Season 2011-12 Fan Articles

A strange season: 1974-75

By Mark   Roberts  ::  22/05/2012   42 Comments (»Last) Whilst trawling through the names mentioned in the "Underrated" thread my mind wondered back to a season that at one point with 9 games to go (42 in those days) promised plenty but ultimately ended up delivering fuck all after some crucial and bizzare defeats to some of the division's bottom clubs.

Despite being nicknamed "Bingham's Robots", I, as a 14-year-old standing near the post in the center of the Street End used to love watching this team, Dai Davies, Dobson, Latchford, Lyons, Jones, Telfer & a young David Smallman arrived late on to excite us with his potential that was sadly ruined through injury.

After going through the pre-match repertoire of songs...

Those were the days, my friend; we took the Stretford End,
The Everton bootwalk,
We hate Nottingham Forest,
When you're smiling,
Celtic/Rangers,
Bobby Latchford walks on water,
Now your going to believe us,
We shall not be moved,
Dai Dai Dai - Dai Dai Dai,
Lyons for England etc...

We had usually roughed each other up to the point of being knackered by the time the teams came out.

Anyway, back to the season: it started with a strike partnership of Joe Royle (soon to depart) and big Bob Latchford with an uninspiring 0-0 draw at home to Derby but with 3 wins and 2 draws before tasting defeat for the first time, it was a pretty good start (fuckin brilliant by today's standards). Too many draws were slowing down the progress before a Mick Lyons inspired 3-2 home win over reigning champions Leeds got us all excited again.
More draws and a couple of wins took us to one defeat in 21 before the first of the bizzare defeats, after being 2-0 up at home to bottom club Carlisle they stunned us into silence with a 3-goal comeback that saw them leave with the points.

The turn of the year saw us embark on an FA Cup run that ended disappointingly at home to 2nd Division Fulham but not before we had been on a great away day in the 4th round to Plymouth. I remember looking back up the small terrace at the end of the game and seeing about 30 Bob Latchford lookalikes (center part and scruffy beard) standing on the barriers, celebrating the 3-1 win singing "We shall not be moved." The train journey home made me laugh as everyone seemed to have a green and white scarf that they had liberated from the Plymouth fans brave enough to have a go after the game in the park between the ground and the station.

A couple of good 3-0 wins got us back on track in the league before my first trip to Maine Road, arriving about 20 mins before kick off in the Platt Lane stand behind the goal... It was fuckign bedlam, there was no segregation and it was going off all over the place. I was just delighted to get away without a kicking, a 2-1 defeat was the least of my worries.

A 0-0 draw at Anfield followed by three wins on the bounce saw us top of the league before a tough trip to Leeds, where we did enough to win but the latch missed a great chance late on but the draw was a decent return from Elland Road back then. The MotD pundits at the time had us down as Champions elect that night.

Four defeats in the last nine games, Boro, fuckin Carlisle again, Luton and then Sheff Utd at home after being 2-0 up (Dave Smallman's finest hour) saw us drop like a stone. Just to rub it in even Liverpool overtook us that day after we had looked down on them for most of the season. A final day draw at Chelsea was our 18th draw of a season that could and should have made our 70s memories a little different, but for me in my teens on the terraces and the specials, it was a magical even if trophyless time.

The experience of a packed terrace in full voice is something that has rightly been lost in the evolution of modern day football but it is a memory that I cherish.

How about you ?

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