OUR WEE COUNTRY

Football Came Home

In 1980, the then West Germans were crowned European Champions in Italy, with a highly accomplished team, that 2 years later were to become runners up in the World Cup. Many of the stars of this German team were world renowned, and included such famous names as Rummenigge, Allofs, Littbarski, a young Voller and an even younger Matthaeus, and of course the infamous Schumacher. Norn Iron were due to meet this German side in their first Euro home fixture in late 1982.

Norn Iron also had a famous side in this year, with their performances in the World Cup becoming legendary. However, a defeat in their first match of the Euro campaign (Austria 0-2), had both the critics and some fans doubting their ability to continue the form shown in Spain. Some even believed that the World Cup exploits were a one off. However, all the doubters were to be silenced yet again, at a rainswept Windsor Park in November 1982.

The build up to the game was quite intense, as a few weeks before the Germans beat England 2-1 in a friendly match at Wembley, with their striker Rummenigge getting both goals. This result only furthered the writing off of Norn Iron’s chances. In terms of attractiveness, this game was one of the biggest for years in Belfast, with the Germans boasting a tremendous track record. But more importantly it was Norn Iron’s homecoming, their first game home since the heroics of Spain, and it was sure to be a momentous occasion.

Like many a youth at that time, I had an interest in this game and was going to make sure I was at it. I was planning it 3 weeks before, foremost was the arrangements with the mates, because everyone appeared to be going and speculating about this match. Then there was the question of parents consent, as a 12 year old this was necessary. The tactic employed was playing one parent against the other. “But dad… mum says it’s alright,… well, if she says so, then I suppose it’s ok!” and vice versa.In the few days prior to the match, public interest in the game increased, but for me personally, on match day things really got cooking. All day at school, it was on my mind, with class mates talking about it. After getting home from school, I called on the mates to see who all was allowed to go.

There were 3 of us going and we arranged to meet up later. Once I had finished my paper round, I threw my ‘Tele-Sack’ into the house, grabbed a quick bite to eat, and then tried to leg it. However, my dad had just returned from work in the shipyard, and read me the riot act, warning me that if I saw any trouble, to steer clear. (These words were repeated on match night for many a year!) Likewise I was reminded that Northern Ireland wore green & white - and not to take any Linfield scarves.

I eventually got away, met up with the friends and hastily boarded a Citybus, in this era of public transport, fraudulent practises were common place, with double stamping one’s bus ticket the most common, but tonight we weren’t taking any risks as getting to the match on time was essential. After arriving at the city hall, the wait for the Donegal Road bus seemed forever, but there was a good crowd going to Windsor on this bus, and it was no time before it reached Donegal Avenue. Kick off was fast approaching and there was an urgency to get off the bus. Like many other younger fans, me and the mates bombed up Donegal Ave. once we seen the glare of the floodlights and heard the Windsor roar.

Donegal Ave was crowded with match goers, and at the Windsor Park end, the traders were cleaning up. A new scarf and the biggest flag I could buy, were bought with the money I had saved for this match. Once purchased, the running began once more, only this time to the Spion Kop via Olympia Drive. After a long queue at the turnstiles we got into the ground just after kick off. The ground was packed and there were still more outside. The attendance was 30000, but with kids doubling up, more likely 35000 a realistic figure. (A far cry from the big gates of 10000 nowadays!)

Windsor was rainswept, but the atmosphere was terrific with a party feel to it in view of the Spain World Cup heroics. After a few early scares, the home team settled, and the crowd cheered on the World Cup heroes. In particular Whiteside who was making his home debut. An unknown Ian Stewart was also making a home debut.

We decided to move from the Kop end, onto the Olympia Terracing where some of our friend were. For all you youngsters reading this, the Olympia Terracing was where the North Stand is now. The name of the game was to get yourself seen at the match, and hopefully on T.V. Once through the gates of Olympia Terracing, we found a good view at the Kop end, and stated to watch the game in detail. This was well timed, because almost immediately, about 20 minutes into the game Ian Stewart intercepted a ball on the left hand edge of the box, attacking the railway end. His back was facing us, and I clearly remember seeing him strike the ball from over 20 yards. I recall thinking to myself, He’s not going to try and score from that distance, but I followed the ball, as it bobbled under Schumacher. The crowd had been cheering him on up until he took his shot, but once it hit the back of the net, Windsor erupted and all hell broke loose!

Like everyone else, I jumped like a lunatic, but being small, I was smothered by the crowd, and carried about 6 terraces down towards the pitch. As usual when a goal is scored against the Germans, the cheering and celebrations seemed to last forever. Ian Stewart ran towards the Olympia end and this added more fuel to the celebrations. Amazingly, we were beating the clear favourites, Germany, and the Spain 82 celebrations were continuing yet again, only this time at a rainswept and deafening Windsor Park. The party was now, literally in full swing! To be honest, I can never recall an atmosphere like it at Windsor, and perhaps I never will.

This was the acid test to see how far Norn Iron had come in world football, and we were winning. Both this, and the crowds celebrations further inspired the team, and they responded by playing some great football. The first half came to a close with Norn Iron in the lead. At the interval the celebrations were continuing, even at the burger stands. Everyone seemed to be singing.

The 2nd half just got better, as we were giving the Germans a hell of a game, and as usual the fans couldn’t get enough. Every move was cheered. “Norn Iron were beating the mighty Germans in every department, where the home fans were able to pour scorn on the champions of Europe, particularly Rummenigge.” Ronnie Hanna in Six Glorious Years. The polite way to say they were chanting “Rummenigge’s wife’s a whore”!

The last 10 minutes or so were very tense as the Germans attacked. However, yet again Binghams boys held out, and victory was achieved. The roar at the final whistle was immense, and the atmosphere reflected the whole game, one big celebration! Jimmy McIlroy reminded everyone that we had just beaten the second best team in the world and the Champions of Europe. Jurp Durwall, the German manager, said his strongest team was beaten by a superb Norn Iron performance and a fine goal.

After the match, we set off on our traditional route (via Donegall Ave. and Donegall Road) into the centre of town. We sang every Norn Iron football song over and over again, everyone seemed to be singing and celebrating. Perhaps the most satisfaction was gained when people stopped us to ask the score of the match. ‘We beat them 1-0’, we proudly replied, the look on their faces.

When we reached the city centre it was a mass of fans. Every bus stop was occupied by bus loads and queues of fans waiting to go home (how times have changed!). Our Cliftonville Road bus was packed, with the match being the topic of conversation. We had a safe journey home, no bricks though the windows, and the highlights of the game were watched by me and my family on Sportsnight.

Going to school the next morning was difficult. My throat ached, my voice was hoarse, a slight cold was gained and no homework had been done. As expected the first class of the day was spent talking about the match, who was at it, the goal etc. As the morning went by, it was forgot about to a slight degree, as everyday school goings on took over. During the lunch break, a commotion took place in the playground. Like most other pupils, me and the mates ran over to witness what we thought was a fair dig! But to our surprise it was Norn Iron’s new hero, Ian Stewart, trying to make his way to the staff common room in the French block.

This was quite a surprise, and it was soon discovered that Ian was a past pupil at Belfast Inst. and had left at 16 to pursue a successful football career. Like many other pupils, I queued beside Ian outside the staff room, hoping to get an autograph, but there was a mass of bigger pupils pushing to the front, and I was a little lost. At school we had record cards which teachers signed for misbehaviour etc. and mine was already well autographed 2 ½ months into term. Every pupil was trying to get theirs signed, and this signature would have been one on mine I would have welcomed.

One of the teachers realised the situation and came out of the staff room and called time and Ian was brought into the staff room. Like many others I hung around, but to no avail. When Ian was brought out again he was ushered away and I never did get his autograph. Although a little disappointed, I knew that unlike some who did get an autograph, I was at the game, and the memories were worth more than any autograph.

Later that evening when I was doing my paper round, the front page of the Telegraph had a picture of Ian in a pose in Top Man, Belfast, with his tracksuit on, and described his goal and new hero status. Like many a soccer star, Ian’s goal made him, but more importantly it helped change Norn Iron’s status in world soccer. After Spain and the success achieved, the German game was the acid test to see how far we had come in world football. Norn Iron unexpectedly delivered the goods and would continue to do so until 1986, with a further defeat of the Germans, another British Championship to retain forever and another World Cup. They continued to prove the critics wrong and gave the supporters of the team, in this era great memories.

It could be argued that if 1982 was the year when Norn Iron football came home, then the German match was the actual game in which it did so. We had witnessed the heroics in Spain and again we displayed them against one of the finest teams of this era and champions of Europe, West Germany.

Let’s hope that today’s performance against the European Champions is reminiscent of the 1982 game, and once again gives us loyal fans something to celebrate, remember and prove the critics wrong once again! - Come on Norn Iron, come on!

THE BALLYSILLAN DIEHARD