Shrimpsvoices

As we are coming up to the 10 year anniversary of the best day of Quinny's life and one that is up there for the rest of us, it would be great to share some memories of that day at Wembley.

What was it like for you? How did you get there? Who were you with? What are your strongest memories of the day? How did you celebrate?

Do yo have a picture you want to share?

Danny Carleton's brilliant left foot strike late on to win us the game s one of the best experiences I have ever had ,the sheer elation unbelievable

I won £20 with BetFred on the correct score, cheers Wayne for missing that penalty.

I remember stopping at Norton Canes services on the way down, it was a sea of red.

As the match went into injury time I remember thinking how my 84 year old dad was feeling at home watching on Sky, turns out I needn't have bothered, he couldn't stand the tension and had turned the TV off.

I was there in 1974 as well so at the rate of once every 33 years I'm looking forward to 2040 already

I've been to Wembley three times, twice with Morecambe, but it was to watch Burnley that I remember the most. That was the play off final v Sheffield United and my wife wanted to go. While I wanted Burnley to win for her, I wouldn't have been too upset if it had gone the other way. As a result, I could relax and enjoy the atmosphere. For our game, I think I was too excited to enjoy the atmosphere. When the second went in, we were all leaping around like lunatics, hugging anyone and everyone!

I remember watching the Exeter fans leaving after the full time whistle , they couldn't have got them out quicker even if there was a fire drill . Watching the celebrations on the big screen behind our fans , looked round and they had nearly all buggered off !!!!

The only time I've cried at a football game. Not at the end of the game, but before kick off, as we stood singing The National Anthem, holding my Scott up so he didn't fall of the chair. I also remember get hugs and back slaps of people I didn't know. Never seen so many grown men crying at the end.

Arriving at Wembley and having my rucksack checked. Being asked to remove all the bottle tops off my six bottles of water before entering the stadium, then trying to avoid spilling water all afternoon.
Holding my head in my hands when Lee Phillips headed Exeter ahead early on in the match, and we had a young inexperienced keeper called Scott Davies, and thinking it was not going to be our day.
I needn't have worried.
My daughter taking a photo of me when the second half was at about 89 minutes and we were 2-1 up and begging for the ref to blow the final whistle, and I had this expression on my face of excitement, anxiety and insanity all at once.
And after the final whistle getting a big hug off Andy Brown as we were leaving the stadium.
Wonderful wonderful day.
One of the best of my entire life.

I don't remember it all that well!

Main memories:

Taking pics outside the ground pre-match...
Feeling sick when they scored first...
Thinking that Danny's shot had somehow gone over and rippled the top of the net because of how narrowly under the crossbar it had travelled into the roof of the net, and then the relief that it had gone in...
Nailbiting and nerves throughout the game, being the overriding memory...
Sense of disbelief at the final result... 'we've done it'

Can remember it as if it was yesterday.

Drove down with 4 passengers...all getting on in their years but all excellent company even if a bit too much 'pop' both going down and coming back. Whisky at 8am is too much...

The sea of red at various motorway services both going down and on the return will long live in the old memory bank.

And as for the game itself....magic...

Wonderful memories but so sad that all those who went in support of our town team have long gone and it's the hard core of circa 1500 who are left standing..or sitting down in our case.

I remember the weekend vividly

We traveled down for the weekend in a rented Ford Transit Minibus. Think it was a 15 seater. There were only 8 of us though, so plenty of space for beer on the drive down.

We all went out around Covent Garden the night before the game. I had an alcohol-fulled argument with a girlfriend at the time on Tower Bridge

I remember being a hungover bag of nerves throughout the game. Whenever I remember the moment Danny scored, and the sheer elation afterwards, the hairs on my neck still stand up to this day.

What a beautiful moment.

went down with my wife my daughter and her boyfriend.

will never forget talking to Exeter supporters on the tube, they thought it was a formality for them, I just said you could be in for a shock.

that day was my daughters 26th birthday, she had been a regular supporter at C.P. since she was ten.

she cried her eyes out at the final whistle. I was so glad for her as I was at Wembley in 1974.

my daughter refused to leave until the place was empty, we finally left after the Stewards said we were the last and kicked us out !

I am very fortunate to have done the treble at Wembley. The 66 World Cup Final when I was a young thing at uni, the FA Trophy victory in 74 when life was informal and you could speak to players outside the ground at the players entrance and I was able to speak to one of the side in the same teacher union as myself-Malcolm Richmond- a goal scorer at Wembley, and then the play off final against Exeter. My recollection is that season Danny Carleton had tried lots of ambitious shots from outside the box and all of them had been wayward until that day when his shot nestled in the roof of the net. For a few seconds I couldn't take in that it was a goal , it had surely hit the side netting but no it was the stunning winning goal to take us into the Football League.

Being told I couldn't take my authentic 1930's rattle in as it was 'dangerous', after consulting a supervisor the chap said I could take it in 'as long as you don't hit anyone with it'.
Having a gurt big security chap running up to me in the stadium shouting 'no smoking, you can't smoke that pipe in here' after convincing him it was for comedy effect he let me off (the Eric coat, scarf, hat & glasses didn't influence him at all)
I also seem to remember going back to the bar to be told they had sold out of Bitter, can anyone else confirm that? or did I dream it?

Travelled down the day before with my two youngest sons from our home near Burnley and met up with the oldest son who was living in Cambridge. After spending the night in Cambridge got down to Wembley early and set up shop in a big pub at the side of Wembley, think it was The Torch. Waited for other Shrimps to arrive but after maybe 1,000 Devonians turned up and no Shrimps I began to think that we were maybe in the wrong pub! All very friendly though, got talking to a large group who were more Exeter Rugby fans and were just there for a day out. They wanted to know why my scarf was so grubby and I explained that it was a superstition and there was no way it was going in the wash till the seasons end. Loved the game, apart from them taking the lead early on and Dannys' winner was the goal of the century.Spent the night back in Cambridge at a Chinese celebrating. I consider myself very lucky having been there in 74 too and just hope that we can do it all again sometime!

We organised two minibi (plural of minibus) of professionals and their families to travel down on Saturday morning, a breaky stop at the Waggon Wheel, they have bags of sweets for the kids and trays of lager for us, for free, nice touch, we are staying at Premier Inn outside St Albrans. (Kept us regular)
Spent the afternoon watching a very poor FA Cup final drinking in a snot nosed wine bar with southern Chardonnay types, while the womenfolk shopped.
Then a leisurely evening around the town, some on beer and curry, some back at the hotel putting kids to bed and eating in the restaurant.
Around midnight, the menfolk all wandered into the hotel bar from town and the family men like me popped in and met up for a nightcap, all a wee bit excited.
Around a dozen of us sat discussing our thoughts on the game and we went round the table asking for a prediction from all.
To their eternal credit, most lads said we would win, and most of them agreed 2-1 to us??
Me? I said it would go to pens and I wasn't confident, as we had never beaten Exeter in the Conference in a game.
Watch out for Challinor getting forward from midfield and Lee Philips up top, he's a handful I said, and of course Lee Elam was a cheeky darting gnome!!
Little did we all know that within 8 minutes of the start, that would come true!!
But then so did the predictions!!

After a leisurely breaky where Downsy tested the Premier Inn, you can eat as much as you want it said on the menu, so he had a breaky then ordered two plates of sausages and we made butties for the game to take in, we boarded both minibi and set off just before 11am, after a kick about on the hotel grounds.
With a 1pm kick off on Sunday, we had 500 Corpus Christies to sell, special Wembley editions obvs, we approached Stanmore tube station, last turn on the left before the car park was MORECAMBE Gardens??An omen?
We boarded the tube at Stanmore and immediately sold a couple of issues of Corpus Christie to calm the nerves.
At Wembley, we stationed ourselves at the bottom of the split ramp, Downsy, Swidz, Curly, Andy, Matty, Posh and myself all vowed to sell out asap and get in the ground. But we all agreed we didn't go in until we'd sold out. GULP!

Downsy and my two little lads still appear on loads of peoples photos, sat on boxes at the bottom of the ramp selling fanzines.
It seemed at the time to be a sea of Devonians all wearing Paul Tisdale masks, I don't suppose it helped both sides played in red.
However both my lads had the blue away shirt on, as we all knew that's what we were playing in that day.
The Exeter fans, who were outnumbering us solidly, were all confident and happily purchased fanzines, the lesser spotted Shrimp glory hunters whose first game it was had no idea what Corpus Christie was and had to be convinced to part with cash for it!!!

As 12.30pm approached, we got rid of the last of our daft rag and dashed excitedly into the ground. Everyone on the minibi had tickets together (Uncle Peter Howard was not happy about that when I waltzed into the porta-cabin two weeks previously), so we were all together.

My memory is of being soooo impressed with Wembley. It was huge, with seemingly seats that went up to the heavens, massive screens either end, and a superb sweeping roof arch. Worth the wait I thought!

I have not seen the game for a good few years, but looking back now, the best thing that happened was Exeter scoring first and so early.
While obviously gutted, it seemed to galvanise both team and fans, almost as if we all thought, bollocks, we will have to go for it now??
And we did.
My memory of that whole season is one of us being obdurate and hard to beat from Xmas onwards, not really expansive but just getting the job done.
Kidderminster away, Thommo pen won us the game but we were not there to entertain, summed it up really.
Another memory is playing away at the Kassam Stadium and drawing 0-0 in the autumn, we at the time were 18 points behind them, ended up level on points but behind them on goal difference.
Anyway, my point is the gritty, hard working caterpillar that was the Shrimps turned into a delightful ball playing butterfly and our best performance of the season unfolded before our eyes on the biggest stage of all. What are the chances?

Thommo and Twissy were fed by Stanners and Sorvel, Yatesy and Danny Ads overlapped and we pummelled them. Foul?? PEN surely not? He's bloody given it!! YEEES!!
I remembered the pen Waynaldo took at Hereford in last years play-offs, smashed nonchalantly into the top bin, this lad will score!
But no, despair, the occasion must have got to him, its a pea roller and Jones falls on it with disbelief at the second attempt.
BUGGER!
Still we pile forward, woodwork is struck, Jones makes saves, corners are cleared, but we are irresistible. Garry Thompson cuts in from the right, in again past another flailing leg, weaker left foot, over the keeper, under the bar, GOOOOALLLL!!!!
Pandemonium.

Half time arrives quickly, its all square but its been all us. Squashed Sausage butty anyone??

Back out, Exeter more purposeful and measured this half, they keep the ball well but are not making in roads past the twin rocks of Jimbo and Jesus. Corners are repelled, Scotty D maybe twelve in our goal, but we are working so hard to make sure he has nothing to do apart from take goal kicks. Poor poor, Drenchy, did so much to get us where we were, never played again!

Exeter have replaced injured goalscorer Phillips with Adam Stansfield, another figure whom fate dealt a cruel hand to, but he makes no headway.
Time is ticking, it appears we are tiring in the sun, Twissy is off and Harry Gunter is on and we are sitting a little deeper. Another corner is half cleared, Thommo gratefully has a glance up and hits the sweetest 40 yard ball into the path of the effervescent Danny (offside) Carlton, its him against two but Danny is not holding the ball up, he's running at the full back, he cuts inside and again on his weaker foot unleashes a 23 yard exocet into the top left corner!!!
It almost didn't register?
GOOOOOOOAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLL!!!
MAYHEM, MAYHEM, MAYFUCKINHEM!!
Not least from Danny Adams who happily flattens Sammy!!

The next 8 minutes and added time lasted a lifetime, Ged Brannan parks his Transit in midfield on for Thommo, David Mc replaces eternal hero Danny, Stanners has his ears assaulted and in the finest dive Wembley has seen since Keith Houchen in 87, he hits the deck like Klinsmann, Matt Gill is sent for first use of the Palmolive and its OVER!
We have DONE IT.
Posh feints, I cry, floods of pure unadulterated joy, My brother cries, my cousin cries, everyone is hugging everyone else.
The years of away defeats at Scouseport, home drubbings by Mossley, disallowed goals v Hull, all washed away in tidal wave of unbridled pride and love.
The dream has become reality.
Jimbo climbs the steps, weeping families in red and blue singing themselves hoarse as the other end empties as if they were never ever there.
Jimbo wipes his hands, the trophy is held high, more tears, more hugs. Photos, dancing, what do we do now?

Eventually we are turfed out, Bobby Moore Statue is covered in MFC scarves, more photos, more back slapping.
Tube back to Stanmore, in a daze, rose tinted hue over north London.
Back to minibi, a Tesco express was found, as one of the drivers I was after food and drink for the kids, but round every corner were grinning people in football shirts with trays of beer, and they were all on our minibi!!
We pass and wave at fans, horns wildly honking all on the M1 and M6, some were rugby fans having been to Twickers, but most were happy, pissed, wide grinning Shrimps.

The rumours abounded, the team are back at the Carleton with the cup, drive drive drive.
Families decanted, buses cleaned and dumped, 11pm we get to the Carleton. 1000 people have got the same message, Swidz and Midds conduct sing-alongs, dancing, drinking and the team arrive with the trophy, the place goes into meltdown, speeches, singing, more tears, more hugs, more beer.

I have work at 8am that morning, so reluctantly I head home at 2am.

I'm asleep, dreaming of Wembley winners when I become aware of an irritating beeping. It doesn't stop. I look at the clock, it's 4.30am, whose alarm is going off? I share a house with Matt, whom I left at the Carleton slightly worse than standing.
Eventually I get up, in the buff, open my bedroom door to smoke all over the landing!!!??? AND beeping, that bloody BEEPING!!!
I dash down stairs, its half light, the smoke alarm is having heart failure, Matt is sat in the armchair, asleep, obviously rinsed, about six inches above his head all the way to the ceiling is a cloud of thick grey smoke filling the lounge, dining room and kitchen. He's out of it with a contented smile on his face, both arms calmly on the side of the armchair.
I try and wake him, I'm shaking him furiously, he doesn't wake up. He's dead, fuck him, save yourself I think.
I dash in the kitchen, the grill is well ablaze, I open the kitchen window, get a teatowel under the tap and throw the inferno out the window, just as Matty jumps up, hasn't a clue what's going on, pissed as a fart, runs in the kitchen shouting "I'll sort it, its fine"!!!
Patio doors are open, smog dissipates, anger turns to laughter.
"Why are you in the buff?" he asks.
"What the hell were you doing?" I reply.
" I was hungry, I fancied cheese on toast, must have fallen asleep, then I had a vision of someone shaking me while waggling his cock in front of me and I woke up"!!
" Go to bed you tit, we are in the Football League???!!"

We repainted the kitchen. Matty moved out a year later. He has never made cheese on toast since.

And that is the story of the best weekend of my life watching the Mighty Shrimps

Freez

Good account, had tears in my eyes again reading that, David...bet you can't remember as much about '74.
Although knowing you....

Please use both sides of the paper.

74' account,
I had a brand new silk scarf and rosette.
Second train from Prom. People drinking beer in tins, train spotting through Birmingham, Tube was fun through London.
Battered Dartford, Webber sets both up, hits bar, it was a cross, second half they pull one back, lots of people on floor when they score. Galley comes on and runs down wing.
We hold on.
Bob Baldwin holds aloft excalibur from the bosom of the wa....erm hang on I'm confused.

Loads of lads come in our end looking for bother, they get it, and run off!!

Back on tube, Dartford fans cowering in one end carriage.
back on 2nd train, more tins of dirty pop.
Good day out!

74 was a crazy, crazy day. I remember leaving at midnight in a Morecambe High School mini bus, full of teenage males and driven by best teacher ever Mr Gibbison? or something very similar. (All above board, no need for any historical enquiries!) Arrived in London about 6am and a 3 hour driving tour of the sights courtesy of Gibby and then off to Wembley for the game. Despite being massive under dogs before hand we bossed it really and won in a canter.Only complaint was being in one end of Wembley, back then you were miles from the other end (with a dog track around the pitch). The view of the action wasn't the best,(Lot better now).It was also back in the days of rampant hooliganism and 10 minutes from the end the other end of Wembley seemed to empty and not long after they appeared behind us in our end, cue pitched battle with our hooligans. I think we won that one too and I remember Police Horses charging through the concourse under the terracing skittling those fighting as they went. Mad days but some very happy memories probably only surpassed by our second visit.

Freez, you must stop posting such tear jerking facts.....my bloody old ticker can't cope with it....and as for drowning in a sea of tears remembering the day.....call out the lifeguards I can't swim

Kipax shaking my hand at the final whistle saying welcome to the football league.

Freez wrote:MAYFUCKINHEM!!

This just sums it all up for me