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It was 1967, and Chelsea were playing Tottenham in the FA Cup Final.
Spurs were the "team of the decade" in the Sixties, and were expected
to win easily. Chelsea just didn't have a chance, apparently.
All my mates decided they would support Tottenham for the day. It was
inevitable that they would, I suppose, as it minimised the chances
that they'd support the losing team that way. My mind has always
worked differently, so I declared that Chelsea were the team for me.
Little did I guess that that decision would be the start of an almost
lifelong obsession. Chelsea lost that Cup Final (as we all know), I
was the butt of my mates' jokes for a few months, and I became a die-hard
Chelsea fan.
A year after the 1967 Cup Final, I went to boarding school. In that
environment (certainly in those days), everybody had to have a badge of
some sort pinned to them. This was especially true of the football team
you supported. I was the one Chelsea fan in the boarding house. Most of
the rest of them seemed to be fans of Leeds, Tottenham and Southampton.
So imagine my delight when Chelsea won the FA Cup for the first time
in 1970, especially when it was Leeds that we beat. Bear in mind that
the whole school was allowed to skip the mandatory homework session
in order to watch the replay, and you can see how sweet the victory
was. The winning of the Cup-Winners' Cup the following season was the
icing on the cake for me.
I was hooked, absolutely and totally. Even losing the League Cup Final
in 1972 didn't dampen my ardour. I was determined one day to get to a
match at Stamford Bridge, but it wasn't going to be possible until I'd
left school. (Perversely, the first professional football match I ever
went to was Plymouth v Notts County, in the old Third Division. That
was in one of the school holidays in 1972, I think. Plymouth lost 4-1).
When I left school, I went to Brunel University, which is in Uxbridge,
Middlesex. It was just a short tube-ride to Stamford Bridge, so it
didn't take too long for me to start going to the home games. Being on
a very low student grant, I couldn't go too often, but I went as often
as I could. By that time, Chelsea's form was on a downward spiral, but
it didn't stop me enjoying every game that I ever went to.
I have good memories and bad memories of that time. I remember watching
a 3-3 draw with Wolves (11th December 1976), when both teams were flying
high at the top of the Second Division. That was a good memory. But then
I also remember the hooliganism and the fear every time I travelled to
and from the Bridge; I seemed always to be in a train full of Gooners,
and hiding my blue and white scarf was of paramount importance in order
to avoid a beating.
It would have been so easy to give up then, and switch allegiance to a
more successful team. But you just don't do that, do you? Football is
like that, a little success, then a lot of mediocrity, then a bit more
success (if you're lucky). With Chelsea in the 70's and 80's, there was
a lot of mediocrity and precious little success.
But my patience has been rewarded in recent years. Glenn Hoddle started the
resurgence, Ruud Gullit continued the good work, and now Luca Vialli has a
truly world class squad to run. Now every season looks like being a
successful one. As roller-coasters go, the Chelsea ride has had more low
points than high. Many is the time that I've despaired at the bad luck
and/or poor form of the team, but I've stuck with them in the sure and
certain belief that it will eventually get better.
Thanks to Glenn, Ruud and Luca, it might just get perfect.
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