us clapping, dancing, etc. Some Boro fans scaled the fence (we were caged in those days) and joined them on the pitch to celebrate. I think that was a goad too far for some Chelsea fans. There was a breach in the fence at the shed end (reports varied as to how, but the one that had a steward deliberately opening it rang true for me, of which more later) and 400-500 or so came streaming through towards us. More of them ran round the back of the Matthew Harding stand and emerged on the corner terrace to our left; it had emptied quickly on ninety minutes but now started to refill with wannabe murderers. The Boro players sprinted off quick for the dressing rooms and none were hurt. While all that was happening, the Chelsea in the Matthew Harding's upper level were shotting coins at us, hard and from a height. I got a 10p (for the youngsters, in those days it was only slighter smaller and lighter than the 50p is now, quite a substantial coin) on the collar bone, which stung. I've still got the coin. Anyway the police regained control of the terrace to our left quickly but the Chelsea on the pitch were starting to climb the fence in front of us. People were coining them, jumping up and battering their fingers, anything to stop them- it was proper medieaval for a couple of minutes. The ones who got to the top looked behind to see how much support they had coming, then looked down at the Boro waiting for them, and thought better of it. That was the turning point, their momentum was lost and the police got them shot out fairly soon after. There were sporadic incidents for a few minutes but that was basically that. Oh yes the stewards - hoolies in hiviz tabards mate, nothing more or less. At least one (he was distinctive looking, long blond hair and green checked shirt is how I spotted him) pulled off his steward's tabard and was one of those climbing the fence. He'd also attempted to hit one of the Boro fans on the pitch. As we were leaving another steward, totally contorted with anger, said "Go on, fuck off to the First Division where you don't fucking belong". That might have turned nasty but instead we laughed long and hard in his stupid, ugly face, the fucking Chelsea tramp. He was in tears as I went past him. One thing I never found out was how the Boro fans who'd got over the fence to celebrate with the team ever got away. I wonder if they went to the changing rooms with the players? Once order was firmly restored the team came back out and we had a sing and dance with them, which was cool. I shook the hand of one but I'm buggered if I can remember who! I'm told there was trouble at Notting Hill tube later but I never saw it, I'm glad to say. When I got in I saw that the sun had burned my right side so I had a very Boro half red/half white face! Marvellous. So that was a day... SEND THIS TO A FRIEND BACK TO CHELSEA MATCH PROGRAMME INDEX
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