The Spirit Of Wimbledon: Footballing Memories Of The Dons 1922-2003
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Niall Couper  A brand new history of football's perennial underdogs, Wimbledon. Written and researched by Niall Couper, AFC Wimbledon's matchday programme editor, it covers the Dons from their humble beginnings in 1922 right up to their present day incarnation as AFC Wimbledon in 2003.
In 1977 Wimbledon Football Club were still a non-league club plying their trade in the Southern League... just over a decade later the club was in England's top division and had won the world's most famous knockout competition, the FA Cup, beating Liverpool in one of the greatest upsets Wembley had ever seen. Three years later the Dons were founder members of the Premier League. Thriving on their underdog status, they continued to defy the odds until 2000 when they were relegated. Then in 2002 an FA Commission granted Wimbledon permission to re-locate to Milton Keynes. It was an unprecedented move. The supporters were incensed and set up their own non-league club, AFC Wimbledon. Now, backed by the famous passion of the Dons, AFC Wimbledon are out to repeat history. This book tells the tale of the spirit that inspired it all from 1922 to 2003 through the eyes of the players, managers and supporters who were there. With over 100 exclusive interviews from the likes of Vinny Jones, John Fashanu, Robbie Earle, Dave Beasant, Dave Bassett, Bobby Gould, Dickie Guy, Kris Stewart, Wally Downes and Alan Cork; all the famous images, and some never before-seen pictures, The Spirit of Wimbledon is the definitive inside guide to the Dons SBN 1-901447-19-7
Price £14.99
No. Of Pages 350
With photographs throughout
Category Sports
Publication Date 7th November 2003 |
Chapter 8
The Cup Final
A weird and wonderful world
A thousand things came together on that fateful day in May to produce the greatest
moment in Wimbledon’s history. Wimbledon had done the unthinkable. They
had beaten the best team in England, Liverpool, 1-0 and won the FA Cup. In the
joy that followed John Motson uttered the immortal line: “It’s a
Weird and wonderful world if you come from Wimbledon.” And indeed it was.
Here, the players and their manager Bobby Gould recall what happened from a few
days before the final, to the game itself and the days that followed.
14 May 1988
FA Cup Final (Wembley)
Wimbledon 1 Liverpool 0
Clive Goodyear: A few weeks earlier, I had thought my Cup dreams
were over. Against Spurs the week before the semi-final I damaged my knee really
badly. I knew it was serious, and the thought of missing out on this big occasion
in my life was shattering. I had to work so hard to get fit. I managed to play
the last three League games of the season, but even then it was not certain that
I would get into the team or even the squad. I was told on the Thursday before
the final that I would be playing. I was bubbling inside, but I also felt so
sorry for John Scales. We were good friends and he was tremendous about it. He
was still part of the squad, and that took some of the sting out of it.
John Scales: I remember the build-up to the final. I wasn’t
100 per cent fit. I’d been playing regularly in the team and then I got
injured against Forest. Me and Clive Goodyear had been battling for a place in
the team, but with the injury I wasn’t even sure I was going to be in the
squad. Although I did make the squad, I was utterly gutted not to be playing.
Nowadays, top-level football is a squad game, but back then, being in the team
was the be all and end all. It was difficult sitting on the bench. I remember
the preparations before the game, and the beer in the hotel the night before – and
it being perfect for our group of lads. And it obviously worked to our advantage.
Vinnie Jones: Me, Brian Gayle and Dennis Wise were sitting in
the hotel the night before the game. We were playing cards and the boredom was
starting to set in. We had to do something so we went for a walk just to get
a change of environment. So naturally we ended up in the pub for a quick pint.
We didn’t think anybody would notice.
Bobby Gould: They thought I hadn’t spotted them, but I
had. Meanwhile, the rest of the lads were getting edgy and nervous. So I just
said: “Here’s £50 – go down the pub, and once you’ve
had a pint of shandy come back.” Then Gayley, Wisey and Jonah came in through
the back door. I spotted them straight away. I said: “Don’t think
I don’t know where you haven’t been.” They were looking all
smug, like naughty schoolboys. And then I said: “Well, you guys are the
mugs, I’ve just given the other lads £50 to go to the pub, and you
had to pay for your own drinks.” I’ve hardly seen them move quicker
as they left to catch up with the others.
Lawrie Sanchez: That night was easily one of the highlights of
the whole weekend. You see it wasn’t just any old pub. It was the Fox and
Grapes, the pub which 100 years earlier had provided the club’s first changing
rooms. Anyway, the bar staff wheeled in this 90-year-old woman from next door.
Her father had played in the Old Centrals team, and she told us how she’d
watched them play on the Common. It was humbling. You could see her eyes glisten
with the memory.
Clive Goodyear: After the old woman’s story, the beers
really started to flow. I often think back to that night and try to imagine what
we must have looked like. It’s the night before the most important game
in the club’s history, and the entire squad are in the pub wearing club
tracksuits and drinking to their heart’s content. I stayed until about
11pm supping my Guinness, while most of the other guys tucked into their lagers.
There were still a lot of them at the bar when I left.
John Fashanu: I may have been the grumpy one in the corner drinking
coke, but I was there. I had to look after Jonah. He was screaming and hollering
as usual. All the lads were having a craic. I was milking my soft drink – I
used to be able to make one last all night. I don’t know whether it was
because I liked drinking slowly or whether it was because I was being tight.
I just liked to mind my own business. When it all kicked off, I would join in.
But I liked to watch from the sidelines. Something was always going off. Someone
would pull someone else’s wife or someone would stamp on someone’s
foot, and it would all kick-off. That night we were all up for having a laugh
and enjoying ourselves. But it turned nasty when I got back to the hotel.
Bobby Gould: They weren’t that late back, but I remember
being downstairs when the phone rang and it was Vinnie Jones. He was sharing
a room with John Fashanu, and Fash had just put his fist through the door. He
had just been told that the News of the World were going to do a splash on him
on the day after the final about some sex scandal he’d got himself mixed
up in. That’s their way of doing things – ring you up the Friday
before it goes in. Fash was livid. If you watch a recording of the final you
can see that his right wrist is all strapped up. It took ages to calm him down.
Vinnie Jones: The reporter had been hanging around all day. I
wanted to chase him up the road. I was going to bang him. Fash was fuming, but
I had the key to the door. Fash was first to the door and he just wanted to hit
something, so he hit the door. It was solid oak. It must have been four or five
inches thick, but he left a hand print in it. You could see his knuckles pop
back when he did it. He played in so much pain the next day.
Bobby Gould: But that wasn’t the only problem that night.
Down the corridor there was Gibbo. I stuck my nose round the door and all I could
see where what looked like huge feet under his bed. Gibbo had gone to sleep wearing
his boots. He’d been given a new boot deal for the final and was trying
to break them in. He’d even sat in the bath with them on to see if that
would help. In every room there was something I had to deal with – that
was the real hard part of being a manager of Wimbledon. The next day, the papers
were saying that if Wimbledon won it would set the game back centuries. They
criticised us for taking free kicks on the left with the right foot, and on the
right with the left foot. And then there were the long throw-ins. In the years
that followed, every club in the top flight followed suit. Now even Italy and
Brazil do that. But those sorts of comments just helped us. We thrived on them.
It just added to the build-up of the whole day.
Terry Gibson: As a kid, I always remember waking up at 9am on
Cup final day. I used to rush downstairs and watch the build-up to the big match
from start to finish: the “It’s a Knockout” special, meet the
players, the TV cameras with the coach and everything. That’s what made
the FA Cup final so special. Millions of children around the globe had the same
routine. Me and Clive Goodyear were in our hotel room putting on our suits, watching
the build-up to the final – our final. And the TV cameras were outside
our hotel filming our coach and I remember the reporter saying that in 10 minutes’ time
the Wimbledon coach was due to leave. I had a lump in my throat, and I looked
at Clive. He had a lump in his throat too. Neither of us said a word. That’s
when it hit us that this was the day we had spent our lives looking towards.
There were loads of people at the hotel, all in yellow and blue, all wishing
us well and wanting to see us off.
Andy Thorn: On our way to Wembley, we were watching Liverpool
on their coach on TV. Alan Hansen was being real cocky. He said: “Can you
see any Wimbledon fans? This is all Liverpool.” That’s what kicked
off the stuff in the tunnel. He was so arrogant. We couldn’t wait to ram
it down his throat. Bobby Gould didn’t have to say a thing. Just listening
to Hansen on the coach lit the touch paper.
Terry Gibson: The week before we had played Manchester United
at Old Trafford, and I chatted with Gordon Strachan and a few other United players
after the match. Gordon was a good friend of mine from my United days and he
said to me: “Whatever you do, make sure you enjoy the day. Soak everything
in – it may only ever happen once in your life.” And those words
were ringing in my ears when we arrived at Wembley. I walked alone on the pitch
for about five minutes, taking in every blade of grass, every seat. I wanted
to remember every moment.
Bobby Gould: Everybody had been given a job to do. We didn’t
change much from our usual play. I remember Don saying he wanted to switch Dennis
Wise and Alan Cork to counter the threat of John Barnes. We just wanted to deny
him the ball, and Don’s plan worked. But to be honest, being manager of
that side that week was not really about tactics or about who was going to do
this or who was going to do that, it was more about keeping an eye on them and
making sure they didn’t burn themselves out emotionally.
Terry Gibson: The week before, Liverpool had played Nottingham
Forest, who at the time were one of the best clubs in the country. They absolutely
destroyed them, 5-0. I remember thinking they would murder us.
But we then spent the whole week watching that video. We found that all their
attacks had stemmed from Alan Hansen. Obviously they had the likes of Peter Beardsley
and John Barnes, and Don Howe had plans for dealing with them, but the key was
to stop them playing the ball out of defence.
Clive Goodyear: Dennis Wise and I were told by Don Howe to stop
the ball getting to John Barnes. That year he had torn so many defences apart.
We didn’t want Barnes to end up one-on-one against me. The idea was to
make sure he had to face Dennis first and then I would clear up if he beat him.
It was simple, but it made a huge difference.
Terry Gibson: My job was to mark Alan Hansen man to man. It was
the most defensive role I’d ever been given, and yet I was still playing
centre forward. We planned to just let Gary Ablett get the ball. The rest of
their team could pass, but we had worked out that all he ever did was hit the
ball long – and that would be meat and drink for our defence.
John Fashanu: In the changing room, Vinnie pulled me to one side
and said: “None of this old shaking hands stuff, let’s just stick
it straight up ’em.” He knew me well. I was a gentleman really. If
someone was nice to me I couldn’t hurt them. If one of the Liverpool players
had said: “Are you OK, John?” after a bad tackle, or “Don’t
worry about it, it’s part of the game,” after I crunched them, I
wouldn’t have done anything. Vinnie wanted to get me going, get the aggression
pumping – and it worked.
Bobby Gould: Liverpool feared us – I don’t care what
anyone says. They couldn’t cope with us. We spent the entire day trying
to get under their skins, and it worked. It started from the moment we went to
meet the ref. We put all the clocks and our watches back five minutes and convinced
Liverpool that their watches were wrong. That meant they were left waiting in
the tunnel for five minutes. Then there was our yell of euphoria: “Yidaho!” They
were petrified. Despite what they’ve said since, it did upset them. I saw
it in their eyes.
John Fashanu: “Yidaho!” It was a wild war cry. We
were all shouting and hollering, but everyone remembers Vinnie more than most.
He spits when he shouts.
Terry Phelan: Even Vinnie was scaring me with his shouting. Wisey
and Fash joined in, but we were like that every match. It was like our Haka.
Vinnie Jones: The shout “Yidaho” actually came from
my mates down the pub. We all used to shout it when we did something well – won
at cards or something like that. I had got all the boys in the pub tickets, but
they didn’t want to go. They wanted the tickets to go to real Wimbledon
fans, but I couldn’t stop thinking about them. So when we were in the tunnel
it just came out: “Yidaho!” Fash and Wisey joined in and then everyone
else. And once we won we couldn’t stop shouting it.
John Fashanu: I had said to everyone that nobody should shave
or wash for 24 hours before the game. In the end it was only me, Jonesy and Wise
that didn’t. My thinking was that if we are going out there looking like
fancy dans, we will play like fancy dans. I wanted us to play like Raggedy-Arse
Rovers. I felt so mean and aggressive on the pitch. And then there was Vinnie.
At 3.01pm Vinnie went in for a tackle with Steve McMahon – and that was
the key moment. The tackle started at his throat and ended at his ankle. That
was the game won; psychologically we had made our mark. Vinnie had hit them like
an express train. We were in the FA Cup final, how could we go too far? We were
either going to win or we were going to get sent off. We were not going to hang
around. We didn’t want to be there at the end with sad puppy-dog eyes as
Liverpool got the trophy. We were not going up those stairs as losers.
Vinnie Jones: The papers were all saying Steve McMahon was going
to do this and that to us and I had had enough of it. I said to Fash a couple
of days before the final that I was going to get him. And Fash said: “If
you whack him early you’ll be alright. It’s the Cup final, you’re
playing in front of 100,000 people, he can’t send you off that quickly.” That
said when the referee reached for a card I was bricking it. That tackle was the
first key point of the game. It set the tone for what was to follow.
Terry Phelan: The game was won with Vinnie’s tackle on
Steve McMahon. That was our mark on the game: it said that no one was going to
come through the middle.
Dave Beasant: The key moment for me? Ten minutes in, and my fingertip
save. The penalty save in the second half, of course, was crucial, but that was
in the second half and we were already 1-0 up. At 0-0, though, had they scored
it would have been all over. It was a nothing sort of a shot from John Aldridge,
but it took a slight deflection off Eric Young. I managed to adjust and block
it with my thigh, but it looped up in the air. I can remember it as clear as
day – the ball was above my head, just hanging there. I can still see John
Barnes charging in, ready to volley it in. He must have thought this was it,
this was 1-0. Then the old Go-Gadget-Go arm came out and I managed to get my
fingertips to the ball and scrape it away. Vinnie Jones did the clearing-up job
and we were safe once again. Liverpool were the “Team of the Decade”,
everyone’s favourite. A goal then and our dream would have died.
Terry Phelan: Then came Peter Beardsley’s disallowed goal.
Everyone talks about it, I don’t know why. Andy Thorn fouled him. Everyone
heard the whistle, Peter heard the whistle. We stopped as a back four, why Peter
went on I will never know. If Dave hadn’t bothered to try and stop the
shot, the argument would never have happened.
Andy Thorn: Had the referee waited just a second or two more,
the whole story could have been so different. I’d switched off a bit, and
Beardsley got the run on me. He had a good first touch and he took the ball across
me. I grabbed his shirt and the referee blew. But my grip was slipping and Beardsley
shrugged me off and went on and put the ball in the net. If the referee had just
held on we would have been 1-0 down.
Vinnie Jones: I have spoken to the few of the lads about it and
I would have given the goal. You’re supposed to play the advantage rule
at times likes that, but that was just our bit of luck.
Terry Phelan: Our goal came seconds after Beardsley’s effort
had been chalked off. I was pegging it down the left flank with Ray Houghton.
The ball was played over the top and I just played dumb. We were looking for
free kicks.
Don Howe had told us to head out wide and look for the overlaps and if we could
get free kicks, we would get free kicks. Liverpool were terrified of us in the
air. They had all the big six-footers, but once the ball was swung in the air,
we were always favourites. We were never going to score from neat passing outside
the box. We were going to score from a free-kick or a corner. We had worked on
that ploy all week and for all the time I was at Wimbledon.
Alan Cork: There was a bit of an argument over what we were going
to do with the free kick, and in the end we decided to go for our usual routine.
Such was the quality of Dennis Wise’s deliveries that we almost expected
to score every time. Nine times out of 10 it would have been me who scored the
goal. And yes, it was disappointing that I didn’t get it. It missed me
by maybe an inch. But it was destined to be Sanch’s moment.
Terry Phelan: And then it happened. Dennis’s free kick,
Lawrie’s flick-on, and it was in the back of the net. I just stood there
watching. It reminds me now of Ray Houghton’s goal for Ireland when we
beat Italy in the 1994 World Cup. I felt the same way both times. The world stood
still – it was as if what I was watching wasn’t real.
Vinnie Jones: I was standing on the edge of the area as it came
in. We rehearsed free kicks over and over. We knew the routine. I didn’t
actually see the ball go in. My view was obscured from where I was standing,
but I remember seeing Bruce Grobbelaar’s face. It told the whole story.
And once it was nestling in the net that was it game over.
Lawrie Sanchez: Everyone talks about the goal – but it
was my job and you just get on with it. I’d scored against Chelsea the
week before with a header from a Dennis Wise free-kick from the same side. I
knew how Dennis took the free kicks, and it was the same in the Cup final. I
scored, we went 1-0 up, and I had this feeling then we were going to win.
Andy Thorn: When we won the free kick, I looked to Eric Young
and said thank God for that – we can have a rest. I didn’t even run
up to celebrate the goal. It was too far to run – 45 yards there, 45 yards
back. He wants me to run 90 yards to say: “Well done”? No way. At
half time, Don Howe pulled off a master stroke. Because it was so hot he had
got us all fresh shirts and loads of ice in bags to cool us down. It was brilliant – better
than having sex! We were all chatting away and Don said: “Don’t sit
back, don’t start wasting time, keep playing the way you are and you’ll
win this.”
Five minutes into the second half, the ball drops to Vinnie Jones and he just
boots it.
Terry Gibson: It wasn’t all Liverpool. I remember I had
a glorious chance to make it 2-0. It was on my weaker side. Bruce Grobbelaar
ran out of the goal and I just touched it round him. In hindsight I should have
hit it with the outside of my left foot. Instead I miscued it horribly, but thankfully
it wasn’t too costly. Sanch was the only one who was happier with 1-0.
I think I probably got my job as his deputy because of that miss!
Clive Goodyear: Then there was the penalty. I couldn’t
believe what had happened. I clearly toed the ball back to Dave Beasant, and
the whistle went. Peter Beardsley had played a nice reverse pass but I read it
and slid in and won the ball. John Aldridge had just fallen over my leg. As far
as I was concerned I had done what I needed to. And then it clicked – the
referee had given a penalty. As far as I was concerned it was ridiculous, and
that’s putting it politely. I was not one for ranting or raving. I vaguely
remember Eric Young, Andy Thorn and Dave Beasant tearing after the referee, but
I was just stunned.
Terry Phelan: You could sense that something like that was going
to happen. I remember it as clear as daylight. Clive Goodyear got the tackle
in. It was a good sliding tackle and the ball went straight to Lurch. But the
referee clearly wanted to make amends for the Beardsley goal and gave the penalty.
My veins were pumping and there must have been 80,000 scousers in the stadium
all mad for it.
Andy Thorn: The referee just gave it to make up for Beardsley’s “goal”.
John Aldridge was nowhere near the ball when Clive got the tackle in and slid
it back to Dave. I have spoken to the referee since, and I said to him: “Bad
decision that one.” He said: “Which one?”
Dave Beasant: It was never a penalty. Anyone who has seen the
game knows that. Clive Goodyear got the ball cleanly. Andy Thorn and Eric Young
were incensed and went charging after the referee. But I am a bit more level
headed than those two, so I pushed them aside and said to the ref: “Look,
he got the ball.” But the referee just said: “Penalty.” And
that was that, there was no changing his mind. I headed back to my goal line
and suddenly I couldn’t breathe properly. I had to put my hands on my knees
and try and get some air into my lungs.
Clive Goodyear: I remember lining up on the edge of the box,
looking at Dave on his line. We had battled so hard and they were putting us
under so much pressure. I thought: “If this goes in we will probably lose
it. Miss, please miss!”
Dave Beasant: I’ve always studied penalties. Throughout
my entire career I’ve tried to learn something about the opponents’ penalty-taker.
When we were in the Fourth Division it wasn’t easy. I used to look for
pictures of penalties in the opponents’ programmes, and I could normally
tell by the angle of the penalty-taker’s foot where the ball had gone and
how they had hit it.
But against John Aldridge it was easier. Liverpool were on the TV every week
and he had scored something like 13 penalties that season. I had seen his technique
over and over again. A little shuffle and it would go to my right; no shuffle
and it would go to my left. There was no shuffle, and I saved it.
Andy Thorn: Aldo knew it wasn’t a penalty. I later played
with him when I was up at Tranmere and I know the miss affected him really badly.
He was taken off straight after and he was never the same player again. The players
at Tranmere used to pester me to ask him about it, but he would never be drawn.
We rode our luck in the game. If you get all your tackles in and all your blocks
in, then you deserve your luck. But when a short, fat, bald referee gives a penalty
that isn’t a penalty, that’s sickening. If John Barnes had volleyed
the ball in from 30 yards or one of our players had made a mistake that led to
a goal, we would have coped with it, we would have accepted it, but this was
crap. Lurch’s save was justice.
Terry Gibson: I came off with 20 minutes to go. I was so physically
drained. I didn’t want to come off, but I had rolled my socks down and
Bobby Gould just knew then that I was knackered. John Scales came on for me,
and although it seemed absurd to put him on up front, he was just taking on my
defensive role.
John Scales: It was Wembley. It was the Cup final and we were
winning. There were 20 minutes to go and Bobby Gould tells me to get warmed up
and then he throws me on up front. Me up front? I was as shocked as anyone.
Now, normally you charge on with instructions from the bench to tell people to
do this or that. Instead, I had to explain that I was going up front and that
I was as surprised as they were. For that last 20 minutes I ran around trying
to make it as difficult as possible for their defenders.
Terry Gibson: Being on the bench for the closing stages was nerve-racking.
I didn’t fancy our chances if it went to extra-time. They kept on having
all these near misses, and each one was like another heart attack.
John Fashanu: Ten minutes from the end I was delirious. I was
physically and mentally exhausted. I couldn’t move. I had cramp in both
legs and I was praying that the game would end. I have never experienced such
pain before or since.
Dave Beasant: The last 10 minutes went on for an age. With two
minutes to go, Scalesy was caught offside. The referee blew, and half the team
thought we’d won. Bobby Gould and Don Howe leapt off the bench and I think
Vinnie punched the air – the tension was immense.
Bobby Gould: I was jumping up at every whistle thinking that
was it and Don Howe would pull me down and tell me to keep an eye on the clock.
I was just a kid in management compared to Don – he knew how to deal with
everything.
Andy Thorn: I was getting delirious with the heat. We kept asking
the referee how long was left and he kept saying: “Not long.” But
how bloody long is not long? “Not Long.” Then the ball dropped to
Vinnie Jones in the last minute, and I was thinking: “Just leather it Vinnie,
just leather it.” In the same moment I remember seeing out of the corner
of my eye the referee putting his whistle to his mouth. I had my hands in the
air before he blew. As for the ball, it must have landed on Mars.
Terry Gibson: It was a huge feeling of relief. I remember looking
up into the clear blue sky above Wembley and thinking: “I’ve done
it, I can pack up now.”
Dave Beasant: I didn’t leap. I didn’t jump. I just
turned round to get my gloves bag from the back of the goal. And then there was
this hefty weight on my back – it was Thorny. We were off, me carrying
him and him hollering and shouting.
John Fashanu: I fell to the floor at the sound of the final whistle.
Everyone thought it was a form of celebration, but I was shattered. I remember
seeing Vinnie doing all these antics and normally I would have stopped him, but
I just couldn’t move.
Clive Goodyear: It was a schoolboy’s dream and it had just
come true for me. But the main emotion was relief, especially after the penalty.
Alan Cork: In 1977, when we got into the League, only a nutter
would have said that we’d get into the First Division and win the FA Cup.
Yet 11 years later here we were, winners. It took us 11 years to do it and it
will never happen again. It’s impossible now; the gap financially is too
huge. No club will ever emulate Wimbledon.
Bobby Gould: I just couldn’t believe what we had achieved.
Personally, it meant so much. My father Roy was born on the same date and had
died 12 years earlier. The win was for him as much as it was for me.
Terry Phelan: We’d done it. I was a 20-year-old standing
on the pitch at Wembley and my dream had just come true. As a kid you try to
imagine what it must feel like, and here I was and it was happening for real.
It just didn’t sink in. I remember Bobby Gould and Don Howe telling us
to walk around the stadium as slowly as we liked and to soak in everything and
savour it all as it might never happen again. They were right and I’ll
thank them forever for telling me to do that.
Dave Beasant: I remember trying to make sure I shook the hands
of all the Liverpool players. I doubt it meant much to them, but to me it was
important. They were the greatest team of the decade and they deserved respect.
Terry Phelan: Watching Liverpool climb the steps as the losing
team was surreal. I was from the north of England. This was the greatest team
in a generation. They were supposed to have won the Double. I felt terrible for
them. But it was our day to savour.
Dave Beasant: Then it was our turn. I hadn’t paid much
attention to Liverpool when they went up – I was too busy jumping up and
down and going mental. Then the man from the FA came over to us – Adrian
something, I can’t remember his second name. And he said simply: “Dave,
get your boys together and go and get the Cup.” It must have been the dream
of millions of people to climb those steps and lift the trophy. The steps were
lined by Liverpool fans, but that didn’t matter. They were brilliant to
us. And to get the Cup from Princess Di, the one royal everyone could identify
with, was extra-special. I remember picking it up and lifting it and all I could
hear was Wisey swearing away in front of royalty. He didn’t know where
he was, but it didn’t matter. It was our day.
Alan Cork: I remember walking up the steps. I was behind Thorny
in the line and I have the image of Lurch lifting the Cup fixed firmly in my
mind. I’ve got a nice picture of me and Princess Di shaking hands and her
giving me my medal. It was a great moment.
Terry Phelan: It was like a dream, walking up those steps and
getting my medal. And then there were people throwing their scarves and hats
at us. It was all so unreal. Liverpool had all these fabulous players, all at
the peak of their careers. Every one was an international. We had nothing to
lose. We never thought we would get to the final, let alone step onto the pitch.
That one game made Wimbledon known around the world. I live in the States now
and even here I get kids talking to me about that game.
Vinnie Jones: All I remember after I got my medal was press everywhere.
I was choked up. They had dismissed us as scum. They had said we weren’t
even fit to be on the same pitch as Liverpool. And we had shown them. I went
to them all screaming and hollering showing them my medal. “That bloody
shows you,” I shouted. That day was the day when Wimbledon came of age.
Terry Gibson: The medal means the world to me. My life would
never be the same without it. The actual game itself I didn’t enjoy. I
had a hernia earlier in the season and I knew I needed an operation, but I decided
to put it off as long as we stayed in the FA Cup. By the time of the final, I
was in so much pain that I wasn’t even training between games. I was one
of the first people to use cycling shorts to try and keep a hernia under control.
When we got to the final, I was a little bit short of fitness. I remember Bobby
Gould asked me a few days before the game how I was and whether I’d be
fit enough to play. I lied through my teeth and said I was fine. It was the hardest
game of football I have ever played. I was in hospital the Tuesday after the
final. The Cup final meant a lot to me and Bobby Gould. We had both left Coventry
a few years earlier and in 1987 we had to watch as they went and won the Cup.
I was in Malta with Manchester United and I honestly thought I had missed the
boat. I never knew what was going to happen at Wimbledon. I had gone there just
to get first-team football and I came away having fulfilled a life-time ambition.
John Scales: It was just a great occasion. It’s a special
memory, but it went by all too quickly. I was just 21. I was playing in my first
final. There was the hype and all the build-up. I had just come from Bristol
Rovers and here I was playing at Wembley. You hear it all the time, but it’s
true: the first time you play in a Cup final it all flies by. You can’t
sit back and enjoy the whole occasion. After 1988 I promised myself that if I
ever went back I would take it all in. And I was lucky – I was back with
Liverpool in 1996 against Manchester United. We lost, but I really enjoyed the
game and I can remember every moment. But the 88 final is just a blur.
Dave Beasant: As we walked around the pitch with the Cup, some
of the lads spotted Harry Bassett in the gantry. Waving the Cup to him meant
a lot to us.
John Fashanu: I remember it clearly too. Harry was our man. Bobby
Gould was the grizzly bear with his big eyebrows, but it was Harry’s side.
Vinnie Jones: I remember seeing Dave Bassett and waving the Cup
to him shouting: “This one’s for you Harry!” I’d known
Harry since I was 12. When he was still playing at Wimbledon, he used to come
down and take training. He had faith in me and I had nothing but for respect
for him and this was my moment, my chance, to say thanks.
Dave Beasant: Bobby Gould knew he had inherited a great squad.
Harry may have gone, but we wanted to make sure he knew he was part of this.
And I can remember as clear as day seeing him waving at us.
When we got to the dressing room it was quiet. That was when reality finally
set in. We had just beaten the Team of the Decade, the mighty Liverpool, the
favourites for the Double. Little-fancied Wimbledon from tiny Plough Lane had
just produced one of the biggest upsets in Cup history. We were shell-shocked.
We’d always done things OTT. If we went drinking, everyone went drinking.
We would stay out until everyone else had gone. Now we were stunned.
Andy Thorn: We had done our celebrating on the pitch and this
was like a huge come-down. We were shaking each other’s hands, but it was
subdued. And then in walks Alan Cork.
Alan Cork: It was deathly silent. I didn’t expect that
at all. It was funny really. The spirit, the passion of the club had made us
famous. Little Wimbledon had just beaten Liverpool to win the FA Cup, the most
famous club tournament in the world. And not one player could muster a word in
the dressing room as I walked in. I suppose, looking back they were all dazed
and exhausted. Since the semi-final this moment was all we had lived for and
now it was over. But I wanted to make the most of it. There was a massive bar
in the corner of the dressing room and I strode up to it, past everyone, and
said: “Anyone fancy a beer?”
Andy Thorn: And that it was it. We must have been drunk solid
for the next week. We drank the bar dry and were diving in and out of the bath – it’s
more like a pool at Wembley.
Alan Cork: By the time we had clambered on the coach everyone
was singing. We were singing all the way back to Wimbledon, and I reckon some
of us didn’t stop until halfway through the next week.
John Fashanu: By the time we got on the coach, reality was starting
to set in. You bastards have just won the FA Cup. Raggedy-Arse Rovers have won
the Cup. It was simply fantastic.
Lawrie Sanchez: It is an amazing feeling to score the winning
goal at Wembley. But I spoke to a journalist friend before we got on the coach.
And he said: “Shame it was such a drab final, no one will remember your
goal.”
That comment saddened me at the time and I believed it. It hadn’t been
the prettiest of finals. But since then I’ve done two television programmes
solely on the goal, a documentary, and numerous radio shows around the world – and
I’m still being asked about it now. That goal is as well known as any other
from an FA Cup final. It pisses off everyone else from the team. It may not have
been a great game, but it was a famous final. It was the highlight of my career.
We were a good first division side, a top 10 side. We weren’t the pub team
everyone made us out to be. I was never a fans’ favourite like Vinnie Jones,
or Glyn Hodges before that. I had 10 years at Wimbledon. I was a limited player,
but I used what ability I had. I came back as reserve team manager a few years
later. And I have only happy memories of the 15 years I spent there. What we
achieved with 7,000 fans, going through all the divisions and winning the Cup
final, will never be achieved again.
Terry Phelan: That day in May, Wimbledon came of age. I was speechless – it
was a moment to savour and one I will always remember. Playing in the First Division
was immense, and then a cup final – it had all happened so fast.
The celebrations that night were mad. We went back to the Cannizaro Hotel after
the game. The Cup was placed on the floor and we danced round it. And then it
was onto the marquee at Plough Lane. I barely remember anything from after we
got to Plough Lane. I had had quite a lot by then. I vaguely remember all these
stars and models who all wanted a piece of the action.
Dave Beasant: Stanley Reed had wanted to take us all to the Hilton
no matter what the result, but that wasn’t our style. So we went for a
marquee on the pitch at Plough Lane. Every player had a table for 10 full of
family and friends. It was a quieter night because of that. If it had just been
the lads, God knows what would have happened.
Alan Cork: The marquee back at Plough Lane was fantastic. My
late mum wasn’t the greatest at staying out late, so I’d booked her
a cab for midnight. But by the time midnight came round she wasn’t going
anywhere. She didn’t leave until 3.30am. The rest of us kept going.
Andy Thorn: It was about 5am. But there was no public transport
and we couldn’t get back to the Cannizaro Hotel, where we were staying.
Corky and Wisey were there with their other halves. There were still a few policemen
around and one of them called back to the station to help us out. We had swiped
loads of wine and we gave them a couple of bottles.
Alan Cork: So we ended up getting a lift in the back of a police
van. I must have had three bottles of red and two of white, and we were swigging
away with the police in the back of the van. And then it was back to the Cannizaro
to keep going. By 9am I don’t think any of us knew where we were.
Andy Thorn: We only managed about an hour and a half’s
kip before we had to head off back to Plough Lane for the parade through Wimbledon.
John Scales: It was a late, late night to say the least. Me and
Wisey were on Frost on Sunday the day after. I’d love to see a video of
that; we must have looked in a pretty awful state. Then there was the bus to
Wimbledon. We left Plough Lane and there were no crowds. We were thinking: “We’re
just little Wimbledon, no one really cares.” And then we turned the corner
into the town centre.
Terry Phelan: There were all these yellow and blue flags waving.
We wanted to know where they had all appeared from – we’d never seen
that at a game.
John Fashanu: I didn’t get drunk the night before; it would
have affected me badly. I was so exhausted, I would have collapsed and I wanted
to enjoy the moment. The parade was amazing, seeing so many Wimbledon fans. I
couldn’t believe it – none of us could. The whole of Wimbledon a
sea of yellow and blue. And for that reason alone, I’m glad I stayed sober.
Andy Thorn: We got up to the balcony. It turned out the mayor
had a bar in his chambers, so we went through that too.
Alan Cork: Anyone who’s seen pictures of the victory parade
will have noticed that I was just sitting at the back of the bus with sunglasses
on. I could barely bloody move. But the drinking just carried on, all the way
through the reception at the town hall and on to my testimonial on the Monday.
Then there was the mooning incident. Vinnie started that. The crowd were singing: “Vinnie,
Vinnie, show us your bum!” So he did. And the rest of us thought, what
the hell, and we mooned as well. And it was us lot who all got charged – Vinnie
got away with it! But those were good times and that night at my testimonial
was another amazing one. I can’t imagine any club ever celebrating like
the Wimbledon of 1988. We were special.
Andy Thorn: The only downside of it all was that Bobby Gould
refused to take us on a pre-season trip. He said we were uncontrollable and right
then I suppose we were. Those few days were like a dream come true and the good
thing about Wimbledon was that it felt like all your family were there too.
Clive Goodyear: The final and the celebrations afterwards at
Plough Lane proved to be the highlight of my career. I damaged my knee in the
Charity Shield and was out injured for the next 13 months. The lads were great.
Vinnie Jones organised a whip-round and they raised enough money to pay for a
holiday to Portugal – that was a nice gesture. I battled hard to get back,
but I never again reached the standard I would have liked and that was the reason
I left. I managed four more games for the club and then I went to Brentford.
I had never wanted to leave, but I just knew I would never be able to do the
team justice again and that hurt.
Dave Beasant: I didn’t figure that the Cup final would
be my last game for Wimbledon. When Dave Bassett had left the year before, I
felt it was my time to go as well. I didn’t envisage Wimbledon ever reaching
the FA Cup final. I spoke to Bobby Gould and he persuaded me to stay, but we
made an agreement that if any club ever came in for me he would let me know.
I remember we played Newcastle a couple of times in the cups that year, and we
beat them both times. And after the League Cup tie they offered £350,000,
but Bobby told them to come back with an offer of £750,000, which would
have been a record for a goalkeeper back then. And, I thought, that was that.
I was happy at Wimbledon anyway, so it didn’t bother me. I didn’t
even think about leaving after the Cup final. But then Bobby called me and said
the club had accepted an £850,000 offer from Newcastle. And I suppose there
was no better way to leave Wimbledon than having just won the FA Cup.
Andy Thorn: It was my last game for the club too. I never wanted
to leave. I’d read all these rumours linking with me with a move to Newcastle.
Dave Beasant was already there by then, and I’d been made club captain.
That’s a quiz question for you: “Who was the Wimbledon captain after
Dave Beasant?” It wasn’t Vinnie Jones, it was me. About two weeks
after Dave left, Bobby Gould told me they had accepted an offer from Newcastle.
In the end it was to work out at over £1m.
Lawrie Sanchez: What saddens me is the situation now. My history
has been extinguished with the demise of Wimbledon FC. With the attempt to move
to Milton Keynes, how can they claim a creditable line to Wimbledon? I have a
great respect for what AFC Wimbledon have done - and the fans have the same great
memories as I do - but AFC Wimbledon have never won the FA Cup. The 1988 Cup
final has been consigned to history – it belongs to neither club. It belongs
solely to the players who played in it and the fans who watched it.
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