One for Terry

[Newmarket]

[Brookbonds73]

I remember it well.
My old dad had gotten a ticket for the semi at Villa. And we managed to get two for the replay at Stamford bridge. But we were fucked for the final.
In those days you had to collect the vouchers out of the programmes and we only had one lot.
For weeks after I kept asking dad if there was any luck getting another, always the same reply, no son.
As the match got closer I'd given up hope, but still kept hoping.
Then on the Friday dad came in from work, any luck dad? No mate, I tried but all the blokes in work are going, sorry son. I was heartbroken.
I'd resigned myself to watching it on the box, the build up was great in those days, but nothing compared to being there, of course.
I remember it being late and Dad sorting out his bits and bobs ready for the match tomorrow, he said, mustn't forget this, holding up the ticket. You off to bed mate, yeah dad I said. Hold on he said, do you want to go, I thought he'd gone off his nut! How?
Well I got this today and there it was, ANOTHER ticket!!! I thought my heart would stop!! How dya do that! Never mind, I just did. Now get to bed, we're off to Wembley tomorrow. Fucking bed, sleep, fuck that, I never slept a wink!!!
The next day was a blur, the trip on the underground to Wembley, full of Hammers, the walk to the stadium, up the stairs and there it was, the size of it, fucking massive, players looking like ants. But we were there!
0-0, we need a goal, bang the whippet sticks one in, our end erupted, the steps underneath actually shook! Bubbles ringing out everywhere. Nerves kicks in, that fucking clocks slow! Bosh, the whippets at it again 2-0, fucking Pandemonium up our end. Clocks still slow, but they need to score 2 now. Final whistle, we've done it!! The tunnel end starts to empty, our end is rammed solid, only one thing left now. The team walks up the steps, led by my hero Billy Bonds. Finally he lifts up the cup, the cheers from our end are deafening. The team come to our end, adorned with scarves hats crossed hammers, you name it, they had it!
The walk down Wembley way afterwards was a sight to behold, Happy fans, everywhere. The train home was special, bubbles being sung constantly all the way back to the East end.
I didn't go to the open bus parade, I'd had my day with my dad, that was enough.
But boy, what a fucking day that was!

[terrya1965]

I'm not that old Tim

Seems a lifetime ago.

I was 10 years old mate.A few of you may know,I lived in North London,but everyone knew our family were big West Ham fans.My Mum always dressed the place up in claret and blue ,when West Ham reached a Final. and she always made it a big occasion.Food,drink etc.

I do remember the day,but not so much has the build up and all the Rounds in 1980.

Remember my first hero, Bobby Moore in the Fulham side,which I think we all found odd and the hero of the Cup run ,Alan Taylor.

If you had to give me a TOP 10 Hall of Fame of West Ham,Taylor would be in mine.

It`s just a pity we have to go back so far to remember us lifting top silverware,though we all know we should have had in 2006.Still grates on me big time.

[terrya1965]

I remember it well.
My old dad had gotten a ticket for the semi at Villa. And we managed to get two for the replay at Stamford bridge. But we were fucked for the final.
In those days you had to collect the vouchers out of the programmes and we only had one lot.
For weeks after I kept asking dad if there was any luck getting another, always the same reply, no son.
As the match got closer I'd given up hope, but still kept hoping.
Then on the Friday dad came in from work, any luck dad? No mate, I tried but all the blokes in work are going, sorry son. I was heartbroken.
I'd resigned myself to watching it on the box, the build up was great in those days, but nothing compared to being there, of course.
I remember it being late and Dad sorting out his bits and bobs ready for the match tomorrow, he said, mustn't forget this, holding up the ticket. You off to bed mate, yeah dad I said. Hold on he said, do you want to go, I thought he'd gone off his nut! How?
Well I got this today and there it was, ANOTHER ticket!!! I thought my heart would stop!! How dya do that! Never mind, I just did. Now get to bed, we're off to Wembley tomorrow. Fucking bed, sleep, fuck that, I never slept a wink!!!
The next day was a blur, the trip on the underground to Wembley, full of Hammers, the walk to the stadium, up the stairs and there it was, the size of it, fucking massive, players looking like ants. But we were there!
0-0, we need a goal, bang the whippet sticks one in, our end erupted, the steps underneath actually shook! Bubbles ringing out everywhere. Nerves kicks in, that fucking clocks slow! Bosh, the whippets at it again 2-0, fucking Pandemonium up our end. Clocks still slow, but they need to score 2 now. Final whistle, we've done it!! The tunnel end starts to empty, our end is rammed solid, only one thing left now. The team walks up the steps, led by my hero Billy Bonds. Finally he lifts up the cup, the cheers from our end are deafening. The team come to our end, adorned with scarves hats crossed hammers, you name it, they had it!
The walk down Wembley way afterwards was a sight to behold, Happy fans, everywhere. The train home was special, bubbles being sung constantly all the way back to the East end.
I didn't go to the open bus parade, I'd had my day with my dad, that was enough.
But boy, what a fucking day that was!

In 1980,I was cheated with their lottery system..We were given these orange and white cards for the Semi-Finals and Final and mine never came in for either,but my eldest brothers and cousins did for both.Gutted,because I went to quite a few games that year.

[Brookbonds73]

I remember it well.
My old dad had gotten a ticket for the semi at Villa. And we managed to get two for the replay at Stamford bridge. But we were fucked for the final.
In those days you had to collect the vouchers out of the programmes and we only had one lot.
For weeks after I kept asking dad if there was any luck getting another, always the same reply, no son.
As the match got closer I'd given up hope, but still kept hoping.
Then on the Friday dad came in from work, any luck dad? No mate, I tried but all the blokes in work are going, sorry son. I was heartbroken.
I'd resigned myself to watching it on the box, the build up was great in those days, but nothing compared to being there, of course.
I remember it being late and Dad sorting out his bits and bobs ready for the match tomorrow, he said, mustn't forget this, holding up the ticket. You off to bed mate, yeah dad I said. Hold on he said, do you want to go, I thought he'd gone off his nut! How?
Well I got this today and there it was, ANOTHER ticket!!! I thought my heart would stop!! How dya do that! Never mind, I just did. Now get to bed, we're off to Wembley tomorrow. Fucking bed, sleep, fuck that, I never slept a wink!!!
The next day was a blur, the trip on the underground to Wembley, full of Hammers, the walk to the stadium, up the stairs and there it was, the size of it, fucking massive, players looking like ants. But we were there!
0-0, we need a goal, bang the whippet sticks one in, our end erupted, the steps underneath actually shook! Bubbles ringing out everywhere. Nerves kicks in, that fucking clocks slow! Bosh, the whippets at it again 2-0, fucking Pandemonium up our end. Clocks still slow, but they need to score 2 now. Final whistle, we've done it!! The tunnel end starts to empty, our end is rammed solid, only one thing left now. The team walks up the steps, led by my hero Billy Bonds. Finally he lifts up the cup, the cheers from our end are deafening. The team come to our end, adorned with scarves hats crossed hammers, you name it, they had it!
The walk down Wembley way afterwards was a sight to behold, Happy fans, everywhere. The train home was special, bubbles being sung constantly all the way back to the East end.
I didn't go to the open bus parade, I'd had my day with my dad, that was enough.
But boy, what a fucking day that was!

In 1980,I was cheated with their lottery system..We were given these orange and white cards for the Semi-Finals and Final and mine never came in for either,but my eldest brothers and cousins did for both.Gutted,because I went to quite a few games that year.

That was a good year for watching us. It all started at West Brom in the cup. 1-0 up with seconds left, and big Cyrill Regis sticks it in with his arm. Ref gave it. Caused murders outside the ground.
Still we went on to win it again, so happy days.

[palerider]

I was there. I bought a scarf too for the occasion. I still have it. You wore them on your wrist at the time.

I played cricket with a bloke called Derek Key who was a good mate of Lampard Snr and he got us tickets. For face value it has to be said.

Back then I hadn't discovered the unique delights of industrial cleaning fluid and coke so I don't remember being wankered either before or after but I remember the goals going in.

I think we retired to a hostelry in Barking, probably the Royal Oak, later on for a pint or three before I got the train back to Sarfend. Some know it as the Fly House. It was my usual watering hole through school and close to Barking Park where I could go dogging on my way back to the station.

So pretty boring really. The 1923 final was much better. We had rattles and rosettes and ate pickled mice from a big jar. How we cheered and threw our caps into the air shouting 'Hussar' when the teams came onto the field. How we laughed as the horse trampled over a working class oik. How we nodded with acceptance after our defeat, shaking hands with Bolton supporters saying 'Well played you malnourished northern chaps'.

Those were the days.

[Dwayne Pipes]

Bit of a blur really memories fucked ,went with a group of lads from school, up to Plaistow on the rattler to Wembley ,some of us got on the pitch celebrating afterwards then down to Trafalgar Square for a knees up.
Was up near the town hall for the parade next day what a special couple of days they were and will cherish forever
All the houses in the borough decked out in claret and blue was a joy to behold.

Wonderful.

[tassiehammer]

6 of us turned up with dodgy tickets we bought off some horrible cunt, who I hope died a slow painful death , in the Swan at Stratford. No point getting it on with Fulham fans, they had Mooro, so got on the piss instead. Still happy days though.