The Fanzine Files #7 England v Republic of Ireland 1976

Ray Clemence, Colin Todd, Paul Madeley, Trevor Cherry, Roy McFarland, Brian Greenhoff, Kevin Keegan (C), Ray Wilkins, Stuart Pearson, Trevor Brooking, Charlie George (Gordon Hill 65)

Mick Kearns, Paddy Mulligan, Jimmy Holmes, Mick Martin, David O'Leary, Liam Brady, Gerry Daly, Terry Conroy, Steve Heighway, Johnny Giles (C), Don Givens

In my thoroughly selfish and completely biased opinion, in his prime, it had been a massive shame that Johnny Giles hadn't been born an Englishman. Because he would've been the exactly the right sort of player to build the England midfield around, alongside the tenacious Alan Ball, to check the national team's decline, as the former world champions slipped down the international rankings. 

But Giles, the player manager for the Eire side (duties he also combined at West Bromwich Albion) was getting on a bit now... still capable of adding a touch of class to proceedings while mentoring some of the young and relatively inexperienced at international level talent in the visitors ranks (though it is worth noting that Liam Brady actually made his full-international debut in 1974), he was considered to probably be less of a threat than he might've been in the past, when he played a starring role at both Manchester United and Leeds United.

The visitors also had Walsall's Mick Kearns in goal. With all due respect to all concerned, a third division keeper playing international football ought to have been a big plus for the hosts, along with the inclusion of some steady but unspectacular old 'plodders' from among the ranks of the Football League like: Jimmy Holmes, Mick Martin and Terry Conroy turning out for Ireland. 

Was I complacent, supremely confident and possibly even a touch arrogant in my assumption that this game would be an easy win for England? Damn right I was.

In actual fact I'd go so far as to say that given the limitations of my paper-round and pocket-money funds, I'd deliberately chosen a game that I was dead certain would maintain my record of seeing England win every game that I'd been to watch them play, in person. Whoops!

Maybe I should have done my research a bit better. People talk of Ferenc Puskás and the Hungarians being the first non-British team to beat our national team on English soil, but four years prior to that, the Republic of Ireland had beaten England 2-0 at Goodison Park. So now you (and I) know!

But, who was I kidding? (Only myself) Giles proved to be pivotal to almost everything that was good about his side's performance out on the Wembley turf, while it would be remiss of me not to mention that Liverpool's Steve Heighway played an absolute blinder too.

Of course, tonight was significant for the fact that amongst all of Revie's chopping and changing of personnel, the twenty-five year old Charlie George was finally called up for his first (and last) ever appearance in an England shirt, besides the five appearances he'd already made for the Under-23 side. The England manager, who, believe it or not, was actually been born in Edinburgh, has never really been given the credit he deserves for his club achievements at Leeds United, outside of his former club and it's supporters, but in his role in the national side's hot-seat, his tenure never amounted to very much and will probably be best remembered as being a transitional and experimental phase, by those who are willing to give him the benefit of the many doubts people had during his reign in charge.

But even at such a tender and innocent age, I thought he was a dismal failure in the post, even though I'd been treated to ten goals against one, the first twice that I saw his side in action. He obviously knew the game of football inside out and upside down, but sadly that is a very apt way to describe how his teams played too.

To all intents and purposes, this was only a friendly match, book-ended by two World Cup qualifiers against Finland, but I was witnessing a crowd dynamic of the kind I'd never experienced before. To my way of thinking, by it's very definition, the word 'supporters' indicates that one should get behind a team and raise it's spirits when they're flagging, by encouraging the side and geeing them up, while displaying the time honoured traits of partisan loyalty. 

Booing your own side was an alien concept to me (and it always will be too) and I was genuinely shocked and even a little upset, by the confusing shouts along the lines of: "I hope we f*cking lose to this lot so they get rid of this c*nt!", and "F*cking 'ell Revie, we're worse than the Jocks! You're clueless!" and numerous other taunts that demonstrated that a large proportion of those who'd turned out to watch the game in a half-full (half-empty?) stadium had a genuine loathing and hatred for their own national side.

Heighway went close early on, while George unselfishly teed up a chance for Trevor Cherry who tested Kearns. Towards the end of a fairly lacklustre first half, Colin Todd pushed forward on the right and crossed for Ray Wilkins who narrowly headed over. Right on the stroke of half-time, George combined well, will both Trevor Cherry and Kevin Keegan, freeing the latter through the right channel, from where his delivery to Stuart Pearson was turned in just inside the near post.

Ireland came out all guns blazing at the start of the second half and Conroy went close when he headed over from a dipping free-kick by Giles and in the fifty-second minute the visitors were deservedly on level terms, when the live-wire Heighway left Brian Greenhoff in his wake before Wilkins toppled him over with a last-ditch sliding tackle/lunge. Keegan stepped forward advising Ray Clemence which way Gerry Daly would be putting the resulting penalty-kick. Inevitably, the England keeper went the wrong way as the jubilant visiting players mobbed Daly who levelled the scores up.

In the sixty-fifth minute, despite having been involved in the build up for England's goal, George was substituted. 

Gordon Hill, 'King of all cockneys' according to his adoring Manchester United fans was sent on in his place, while the Derby County (and former Arsenal) player, made his feelings known towards Revie as he left the field, thus cementing his (lack of an) international future.

Giles' side were by far the better of the two teams in the second-half, but England could have snatched the win when Hill planted the ball through the left channel for Keegan to run on to, but he slashed his shot high and wide. Perhaps if the second-half substitute hadn't slightly over-hit his intended pass, or the player he'd replaced had still been on hand to do the job properly, then this woeful tale might've had a different ending. But, regardless of the ifs, buts and maybes, the Republic of Ireland didn't deserve to lose this game... and England certainly didn't deserve to win it.

Charlie George, even with his cringe-worthy perm, was one of my first ever football heroes and though it perhaps fitted the narrative of his maverick bad boy persona, that he never saw eye to eye with the national team manager, I never really forgave Don Revie for effectively cutting short his chance to shine for his country. Injury and disciplinary problems contributed to George never really fulfilling the potential he'd shown at both Highbury and the Baseball Ground, though a winning goal at the former and a hat-trick against Real Madrid at the latter, gave a teasing glimpse of what might have been. And though we never consummated our romance (he married his childhood sweetheart at an early age), my unrequited love for Charlie has never diminished, wherever his chequered career has taken him. 

The scores in friendly matches don't count for very much, if anything at all... and besides, my unbeaten run was still intact, just. 

But you try telling the London Irish population who celebrated this result as if if it was a majorly significant moral victory, that it wasn't important.

Three months prior to this game, England had beaten Finland 1-4 away from home in a World Cup 1978 qualifying game, my next visit to Wembley would be the home group game against the Finns.

TO BE CONTINUED...

It was 1996 and we were in London during the 'Euro 96' competition, when I spotted a familiar looking figure walking past the Herbert Chapman public house on the Holloway Road. I pointed him out to my wife and said: "Wow! Look, that's Charlie George out there, he was one of my boyhood heroes". 

Her reply cut me to the bone: "Oh, is that what he looks like now? Back in those days, I used to like Gordon Hill of Manchester United". FFS! I nearly choked on my dinner... I probably wouldn't have married her if I'd have known that.