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BLIND, STUPID AND DESPERATE
 
It's a long way to...
Chepstow
 
Hornet thoughts
By Julie Gibbens, South-West Hornets

9.30 pm, Monday 31st May 1999
I arrived home in Chepstow finally shedding the tears that had threatened all day, the sounds of Wembley still ringing in my ears and with little voice left. A frustrating end to the day, the only highlight as the M4 took me further and further away, the dozen or so cars, proudly sporting their Watford colours, faces lighting up as I hooted past them. I spent an hour on the phone to Watford - ringing those I hadn't seen but knew were there, and those who didn't go but would love to hear.

Tuesday 1st June 1999
I wear my Wembley T-shirt around Chepstow and into College. Nobody seems to notice as I buy every newspaper and I wished it was possible to drive back up today and join in the celebrations, the cars hooting and the fleeting glimpse of the players and GT as they go past on the bus.

It got me thinking...

When I look back over the past twenty years, apart from the elation of the births of my children, my wedding day and the traumas of family illnesses so many of my memories belong to Watford Football Club. At times like this they come flooding back...

...the elation of staying up in 1979/80, the joy of the long trip home from Wrexham in April 1981 - the first away win of the season - when in the top of the stand you felt like you needed oxygen - so steep and so high was it...

...the never-to-be-forgotten season of 1981/82, culminating in the 2-0 win over Wrexham when we danced on the pitch thinking nothing could ever match that feeling again...until the next game...

...suddenly we're in Division 1: Watford 2 - Everton 0, Watford 8 - Sunderland 0, the visits all over the country with the Family Enclosure culminating in the runners up spot...

...the pride and joy of standing in Kaiserslautern singing our hearts out for our boys...

...the fear in the crush outside the stadium in Prague, rescued by Ted who hauled me into the air as I began to be lost in a sea of bodies followed by the sheer disbelief that - with the reputation of England fans gone before us - we were split into groups of five - three or four hundred fans dotted around a thirty thousand capacity crowd...

...celebrating my 21st birthday the very day we beat Luton 2-1 at Kenilworth Road, totally ruined by Roger Milford sending off Wilf Rostron...

...that wonderful day at Wembley in part ruined by the result, but never forgotten in the last fifteen years...

...getting married in October 1986 and listening to the radio between the church and the reception - 1-0 defeat at Arsenal, knew I should have gone...

...watching GT as he waved to the fans at Steve Sherwood's testimonial, little knowing that he was waving goodbye...

...greeting the news of Dave Bassett's arrival with trepidation but giving him a chance.then watching as he sold the team and departed within six months and down we went...

...the next few years become a little blurred - passionless displays, the celebrations reserved for the days we stayed up. Still going as often as possible in spite of three pregnancies in quick succession - men have no idea how uncomfortable football stadium are for heavily pregnant women! All the while watching with abject misery the abuse of one Graham Taylor...

...1994 comes round, suddenly I'm leaving the town where I was born and brought up. Hubby's job calls us to Wales but I resolve to return as often as possible. A highly emotional New Years Day January 1995 sees me in floods of tears - 'It's okay, love...they won...' says one concerned onlooker...and we're off...

...a shock this - not just the moving away but being able to find out so little about my team - waiting for Saturday morning when the Watford Observer is posted through the door...

...and so to 1996 - the girls are used to Mum running around the house shouting whenever we've won. Embarrassing them outside a TV shop in Newport when a win leaves us needing to beat Leicester at home to stay up, but also reliant on other results having to go our way. The emotions ran high - I shouted so loudly at one stage that I think I burst the ear drum of the poor soul in front of me. But even in this bleak game memories are flooding in - as news comes in of Millwall fans rampaging, Watford's are singing "We're going to Shrewsbury"...

...a year in Division 2 - still popping up and down the motorway - actually getting used to home games being away games and knowing that I can hear at least two matches a season on Bristol radio...

...and the Championship...GT back at the helm and I'm either at the game or dancing in Chepstow with every win...

...the thrill of actually meeting GT at the Chepstow Joggers 21st Birthday Party, I totally embarrass myself by telling him he's my hero...

...my birthday comes round again, 2-1 at home to Bournemouth - what a night - Watford supporters suddenly show their true passion and the trip home flies by. If we win at Fulham and Bristol City lose we've won the Championship and so we do. I come up for the tour of the town - people in Chepstow are beginning to think I am very sad...

...it's not quite as frustrating living in Chepstow in Division 1 - teletext give pre- and post-match reports and I listen to the Swindon and Bristol City matches on the radio...

...the catalyst - Tranmere - I take my eldest daughter for the first time. Ten minutes gone and she asks "when is it half time?". Oh dear. Is she going to be a supporter? Within the hour, she's shouting at the ref, cheering the goals and singing along. Yes, I think she could be! And the joy the following morning of being called 'a passionate' crowd by the Sunday Times...

...suddenly I'm running up and down the motorway every week - or so it seems - it's costing a fortune but I can't miss out...

...the Birmingham game ends and we're cheering the players off the pitch but it doesn't seem like we're not going to see them again this season...

...on to the utter frustration of listening to a completely biased Five Live commentary at St Andrews. I'm shouting at the radio because they've forgotten we beat them at home, had a player sent off and had a passionate crowd or perhaps they don't know...

...so to penalties - apart from being there, listening to radio commentary of a penalty shoot out is one of the most nerve wracking experiences because there's the split second delay before they tell you whether it's in or it's missed. And then I'm jumping around the room and people from Watford are ringing. Am I coming to Wembley? What do they think?!...

...ticket safely purchased, I drive up on Sunday afternoon listening to the Man City - Gillingham game and beginning to feel sick. Monday morning comes and I go with my Godson, his mum and brother and they want to know what it was like in 1984 and I remember I was only twenty-one and yet fifteen years on I'm even more passionate, excited and nervous and yet in a strange way calm because everywhere are Watford fans who believe - really believe - that we are going to win. We're not just here this time, we're going to win it! I predict 3-1 - okay, so I gave them a goal but I got the two clear goals right...

...and WHAT A DAY, WHAT A TEAM, WHAT A MANAGER...

...afterwards, still pinching ourselves in disbelief and slowly changing the chant from "we're going up" to "we are Premier League", we make our way to Wembley Park. One of the staff has a megaphone:

"Platform 2 - trains to Watford"
"Platform 3 - trains to Stanmore"
"Platform 5 - as if you care - trains to London"

and he was right, we didn't care because we were going home to Watford (albeit briefly for some of us). Our beloved team are in the Premiership with my Hero in charge. The M4 has been seeing a lot of me this season....