Our trip to France '98 - The Final vs France
The French looked good, really good. I had scouted them and the strengths far outweighed the weaknesses. Only a fool could study a team graced with footballing gods like Zidane, Desailly, Ginola and Cantona, then come away with anything but shivers.
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The French Lineup.
We had a few players struggling for fitness so I hoped to keep it tight and make changes at half time. France had other ideas and were 1-0 up through Dugarry on 14mins. Sucker punch. I exhaled a breath and focused on the following match updates like a hawk. I needed a clue, are we in this? Should I make a change now? GOAL! It was Desailly. 2-0 with only 22mins gone. I felt something leave my side, my belief had started walking towards the tunnel.
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We saw it through to half time losing by 2 goals.
I didn't think we'd played badly and the statistics agreed with me. I had to instigate something.
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We made a tactical change and substitution.
His greatness, Zinedine Zidane, was playing as LWB facing up to McManaman, we had nothing to lose now so I pushed Macca forward. Unsworth moved forward the same but that move was a desperate one. Gazza hadn't been up to it and before he lunged in on anyone recklessly I replaced him, Nick Barmby was coming on.
I imagined taking my seat in the dugout, it would be silent. The crowd full of verve of course but I'd have shut them out, in a dream state I would have shunned everything going on around me. When the whistle went I'd jump to my feet and urge the players forward like a fan, Come on ENGLAND!
The second half was under way and the players had reacted, they were up for the fight and that pleased me. Keep up the pressure and make something happen I repeated within.
In the 73rd minute Macca targets an isolated Zizou. He drops a shoulder to the right, Zizou thinks he's done his job showing him outside but he's been skinned before he knows it. Macca reaches the byline and literally smsshes the ball towards the 6yrd box, out comes Leboeuf's hand and the ref spots it immediately, penalty to England.
My heart was in my mouth but as Sir Alan steps up.....GOAL!! It's 2-1 and we're back in it with twenty to play. We launched attack after attack, they dug deep, we pressed forward, they cleared the ball, we threw everything at them. At one point I counted 14 England players on the field we were everywhere, the players gave everything but there was no break through. It wasn't to be, the dream was over, France had won the World Cup on home soil.
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We can be proud. We gave it everything and we enjoyed it. Thanks for the memories at least.