A Day to Remember
Date: Tuesday, 14th May 2002
Author: Gary Lancaster
At the end of Manchester United versus Charlton Athletic on Saturday, I rose with fellow reds in the West stand to applaud the players and thank them for an interesting and at times very exciting season. It was about this time it really hit me that the next day I would be out on the hallowed turf, hoofing the ball around for 90 minutes.
A 27 year-old from Portsmouth strutting his stuff at the home of Manchester's finest? How is this possible I hear you ask? Well one day in February I was listening to a popular sports radio station when I heard about an organisation called FootBallAid, and how they were offering us mere mortals the chance to bid for places in charity games at top clubs in the UK. The money raised would go towards research into a cure for diabetes and also a percentage for charities local to the clubs involved.
I checked out their website, and to my delight, Manchester United were amongst those hosting a match. Via an online auction, I made several increasing bids and after the deadline passed, I received an email to inform me I had actually been successful. A hefty credit card payment later and I was truly confirmed as a participant. Much punching of the air and telephoning everyone I know then followed, not to mention explaining to my girlfriend where part of our deposit for a house was being spent!!!
THE DAY ARRIVES
Thanks to a couple of beers the night before, I slept quite well until the hotel alarm clock signaled 7:30 AM with it's shrill blast.
I arrived at the North Stand Reception bang on 9:45 a.m. and joined a gaggle of nervous yet excited people who were to share this fantastic experience.
Having watched a short video about the backroom staff of Old Trafford, we were joined by Wilf McGuinness, Paddy Crerand and Brian McClair. Several of us glanced at each other with very wide eyes and massive grins.
We were led out to the pitch perimeter, walked around to the tunnel and into our respective changing rooms. It is not an exaggeration to say that we were all stunned by the sight of United shirts hanging up complete with our own names on the back.
The warm-up passed in a blur, and soon we all lined up in the tunnel, ready to walk out onto the pitch. Emerging from the tunnel is something that will stay with me forever. Walking across the pitch and waving to my family in the North Stand. A champions league style line up, complete with MUTV camera pan, a walking handshake and full team photographs came next.
And so on to the match. My main aim was to play well, get good touches, and make sure I found my teammates with every pass. The first decent shot of the game produced a stunning 30 yard goal from my central midfield partner. I was both envious and utterly delighted for him. I proved this by jumping on him rather violently.
Although I scored no goals myself, I had two particular incidents of which I am most proud.
Having started the move, I latched onto a return pass from Brian McClair and turned my marker inside the area. I then unleashed a low shot that was cleared off the line by a defender. The rebound fell to Choccy McClair who calmly side-footed the ball into the corner of the net. I ran to congratulate the great man, and he said 'Tell you what big man, that was a great turn you just did!' (Heaven: part 1)
My other claim to fame concerned another childhood hero. Mr.Bryan Robson. I spotted the danger of him making an unmarked run to the edge of the box. I was tired, yet sprinted toward him. He received the ball and shaped to wollop a trademark left foot drive at goal. I then produced a sliding tackle which resulted in taking the ball off the former England star's toe. Ever the gent, Robbo shook me by the hand and said 'Well done son, that was a class tackle' (Heaven part 2)
The game ended 6-5 to the opposition after two highly controversial goals in the last 5 minutes to the team in red. The first a dubious 'leveler' penalty following a 28 man goal mouth scramble, the referee having turned a blind eye to both managers sending all their players onto the pitch at this point.
The second bore a remarkable similarity to England's third goal against West Germany in 1966. In this case, the English rather than Russian linesman ruled the ball had crossed the line.
So ended the game, but not the experience. There was still time for more photos, shirt signings and a disturbing shower where a certain former United and Scotland striker decided to steal my shower gel.
We later learned that between our match, and the one scheduled for later that day, we would raise over £70,000 for the charities. Another reason for us to feel proud.
A final mention must go to FootballAid personnel, the ball- boys, officials, cleaners, grounds-man and all the other staff at Old Trafford who gave up their time and helped to make it such a wonderful day.
