Everton Season Review Champions 1984

Someone has matched Clive Tyldesley's commentary to the pictures. Part 2 never arrived... 😢

The best cricketing commentary was Brian Johnson - The bowler's Holding the batsman's Willey. Sheer class.

Pat is one of my favourites and he showed us his lovely Blue soul on Howard’s Way.

One of my favourite memories was going down to Norwich in 1987 when he scored the only goal of the game to clinch the league title. Fantastic memories, especially in these dark days.

The batsman's Holding the bowler's Willey

There's a wonderful sight. The Queen Mother kissing the cox of the winning crew (on the radio, after the Boat Race).

You mention memories and how they can become somewhat distorted. I was at Norwich when Pat got the winner to clinch the title, I had gone up there from London on the train. Whilst most Blues were on that dreaded cross-country marathon, many London based Blues were heading to Liverpool Street.

I hardly recall anything of the game itself, only that it was sunny, I had a pint in a local pub to find other Evertonians ensconsed. I remember the delirium of the goal but, like most around me, it took a minute or two before we knew Pat had scored it, such was the confusion.

I was in the away end when Nev made those saves at The Lane. He was at the other end when he made That save from Falcao.

I was also at the Cricket at the oval when Botham stepped on his wicket. I had my Walkman with me but to this day I can't remember if I heard the laughter at the time, or later on when I got home.

In Rotterdam, my memories of the game are a mingled mash-up of real alcohol-fuelled events and TV footage. As soon as we got home from there, we all sat down and watched the recording.

As for the radio commentaries, the old Radio 2 had some great old-fashioned stalwarts and I miss the likes of Jimmy Armfield giving measured insights and analysis. The current crop of vacuous dimwits is a sad reflection of our dumbed-down media.

I was living in digs in Nottingham, and all the lads were round the radio laughing because Everton were losing, and I knew they couldn't wait for the final whistle so they could all destroy me, because I never shut up about the Blues.

I went up to my room at the top of the house, “Bastards," I thought, "at least I can kick them down the stairs when they all run up to destroy me” then Steven scored, and I was able to run round the house and absolutely wreck every bedroom in the house, before I made it downstairs, and everyone of them was sitting around the pool table, waiting for me.

Fuckin-gerrin – you horrible bastards- yers nearly had me, I was screaming, and you would have thought everyone in the house was a Boro fan, they were all that gutted.

I danced round the room screaming, before running out shouting “Yers better go and check yer bedrooms, we've had burglars," and ran upstairs to lock my bedroom!

Funny memories, Pete, I think I will wind Pat up the next time I'm in his company, because I never knew he took the free-kick!

“You know what I mean, Harry” was on TV, Harry Carpenter and Frank Bruno it became a favourite with boxing fans.

David Coleman, I met him at Manchester just before the Everton - Liverpool semi-final in 1971, he was getting ready to go into a Portacabin:

“Go in there and spout your usual rubbish” I said to him with a smile on my face.

“Thank you, Scouse,” he replied, “Very generous of you.” Ruffling my hair with a bigger smile on his face.

My own gaffe on radio was when Howard Kendall was announced as Everton's manager for the third time. Andy Gray had messed Everton around about the job, angling for a better contract on TV.

I had got on the phone to give my verdict starting with “Before I begin, here's a large strawberry (meaning raspberry) for Andy Gray," blowing one down the phone. The announcer was too surprised to point out my mistake.

Pete, your final paragraph on Pat, you've got him spot on.

I was still at school in Wigan and could only get to Goodison when my dad would take us. We'd go maybe 6 times per season but always Saturday 3 pm games. I can remember listening to that cup tie in our front room and dad walked out in disappointment. I remember going crazy too when we scored.

I also remember listening to Radio City during a mighty topsy-turvy cup-tie with Sheffield Wednesday when there would be multiple replays. Everton went to their place and thumped them 5-0 (I think) in the second replay.

I remember listening the Lineker hat-trick game against Southampton. My recollection of that game was that rumour circulated that Liverpool were losing and Goodison started cheering. It was a false rumour. I can still get the sick feeling seeing Dalglish hit that goal at Stamford Bridge.

There were disappointments – I'll never forget taking my football to the local field in tears straight after the '85 and '86 finals but they were great days.

I always preferred Kev Keetings as a commentator. I hear him the odd time on Sky – I think he used to do some La Liga games. I think he was a good commentator.

Mossop lived in a beachside suburb that was popular with nude sunbathers and one day he made a citizens arrest of a man coming off the beach in his altogether.

Mossop was interviewed by TV and it was aired on most stations for several hours before anyone realized what he was saying which was; "I'm sick and tired of having male and female genitals shoved down my throat!"

Reading your article got me thinking about Everton games on the radio and, although there are a few I remember, the first one I thought of was that 2-2 with Boro. They were a good team and a bit of a fairytale so it seemed that the neutral was very much rooting for them, especially having held us to a draw at Goodison in the first match.

Memorable for the tension, the noise and the expectation, but also for my own circumstances. I had recently had a bedroom to myself, with my brother moving across the hall and this new-found freedom and space allowed me to turn it into an imaginary stadium. With a small potato sized "ball" made of sellotape and a big squashy bed to land on, I would listen to the game while bouncing the ball off the wall and performing diving headers into the "net" of the radiator.

I was a fair dreamer and would often allow the opposition a goal or two before retrieving the situation for an Everton win.

This is what I was doing when Trev scored on the radio and with no pictures or replays, it was easy to recreate the goal in 20 different ways, which I set about doing.

Eventually it wasn't the bed that broke from cushioning the landings but the radiator fixing in the top left did give way and it fell down the wall on that side. A very unhappy Dad not only had to re-attach it somehow but had to listen to the post-game ramblings as well. We still talk about it now.

As I say, Thanks!

It was a memorable moment to savour as the media were loving the fact that Everton might lose to an underdog.

Boro v Everton

That cricket one wasn't a gaffe – he'd been waiting years to say it!

How we could do with Pyscho Pat character in the current team.

I used to always pick up the latest Private Eye edition of Colemanballs when they came out. They ran well into double figures. Always good value for money.

Haven't Private Eye expanded the term to 'Mediaballs' these days to encompass all manner of gaffes?

John [grey] Major came out with some beauts, like this:

"When your back's against the wall it's time to turn round and fight"

"He was decapitated? Is that what killed him?"

By the way, that save from Southall, tipping it onto the bar – what a goalie and what a man. Pickford – eat your heart out!

I have very fond memories of that particular Boro game from a particularly unique perspective. I was there but I wasn't.

A student at Teesside Poly in Middlesbrough, I had a ticket to go in the Boro end with two other students - a Boro fan and a Newcastle fan. Whatever the outcome, me and the geordie were sworn to non-reactionary silence throughout as certain Holgate End members would have considered all their Christmases had come at once - discovering amongst them a scouser and a geordie - and both students to boot (literally).

However, a couple of days earlier I had a freak accident with a combination of stairs, a pint glass and gravity doing their worst. Off to Middlesbrough General Hospital I went, via a 500 meter long ambulance journey no less. Surgeons patched me up (for which I am eternally grateful) and I was admitted to post surgery recovery on the second floor. No game for me. To make things worse, Ayresome Park was a mere 300 metres away. Amongst my visitors was the Boro fan and his very confused brother who, for the promise of a future pint with a 'fuckin' stooodent', gratefully relieved me of my part-bloodsoaked ticket.

Armed with fresh stitches, a sling and some heavy duty tubigrip, I wandered the wards looking for a radio. No bedside entertainment in those days. With barely half an hour to go a cleaner, a porter and a fellow patient had helped sort out the night's entertainment under a similar promise to keep the noise down for the sake of other patients.

For the first half I had the pleasure of listening at low volume to an incredibly one sided local radio commentary. At 1-0 up I was quietly delighted with progress (even hearing the away end celebration) when things got a whole lot better. Another porter joined us, chatted throughout half time, then announced from nowhere, 'of course, you can watch the game from the fourth floor'.

Clutching my saline drip, pain killer drip on wheels?? and with cold arse hanging out of a surgical gown, I made my way to the fourth floor and to my utter joy the bright lights and about half of one goal end of the pitch was indeed just within view. From the fourth floor height I still had two staff and a floodlight in the way but hey ho, better than some StubHub Goodison views I've had of late.

Of course, Boro equalise at the death and then take the lead in extra time - all at the end I could see. Arm throbbing now - FFS what the hell am I doing? Cheery porters returning to work, I was stood alone at the end of a dark corridor straining for a last minute view of the match I was previously so desperate to attend.

With no concept of time, no radio, no watch I was resigned to no more FA cup too. But Tricky Trev had other ideas. Saw a player leap, saw the ball heading to the left but I couldn't see the goalie's right hand post. The noise was so loud I first thought it was the locals - shit has it gone wide and the ref blown for the final whistle? One long nanosecond later and the goal was confirmed not by the celebrating Everton players out of sight but by the frozen, forlorn stance of 3 or 4 Boro defenders. A similar cheer seconds later confirmed full time and a return leg.

I stayed for 5 minutes to telepathically celebrate with my fellow blues - I smiled, and as promised, kept my counsel, respected my fellow patients and wheeled my way to the lift. Got in and pressed 2 and the doors closed. Only then did my celebrations begin - shouting, banging, good-arm fist pumping away for 2 floors until the lift stopped and the doors slid open. I quietly wheeled myself back to my bed and to my recovery. So I missed Clive's commentary, missed the local commentary and watched that finish alone, tied to a drip, half-naked and in almost complete silence - match that!

In March that year, I believe I was the only outbound passenger flying from Manchester to ski in Bulgaria with one arm in a sling - tough week but I'd paid the deposit.

The hospital, and indeed Ayresome Park, are no longer - flattened for new housing with relevant street names the only legacy. That Boro team are still idolised by locals of a certain age. How we could both do with a Bernie Slaven today!

Some of my own on-air gaffes resulted from overenthusiasm at exciting moments, but far more were caused by my ill-advised attempts at humor or cleverness.

As were most of my dumbest lines to women. I cringe more at the memory of those than anything I ever said on-air.

1. The FA Cup Semi-final vs Aston Villa in the late '70s I think. They were agony but extremely memorable.

2. A World Cup round-robin game of no consequence when Gerald Sinstadt was obviously sitting in a big commentary box close to other commentators. I can't even remember the teams but let's say Chile scored. The guy next to him, obviously Chilean went berserk with the usual South American "Gooooooooaaaaaal" etc. Old Sinstadt simply said, in a surprised tone, "Two, One!"

For those of younger vintage, standing in a wall for one of Peter Lorimer's free-kicks brought genuine fear of life thereafter as a eunuch.

Howard Kendall said, apart from Big Nev, Pat was his best signing. Colin Harvey offered him an improved contract and would have played him alongside Dave Watson. The two of them would have formed a good partnership together.

I think Pat regretted leaving even though he won the FA Cup with Spurs. I was a big fan of his and loved his mentality and he could play football along with his natural aggression.

Well worth a read.

"I walked through the warm-up room on the way to the commentary box and Ludmilla Pushtitova?? was doing a few lifts. I must say, her snatch was very impressive."

Brilliant and well said by Pat regarding Arteta.

The answers ranged from; "I don't know" - "Nobody, they called it off." - "I know Everton won it last year."

They seek them here, they seek them there, they seek those Evertonians...

A true Everton great and how we could do with him now both for his ability and his fighting spirit.

Ahh, cool piece of play by Moore. Oh too cool. 1-0.

For all of extra time, Stokoe was going on about how poor Everton were, how they'd created nothing, how much the Boro underdogs deserved their victory etc etc.

When Steven equalised, there wasn't a peep out of him. I was shouting at the radio telling the biased bastard that I couldn't hear him any more.

Happy days.

I remember the Sunderland game, Andy Gray probably scored two of the best headers I can remember but when I watched it on Match of the Day that night, I heard what I still think is the best bit of commentary I've ever heard:

"REID... CROSS... GRAY!!!"

However, as you say, the experience was enhanced fantastically by our wonderful local radio coverage of the away games. Like you say, Clive T on Radio City was fantastic but Graham B on Merseyside was a great close second.

Great memories, thank you!

Like Pete said, my recollection, after Sunderland scored, was that it was totally one-way traffic. Funny how your mind plays tricks when you are used to winning every week!