Because the game went into extra time I ended up being late for my evening paper round. Most people were ok with getting their Argus a bit later than normal but there were a few moany old gits, I didn't care, England had won the World Cup!
I was twelve when I watched England win The World Cup in 1966 on television. I'm afraid it really didn't matter much to me, I've never been bothered about international football.
Domestic club football has always been what it's all about for me.Obviously, 1973 is the year that stands out but I was more disappointed when you just failed to beat manu in '83 than by any England defeat, and you're not my team.
I assume you are referring to that little match at Wembley....July 30 1966.
Watched all the build-up ( in black and white of course ) and then the match itself. Heart stopping stuff. A goal down, then seconds from winning and then victory snatched away. The controversy in extra time and then the ultimate triumph.
The memories are still as sharp today as then...
1) Bobby Moore...truly magnificent. A leader amongst men. Superb free-kick finding Hurst in space for his first and then, in the dying seconds, with the whole nation screaming for him to boot it into the stand, he looked up and dropped a 60 yard ball over Geoff Hurst's shoulder, into his path and the rest is history.
Wiping his hands, before he shook hands with the queen...." its only 12 inches high but its made of solid gold and it means...etc " Being hoisted aloft by his teammates. They all knew how good he was and they loved him.
2) Alan Ball...just ran and ran and ran. Never stopped. If the game had lasted 3 hours, Bally would still have been running his heart out....When Hurst slammed in the 4th, only one player was within 20 yards of him. Bally...who leapt straight into his arms. MOM for a lot of people.
3) Alf Ramsey...the man who said we would win the World Cup and was laughed at. The man who insisted on picking his own team and not allowing an FA committee to do it. The man who stuck by Nobby Stiles when the FA wanted him dropped for his appalling tackle against a Frenchman in the group..." if he goes, I go " The man who had the courage to leave out possibly the best striker in Europe ( Greaves ) from the Final and play the journeymen Hunt and Hurst together. The man who saw all his players sitting shattered on the turf at the end of normal time and went round all of them, dragging them to their feet. He pointed to the Germans, still sitting and told his players..." look, they're finished....you've won this once, now go out and do it again. The man at the end who stayed seated, drained of everything. The man who didn't join in the celebrations with his players..." its their moment " The man who took himself quietly down the tunnel and into English football immortality.
And now they are gone from us...the manager, the captain and the man of the match....nine still stand. Geoff Hurst gets most of the glory but above all, it was a fantastic team effort lead by an extraordinary manager. A man who had the courage of his convictions. A man who knitted some ordinary players around world class talent ( Banks/Moore/Charlton R ) A man who had the courage to change more than once during the tournament. Starting with wingers, perming different wide-men and then abandoning two wingers altogether. A man who deployed his best player ( Bobby Charlton ) to man-mark Franz Beckenbauer in the Final. Charlton was bitterly disappointed but he did it for Alf and the team.
They all pulled together as one. They were doing it for Alf. They would have run through brick walls for him. They loved him.
Thanks for the greatest day in English football. RIP.
The '66 World Cup was a significant watershed in my young life. The first major sports tournament that I was aware of on TV I(in black and white) and was addicted to the coverage. England winning was surreal. Later that year I was taken to watch my first live game at The Goldstone. For years thereafter every spare minute was spent playing or watching footie, jumpers for goalposts etc. Happy days.
The euphoria around the '66 World Cup win was akin to the feeling around the 2012 Olympics, Wiggo winning the TdF, Murray winning Wimbledon etc all rolled into one. Back then there was a real feel good factor with the colour of the sixties sweeping away the grey post war years. The fantastic British music scene also made it a very special time. Moon landings live on TV - everything seemed possible.
Watched it on TV. Wrote in my diary that it was "thrilling".
Remember what you were doing? I remember eating endless boiled sweets above Dad's off licence in Western Road as a starter.