Goodison Memories: Light the corners of my mind...

October 1959. Finally, after months of begging, my dad agreed to take me to watch Everton for the first time. I was 12. We stood on the Park End terraces, immediately behind the goal as Everon beat Arsenal 3-1. I think Bobby Collins scored. I was hooked, never again to return to sanity.It was also my first glimpse of a man who would embody everything Everton; Brian Labone. Dad and his brothers raved about him, so naturally so did I.

The next few years flew by with ever-increasing excitement, starting with the League Championship win in the 1962-63 season. In that period, I was introduced to a proper hero in the shape of the Golden Vision, Alex Young. I know others have said this before, but it really looked like he was skating when he ran, in that his feet never actually touched the floor. He scored the winner in that first Title win, and I was overwhelmed with him. My first idol.

We were still in the Park End, behind the goal, but didn’t have season tickets. We took our chance on the day, or if it was likely to sell out, Dad would queue at the ticket office.

We then had our fabulous FA Cup run in 1966, defeating Manchester City and Manchester United en route, culminating in the magic of the final with Everton claiming the trophy. Alex was still playing, but didn’t have much luck at Wembley, the honours falling to Mike Trebilcock and Derek Temple as every Evertonian knows.

The World Cup came upon us in 1966 and Goodison Park had two semi-circles carved out behind the goals, which meant we were a little further back for the games before and after. We filled in our application forms and tried for tickets. I was very lucky to get tickets for the Brazil v Bulgaria match and North Korea v Portugal. The tickets were in the Main Stand and cost Dad a fortune. It was so, so exciting and we all looked forward to seeing Pele and the likes of Eusebio.

Poor old Pele was kicked off the pitch (to my young eyes) and Brazil went out. The North Korea game was one of the most exciting games I’d ever seen, and they went into a three-goal lead. The whole of Goodison was screaming at them to defend, defend, but they didn’t know how to, and Eusebio scored four goals to defeat them 5-3.

As everyone knows, England won the World Cup that year and we had two memorable events that came out of it. One was the spectacle of the two World Cup stars, Roger Hunt and Ray Wilson, holding the actual World Cup aloft at the start of the Charity Shield match at Goodison. and there was the signing of a certain Alan Ball (for £110,000) who went on to write himself into Everton folklore.

Alex Young was still playing then, of course, and playing out of his skin, but his appearances were limited, apparently because of very sore feet. We didn’t know this at the time. I watched him, again from the Park End terraces in 1967 as Everton beat Burnley in an FA Cup replay, scoring two of his finest goals. A header, in which he rose above everyone at the near post, and a shot from the tightest of angles. I’ve still got the Echo report.

We stayed at the Park End for a few more years and watched the unedifying sight of Jimmy Husband being thrown into the air by a Dave Mackay tackle and being out for a month. He always said that it didn’t have any long-term effect on him, and he was part of the squad that went on to win the First Division title in 1969-70.

We watched, again from the Park End, as the team, now boasting the Holy Trinity of Kendall, Ball and Harvey, swept to the title with a relative newcomer Alan Whittle scoring in almost every game in the run-in. The title was sewn up when we beat West Brom 2-0 with fittingly Colin Harvey scoring the final goal, following Whittle’s customary effort.

We didn’t know it at the time, but that title would be the last major honour for a decade or more. We had moved to a permanent position as Main Stand season ticket holders and Mum, fed up with being left at home, decided to join us every week. Oh, those cheese sandwiches and flask of Oxo (never Bovril).

The rest of the seventies was a miserable affair, with only a few highlights to remember. It was during this period that Everton acquired the services of Duncan McKenzie and my adulation – which had started with Alex Young, and then to Alan Ball – was now firmly encamped with the former Leeds and Anderlecht man. Watching him run with the ball brought back all the Alex Young memories and he was an absolute delight to watch. One of the very rare players who made the crowd physically gasp.

It was also in the late seventies that Bob Latchford was at his peak, and we all watched, hearts in mouths, as Bobby scored his 30th goal, winning £10,000 from the Daily Express. No-one had the nerve to point out the blatant dive that Mick Lyons performed to secure the winning penalty. Thank God for no VAR in those days.

Nothing much happened to the Blues for a few more years until the Howard Kendall era and so much has already been written about the amazing successes we achieved, that nothing would be gained by adding to it. I will say, however, that there is no doubt the Bayern Munich match was the loudest I’ve ever heard Goodison roar.

As the eighties turned into the nineties, we were able to call on some fabulous players, the likes of Pat Nevin, Andrei Kanchelskis, Tony Cottee, Neville Southall, Kevin Ratcliffe, Graeme Sharp, and an enigmatic player called Peter Beagrie. He was a strange watch, because it appeared to my eyes that he wasn’t content in beating his man once: he had to go back and beat him again. The customers around me in the Main Stand would take bets on how often he would turn the same man before falling over on his arse.

Although we won the cup in 1995, the nineties showcased our flirting with relegation as the 1993-94 Wimbledon match is remembered — and later on, in 1997-98, as we avoided the drop on goal difference. Looking back now, it is hard to believe that the 1995 FA Cup is our last trophy and is, of course, a constant reminder of our flakiness.

In the early 2000s, my wife found some money down the back of our sofa, and as a special treat, she bought me a few seasons in the lounges. First, the Alex Young Lounge, and then the Joe Mercer Lounge. It was a revelation.

If you’ve never been to the lounges before, let me tell you that it’s a very special experience. For a start, old Everton legends would stroll around the room and stop and have a chat with you. Dave Hickson (one of my dad’s favourite players and a true gentleman) would come and sit with us before every match.

He was an amazing man and had lots of tales to tell. In truth, all he wanted to talk about was horses. He was an avid betting man. You’d ask him “What do you think today then, Dave?” and he would ignore the match and point you to the 3 o’clock at Sandown. A lovely man.

Duncan McKenzie, hair now Dulux brilliant white, would read the team sheet out and make predictions as to the result. (He was rubbish.) Martin Dobson, David Weir, Tony Cottee all made appearances, together with many more players. Tony Cottee would make an appearance when we played West Ham and always started his little chat by saying “As everyone knows, I’m a West Ham fan”. The rest of it would be drowned out by good-natured booing.

I was really surprised when the great Bobby Latchford was called up to the mic. As the applause died down and he began to speak, the crowd fell silent. He had a really thick German accent, and it was almost like watching Allo, Allo. He was still given a standing ovation, but I for one, had no idea what he had said.

The referees were housed in the lounges pre-match, and they were given tea and sandwiches. They always sat in the corner away from us patrons. I found myself standing next to Paul Durkin in the toilets and, as it was a derby match, I suggested that he shouldn’t be seen taking any tenners from the Red Shite. He winked and said, “Take a lot more than a tenner, son”. We lost.

One of our group, Dave was quite vociferous and, noticing Michael Thomas, his wife, and Franny Jeffers standing at the end of the lounge, he approached them and said, ”I’d like to shake your hand!” Franny Jeffers held his hand out and Dave said “Not you, you fucking traitor!” He then shook Michael Thomas’s hand and told him that he’d given him one of the happiest nights of his life. The Thomases were still laughing an hour later.

As money ran out and pension realities bit, I had to give up the lounge and now sit back in the Main Stand. In truth, in the last few years, the only real excitement has been our various escapes from the drop zone and the revolving door that is the managerial hot seat at Goodison Park.

After 66 years at Goodison, what will I miss? Well, people of course. The family I sit next to and others behind and in front of me are all moving to different areas of the new HD Stadium. I’ll miss the pre-match drinks in The Brick because it’s too difficult to devise a way to continue going to The Brick and parking near Bramley-Moore Dock.

I’m sure our little group (six of us) will find a suitable watering hole closer to the new place. I am hoping that the move is not just a geographical one, but a sea change in our fortunes. I am very lucky, because of my age, that I have been able to witness with my own eyes 4 League titles, 3 FA Cup wins, and European success, to say nothing of numerous Charity Shields. I hope to see more, but of course I’ve got my memories.

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