MY WEMBLEY WAYS

Between June 1984 and October 1991, I went to all but five of England’s twenty-nine home games. Yet, to quote old-time comic Harry Worth: “I don’t know why but there it is.”

I was no England fan even then. Very much a wearer of the green when an insipid Republic of Ireland side watched from a distance as Gary Lineker opened his England account in 1 BC (before Charlton). Likewise later that year when Northern Ireland were England’s opposition.

And the green-shirted Germans got my – covert – support during the Italia ’90 semi-final, as I sat among the ill-fitting England shirts (mediums on XXL bodies), all “two World Wars and one World Cup.” The irony here being that I’d probably been to more England games than any of them – maybe even the rest of them put together – including all bar one of that very tournament’s Wembley qualifiers.

So maybe England were just my best option of seeing Wembley, a place you always wanted to go to until you got there. My clubs offered little hope. Main team Kingstonian had never ventured beyond the FA Trophy’s qualifying rounds. I wasn’t regular enough at Spurs to get a sniff of Wembley tickets. While Celtic’s only route was European finals. And their mid-80s sides would have struggled to make a Glasgow Cup final.

England, though, would have struggled to fill Plough Lane if the weather was bad, having failed to qualify for Euro ’84 and severely UN-distinguished themselves in the recent (and still most recent) Home Internationals. And bright sunshine only brought 38,000 to England against USSR, my Wembley debut. I was suitably impressed with the stadium, until I needed the toilet and something to eat (not necessarily in that order, as it turned out), and with the team…until kick-off. Manager Bobby Robson tried a bold 4-2-4 formation with Stoke’s exciting youngster Mark Chamberlain (whatever happened to…?) and Watford’s John Barnes down the flanks. But with Manchester United’s Mike Duxbury in defence, it might as well have been Neville Chamberlain and Channel Five’s John Barnes.

England escaped at two-nil. But eight days later, Barnes weaves in-and-out of a Brazilian defence at the Maracana and “England are back” – the chant which echoed down Wembley Way after a late Bryan Robson goal gave England a one-nil win over East Germany in my second Wembley visit, that September.

The crowd that night could almost have fitted into Plough Lane. So “back” was the only way for England to come. Indeed, I didn’t see England lose again for six years and twenty-one matches; a two-one friendly defeat against Uruguay which included the rarely-sighted landmark, a good John Barnes performance in an England shirt at Wembley.

And I never saw England lose a competitive game, thanks largely to relatively straightforward qualifying groups and some good performances – especially defensively, Terry Butcher notwithstanding.

Only one goal was conceded at Wembley in Mexico ’86 qualification. A five-nil win over Finland still registers not one jot. But Chris Waddle’s goal in the five-nil against Turkey does. Remarkable for the run past, oooh, loads of defenders (and a bemused Peter Beardsley at least once) which set up the shot and more remarkable still for that shot being with his right foot.

Then there was the nil-nil against Northern Ireland which ensured that they joined England in the finals (handy, that). All would have been spoiled if England had scored late on – three yards out, only a very 40-year-old-looking Pat Jennings to beat. The chance went to Kerry Dixon. Northern Ireland went to Mexico.

The only game England should have lost was a Euro ’88 qualifier dominated by a Yugoslav side which had three Kerry Dixons up-front. England ‘hit-‘em-on-the-break’ to win two-nil, before playing like the home team when going four-up after forty minutes of the Belgrade return.

Such a ‘fortress-Wembley’ mentality would be useful now.

Poland and/or Turkey were regular visitors. Alas, I missed 1987’s eight-nil demolition of Turkey – my England ‘career’ overstocked with meaningless only goal victories in friendlies against hapless Danes (post-the great 1984 side, pre-the Euro ’92 champions). But as qualification became standard, so England games became more popular, and problematical.

It seems incredible now, how badly organised Wembley internationals were. Twice, my match ticket was no help obtaining my seat – a concrete step being against safety regulations but the only way to see an Italia ’90 qualifier against Sweden. And a third was for the Scotland end (England were playing Scotland – organisation wasn’t that bad), with Anglo-Scots ‘entente’ hardly ‘cordiale.’ Fortunately, my red hair and celtic good-looks (OK, my hair) saw me blend in. And I was neutral, of course. But I vowed that, for such games, I’d never again use dodgy ticket outlets like…Wembley Box Office.

Xenophobia always threatened. Fortunately, again, my experience was more ludicrous than dangerous. Argentina’s first post-Falklands Wembley match was played to the tune of “What’s it like to lose a war?” But they looked and played like refugees from a rock festival, so the atmosphere wasn’t further soured…until headers from Iron Maiden’s rhythm section turned a two-nil England stroll into a two-all draw. The more close-cropped England fans turned deep purple (sorry!), especially when the Argentinians then unfurled a giant national flag and embarked upon Wembley’s cheekiest-ever lap-of-honour. With no “f*****g Argies” in the crowd, English rage could only mix with confusion, producing a bizarre, embittered silence.

Only vital England games were televised live, pre-Sky, and they were rarely Wembley qualifiers. But I wouldn’t go to England games now, even if they weren’t live in every local. And, as I say, I don’t know why I ever did.

Mark Murphy’s England Career Statistics

Won 19, drew 7, lost 3. Goals for, 52, against, 17.

Biggest win, 5-0, Finland, Turkey, Albania. Defeat, 0-2, USSR.

Quietest full-house: 80,000, Brazil (first Wembley all-seater).

Most blatant ‘hand-of-God’: Stuart Pearce against Brazil.

If he can play for England, so can I: Peter Davenport against Irish Republic.

Most money collected: Nine pounds (all coins), thrown at Irish Republic fans by the English contingent above them.

‘MotorMurph’ is written by Mark Murphy

Entry Filed under: MotorMurph Column

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