An Amazing Night With The Soccer Gods

Some people would have been scared. Others would have thought the behavior barbaric. It was one of the last seasons when standing at top soccer games would be allowed. It was the most exciting two hours of my life. Manchester United took the field against the mighty Spanish giants called Barcelona. In the ranks of the Catalans was a certain Diego Maradona the Argentinean superstar. The game was played over two legs, one at home and one away. It didn’t look good because the Spanish team had beaten United in Spain by two goals to nil. Could United turn things around? I left work early and queued outside the Stretford End, the famous terracing at Old Trafford, the home of Manchester United. The waiting seemed like hours in the rain but Manchester is famous for rain and a little precipitation wasn’t going to spoil our evening. Nobody wanted to miss this game. I had no idea where any of my friends were but didn’t care. This was going to be one hell of a game of football. When I eventually got in, the left side of the tunnel, where I normally stood, was already overcrowded, the right side was barely any better. We were squashed like sardines and soaking wet. Could we do it? The game started and the first United attack was met with an almighty rush from the back of the terrace. My feet didn’t touch the ground for the next few minutes as we swayed from side to side and up and down. There were two reasons why it was difficult to catch your breath, the first was the intensity of the match, the second was because your ribs were crushed up against your lungs. I don’t believe we stopped singing the whole game, the stadium was deafening. Then Bryan Robson the United captain and talisman scored and we had a chance. Then Frank Stapleton took a shot that the goalkeeper fumbled and Robson followed in to score again. Now we all believed. Come on United you can do it. Maradona threatened a couple of times but nothing was going to stop us now. Stapleton added a third with a volley and the most glorious night in twenty years was won. We had beaten the tournament favorites 3-2 on aggregate after losing the first leg 2-0. I couldn’t speak for two days, my voice belonged to the football gods. Tears fell from the face of hardened men, and those not so hard, like myself. Dockworkers and railway men cried with joy, unashamed in the knowledge that United were back on the trail of glory. Bryan Robson said that the atmosphere at Old Trafford that night was the best he ever witnessed as a player. He added that the pitch was shaking. The Stretford End certainly was, and so was I. Injuries and a good Juventus side knocked us out at the semi final stage. Bryan Robson, missed the games and without our talisman, Juventus were too good. But nobody can ever forget the game against Barcelona. Now every rich club in the world wanted to sign Bryan Robson. Bryan wanted to stay at Manchester United. Despite a season with no trophies, the horizon was very bright. This article has been taken from Robert Carters’ new book, ‘From Salford to Tucson and Back Again, The Globetrotting Memoirs of a Manchester United Fanatic’.