wembley wrong end

by noel brownlow
(halsall lancashire)

I was 15 and attending the Isis School in Bolton. I was the only PNE fan at the place and used to get loads of abuse from the Burnden Park kids.

I managed to get a couple of tickets from a Susan Parker whose dad ran a haulage firm in Bolton.

So my dad, born and bred in Preston booked the coach seats and we were duly picked up at the 'Elephant' in Adlington.

The weather was fine and I remember it seemed to get warmer the further south we went. It took an age and I remember commenting to my dad how much more blossom was on the trees and how the cars were much posher than our native Blackrod.

We arrived at the ground after the singing and squeezed into the very back... at the Hammers End!
I had never seen anything as massive as Wembley. It was just like a huge bowl to me and we were standing up at the 'wrong end'. I had a blue and white knitted scarf with all the PNE players' names on (ta mum!). But, most importantly I had my three level rattle again in customary livery. Well, did I know how to use that rattle much to the annoyance of the thousands of Hammers fans. They did'nt seem to bother too much until 'young' Dougie Holden silpped one in near the post. Nowadays there would be mayhem but my dad just got a quiet word in his ear and I got the nod. The rest of the half seem to pass in seconds until my hero Alex Dawson headed us ahead just before half time. 'The Black Prince' used to head a ball even if it was level with his boots. The second half was a 'mist' with the offside goal from Boyce sending the Hammers fans wild and home in happy voice. We left for the coach before the lifting of the cup. I must have got some dust in my eye and funnily enough so did my dad. Well he was a plasterer! We sat on the coach for what seemed like a week. The great Sir Matt Busby walked past and we cheered and thanked him for Dawson. He smiled and waved. People were much more tolerant and respectful four and a bit decades ago. A West Ham fan at the end gave me a smile and said " Don't worry son you'll be back again soon". Next time I went we lost a play off to Martin O'Neill's Wycombe. No dad then I'm sorry to say. He died of cancer in England's World Cup winning year. But I've brilliant memories of a great day out at the 'wrong end' and a flip through the final programme along with the ones against Bolton and Swansea always brings a big smile to my face. Wish I'd kept the rattle !!!