Battling the withdrawal symptoms of no football this summer has had my mind ticking over about all things brilliant to do with the beautiful game....just what is it that makes this craving worse than a smoker to nicotine or Katie Price to publicity, i've been thinking about my first ever match and how the glimmer of the floodlights making the pitch appear as if it were a green glowing patch of excitement on which just about anything was possible, the smell in the air of bovril, hot dogs, pastries and cigarettes (back in the days when smoking was permitted in British stadia) and how there always seems to be one man in a pocket of 10 supporters who happens to be wearing a distinctively large amount of aftershave, usually Brut.
My first match was actually a reserve fixture between Leicester and Barnsley through a friend of a friend's ability to get free FNF (Family Night Football) tickets, not that they were particularly sought after but when you're eight years of age anythings pretty exciting if its free. Little did I know that this would be the night when the drug of football would enter my bloodstream and take me to places I never dreamed of going. Still you have to start somewhere and my baptism of fire was rather a chilly one on a November evening at Filbert street sat up high in the rather swish Carling stand looking down on the dilapidated east stand and empty Shanks and McEwan south 'kop' stand and with a few taking residence in the McDonalds family enclosure for some unbeknown reason from where the view was terrible.
The memories of that night after all the build up were pretty insignificant, Barnsley stole the lead through a penalty and the only other highlight of the game being an attempted shot clearing the family stand and hitting a residents door in nearby burnmoor street, clearly visible from our vantage point, as we watched an elderly gentleman open his front door to find the ball sitting proudly in the gutter to then pick it up and proceed to go and look for some kids who had belted it at the front of his house.
Just as we exited the ground there was a loud cheer so whether or not Leicester had equalized or the nights caterers were offering discount on the remaining pies and 'rollover' hotdogs remains a mystery to us all. Most importantly I had broken my duck and it was straight down to the newsagents to purchase a copy of Premier League sticker album 1994-5 edition and get to know my new hobby a little better by swapping Ian Pearce and Boncho Genchev for that all important Norwich City shiny amongst other transfers throughout the course of term-time, its little wonder my education suffered.
The mid 90's were a fantastic time to become a football fan, Italia '90 (unbeknownst to me) had revived football in England and given renewed hope and optimism that we were actually good at something and with the launch of the Premiership in 1992 England would have a division to rival the rest of Europe's elite. Not to mention Euro '96 coming to these shores, what a time that was, the only time in living memory my little village just outside of Loughborough has had drunken foreigners hanging out of car doors mumbling the national anthem, football fever had truly gripped the nation.
Then there was Gazza against the Scot's! After Seaman's incredible save from a Gary McAllister penalty a non-injured Darren Anderton played in the bleach-headed Gascoigne to make Colin Hendry bow down before him and volley the perfect shot past Andy Goram, then of course the heartbreak of Gazza being a toe's width away from sending us into the final at the expense of the Germans only for Gareth Southgate to suffer the same fate as Waddle and Pearce in 1990 and blow a spot-kick, at least it didn't put him off his pizza I suppose...
Slightly before all that Euro '96 hoo-ha i'd had the pleasure of watching Steve Claridge shin my now beloved Leicester into the Premiership via the top corner of Nigel Martyn's net, he'd go on to play for England you know.....Martyn, not Claridge. Super Steve was unstoppable as he would later strike the winner in the Coca-Cola Cup replayed final at Hillsborough to send us all on a European holiday in the UEFA cup but that's another story. The 90's in general were a brilliant time to be a Leicester City supporter after tasting relegation in my first season of 1994-5 from the Premiership, then promotion the following season it was almost like a sign of things to come.
The years of 1997-99 were some of the best I have ever experienced as a football supporter, an incredible first season for Leicester knocking Manchester United out of the Coca-cola-cup on the way to winning it at Hillsborough, a 9th place finish in the first Premiership season and a European spot by way of that cup win, all those who thought it fashionable to follow United or Arsenal despite being an equal 110 miles from each were beginning to turn and take notice of this club on their doorstep and Filbert street every week was a sell out.
The good times look to be coming back to Leicester and indeed football in general with the investment into clubs being key for their success, its sad that now clubs have to buy success in order write their own history and not take the time to build a team with players from all directions such as Blackpool the season previous, a team of cast-off's turned into a force to be reckoned with who gave the Premiership more than its best shot. The rustic charm of the 90's seems to have been lost from football in this country, very rarely now can you wander into a stadium without being surrounded by plastic and overwhelming advertising, I remember being at Aston Villa not so long ago and seeing on the screen whenever the ball went out 'CORNER KICK-IN ASSOCIATION WITH LADBROKES' 'THROW IN SPONSORED BY THE CORNER FLAG RESTAURANT' the last one was a bit bizarre,surely that needs looking at?
To finish though, football is evolving all the time, even the arabs now love a good kick about it seems with Qatar due to host the 2022 world cup and Dr Sheikh Mansour and co running Manchester City to success after expense. Maybe Sepp Blatters dream is coming true, he wanted to bring football to the world but also didn't mind if the world payed him a few quid for the priveledge.....
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