Catch A Falling Star (16 page)

To many people Malcolm’s bald statement, that we were ready to take on Europe, might have sounded a bit previous as many English teams had taken much longer to adjust to the demands of European football. Bill
Shankly’s
Liverpool
still seemed puzzled by the whole thing, even though they’d played many more games than us against continental opposition.

Week after week Shanks would see his team take the rest of the country apart and then he’d travel to Europe with his all-conquering red machine and they’d come unstuck. So he studied videos of continental games and eventually came to the
conclusion that “if you can’t beat ’em, join
’em.”

Eventually Liverpool developed a more sophisticated style, what later became known as ‘pass and move’ which is really just keeping the ball for longer periods and not looking to score every minute of the game. It certainly worked for him and, of course, by the mid-seventies
Liverpool
had a team ready to dominate
Europe
, but it took them a lot longer than it did us. At City we found out the hard way – having recovered from the
Fenerbahçe
debacle we
were
now ready for the continentals.

There can be little doubt that City’s finest hour was bringing home the European Cup Winners’ Cup. When we played in
Europe
, Joe and Malcolm wanted cover at left back so they signed a Scottish player called Arthur Mann, who was quick and very good at going forward with the ball. What Joe and Malcolm didn’t know when they bought him was that Arthur had a terrible fear of flying, which can be traced back to his honeymoon when there was a scare with the plane he was travelling on. It seems that Arthur and his new bride plunged 1,000 feet in the incident and it really shook him up.

Needless to say Malcolm, normally a stickler for knowing everything about his new signings, knew nothing of Arthur’s fear of flying, so now when he went abroad with us we had to dope him up with lots of whisky and literally carry him onto the plane like Mr T in the A-Team TV series. Often, he’d be in his hotel room before he’d fully realised what had happened! That was the only way of getting him on a plane! Maybe Arsenal should have tried the same trick with Dennis
Bergkamp
! I used to play golf with Arthur, he was a very nice lad and pretty handy with an iron in his hand. Tragically, he was killed in an accident at work five years ago.

Our first trip back in
Europe
was to Basque country, and a tie with Athletic Bilbao. After a hard-fought 3-3 draw we went back to the hotel for a few San
Miguels
. Spirits were high so we decided to have a game of three-card brag. There were six of us playing: Franny, George
Heslop
, Dave Connor,
Tommy
Booth… even Peter Gardner – and we were still playing at
1am
.

The last hand was absolute magic. There was just Franny and I left in, all the players were watching plus four Spanish waiters. There must have been about £50 in the kitty. I picked up my hand and I couldn’t believe it – I had a Jack, a ten and a two. Rubbish. So Franny went £1 blind; that meant I had to go to £2 in because I’d seen my hand. After about ten minutes Franny picked up his hand. A smirking, sly little grin went across his face and he upped the odds to £2. I thought I had no chance. About three times this happened, upping the stakes each time so I thought there’s no use toughing it out – I’ll lay my cards on the table and let him have it. Suddenly he put his cards on the table and said: “Well done you big bastard!” He had a Jack, a nine and a two. I’d managed to bluff him – not many people got the better of Franny at anything, let alone cards, but I’ll always remember that.

When we played
Bilbao
, City made a big mistake because we were staying in the same hotel as a number of our supporters. We were all having a drink in the lounge when in walked this little fellow, drunk as a skunk he was and he was laying into poor Joe Corrigan for letting in the goals during the game. Now, Joe was trying to relax just like everyone else and he simply didn’t need the abuse. This guy went on for about an hour, criticising him so eventually Joe decided to go up to bed. Unbelievably the drunk decided it would be great idea to get into the lift with Big Joe and follow him upstairs. Even when they were coming out of the lift the drunk still wouldn’t let it lie, so I suppose Joe’s patience finally ran out and he did what anyone else probably would have done, he stuck the nut on him as he made his way to his room.

The fan’s nose was broken and there was blood everywhere. He was taken to hospital and he was shouting his mouth off about how he was going to sue Joe. The club intervened and it was all sorted but from that night, no supporters were allowed to stay in the hotel with the players when we travelled abroad.

However, one of the best and most organised things I’ve seen done by the club was in the next round against SK
Lierse
of Belgium. Don’t forget the Belgians would have sent a scout over to watch us at

Our Portuguese opponents in the next round,
Academica
Coimbra
, were a dirty bunch – spitting, elbowing, kicking and diving. The full-back would get himself level with you and make no attempt to play the ball, just the man. It was a real test to keep your discipline.

Nevertheless they kept the ball well in horrendously muggy conditions. A 0-0 draw away from home proved a good
scoreline
. Malcolm’s plans to rest up overnight before the League Cup final backfired though because the flight home was delayed by a huge snowstorm and we had to be diverted to
London
.

Margaret was expecting our third child, Melissa, at the time of the
Coimbra
first leg and ultimately it meant I missed out on winning the League Cup with City in 1970. When we arrived back the birth was imminent and Joe asked me what I wanted to do. Well it was a really tough call but I definitely wanted to be present for the birth of my daughter. I was informed of the result in hospital about
5.30pm
that afternoon. What a pleasure for me – City win the Cup and the wife gives birth to a beautiful, healthy daughter
,.

I played again on the following Wednesday, still wishing just a little bit that I could have been at Wembley again the weekend before and I also played in the return against
Coimbra
which we scraped through 1-0 thanks to a Tony Towers goal.

For the
Schalke
away leg in the semis the Germans had huge support so we were relatively satisfied with a 1-0 defeat, we knew we could turn the game around at our place. One of our many great performances that season came in the return leg.

Schalke
were a good team with four or five German internationals in the side. But on the night we outfought, outthought, outplayed and outclassed them. Doyley scored our first then I weighed in with the next two, put on a plate for me by Alan Oakes. I remember Doyley with his arms raised – he must have raced the length of the pitch to get on the end of that cross and he must have been ecstatic because he didn’t score that often. Nobody could have lived with us that night. That’s exactly what the
Schalke
coach said as well.

We were simply flying as a team. Having got over our
Fenerbahçe
nightmare, we’d disposed of
  Athletic
Bilbao, SK
Lierse
,
Academica
Coimbra
and
Schalke
04 on a magical mystery European tour. The one obstacle in our way was the formidable Polish outfit,
Gornik
Zabrze
.

We arrived in the stately city of
Vienna
for the final. A beautiful city and we were all in fabulous spirits as we settled in there. We had opposition to beat but we had no doubts that we would win. We felt relaxed and we enjoyed the cultural tours we went on. My overriding memory is of a very clean place. There was no graffiti, no one misbehaving. I think standards over there, the way people dressed, the way people spoke, were better than at home.

To be honest, going into that game we did have one worry. That was a world-class player called
Lubanski
,
Gornik’s
star man. It’s been well documented over the years that the weather that night in the
Prater
stadium was horrendous. The stadium held 80,000 however a torrential downpour limited the attendance on the night to 12,100 with just 4,000 travelling fans from Manchester braving the elements. Nevertheless, although our loyal fans were drenched in the stands (there was absolutely no cover to be had anywhere) the Blue Army stood firm and cheered us on to victory.

The rain was unbelievable that night. It was a miracle the game even finished. I’ve never seen rain like it, before or since, and I’m a Mancunian. It was like playing at the bottom of the
Danube
. Sadly, Mike
Summerbee
missed out through injury but we still created some great chances and were well worth our victory.

I scored the first when Franny Lee worked the ball in from the left and had a shot at goal. The ‘keeper parried the shot and the ball was heading out towards me again. I had managed to find some space inside the box. I looked across and reacted instinctively when the ball looped towards me. I had beaten the offside trap and a ball-watching defence – bang!
1-0.

The second goal was similar but in reverse if that makes sense. This time I made the goal for Franny but I felt a little aggrieved because I would definitely have scored a second had I not been cynically body-checked by their goalkeeper.

Anyone who can recall Harold Schumacher’s challenge on Patrice
Battiston
in the 1982 World Cup semi-final will know exactly what I mean. The referee didn’t even book the
Gornik
‘keeper but at least
he
gave us a penalty. Franny was quite lucky with the
penalty,
it went in through the keeper’s legs but only just!

At 2-0 we had some breathing space and the City fans present certainly thought it was all over because they were going berserk.
Oslizlo
 scored late on for
Gornik
to give us a nervous last few minutes but even at 2-1 we felt comfortable and when that final whistle went it was absolute ecstasy. We were over the moon. Or should I say over the Blue Moon! We had done it.

First of all we were the last all-English team to win the championship. Then we won the FA Cup. Now we had taken it one step further and become major players on the European stage. We were the team to beat and we couldn’t wait to bring the trophy back to
Manchester
to show our fans.

That night we painted the town blue! The hotel was one big party that went on until the early hours – God knows how much champagne we put away but again it was flowing like water. A really proud night I remember fondly when I think about the old times.

The following season we could have, perhaps even should have, retained the European Cup Winners’ Cup. We were decimated by injuries by the time the semi-final against
Chelsea
came around. We put up a brave fight but we lost 1-0 home and away. We would have played Real Madrid in the final had we got through again.
Manchester
City
versus Real Madrid – what a mouth-watering prospect...