Saints were now in the FA Cup semi final and the whole city was going mad with Fa Cup fever, so it was now off to Stamford Bridge for a date with destiny.
Back in the 70's the FA cup draw was done live on the radio on a Monday lunchtime, meaning that for those of us at school back in 1976 it was difficult to find out who we had drawn until school finished.
But two days after beating Bradford City no one at Redbridge School and I suspect other schools across the City were going to miss out on finding out who we got in the semi final immediately.
Back then there were no mobile phones or internet, the nearest we had that could get us the draw would be a small transistor radio (ask your dad if your under 40) and someone delegated to carefully listen to it at the back of the class without the teacher finding out, I suspect most teachers were just as eager to find out as the kids so many a blind eye was turned in classrooms that day.
Apart from Saints the other three teams in the draw were Derby County, Manchester United and Third division Crystal Palace, that meant that Saints and Palace fans really wanted to play each other due to the fact that Derby & United were both in contention for the First Division title and were very much the teams of the moment.
The draw came through and classrooms and workplaces across Southampton erupted as firstly Derby came out of the hat followed by United, meaning Saints had Palace, it was the draw we wanted, it made us firm favourites although deep down many thought that perhaps beating Palace would be as good as it got and that in the Final we would probably be all that stood between a league and cup double, a rare event back then.
The tie was set for 3rd April with the venue being Stamford Bridge, Palace's manager was Malcolm Allison, a very flamboyant character who was trying to turn Palace into another Chelsea, ie a trendy fashionable London club ,, he did this by changing their kit, club badge and nickname, thus having been the Glaziers for their lifetime up to then they suddenly became the Eagles.
However Lawrie McMenemy, then virtually unknown outside of Southampton and to be fair not a great reputation having taken the club to relegation two years earlier stole a march on Allison by making sure Saints got the Shed End for the game, the Shed was traditionally the Chelsea home end and although most of it was open like the opposite North terrace, it did have a roof at the back of the terrace, meaning Saints fans could make themselves heard better. It was a small victory, but it showed that Allison with his lucky fedora would not get things all his own way in the pre match hype.
For this game I was able to get a seat on the National Coaches, my normal way of travelling that season, along with a larger than usual contingent with everyone wanting to go to this game.
The roads up to West London were chocka block, but we finally arrived in good time parking up with what seemed like a Saints coach arriving every minute, certainly the roads around Stamford Bridge seemed to be a sea of Red & White and not claret and blue.
In the ground the Shed was soon filling up and Saints were in good voice, Saints officially had 23,500 tickets in the 52,810 crowd, but certainly it seemed like we had managed to snaffle most of the neutral allocation as well.
As most semi finals tend to be early doors it was edgy, Saints for the first time in the cup run had the side that would play at Wembley, this was because Hugh Fisher despite his desperation to play in the game was professional enough to admit he was feeling a bit of a strain and therefore dropped to the bench.
The first half was relatively uneventful with both teams struggling to find their form and the defences keeping it tight
Saints kicked towards their own supporters in the Shed for the second half, but the game seemingly would not spring into life, both sides not willing to commit to all out attack that might see them caught out at the other end.
But it was Saints who were starting to impose themselves on the game and although you would not exactly call them chances, they were at least creating something.
With 15 minutes to go many were thinking that the deadlock would not be broken, then the game changed, Peter Osgood rolled a pass to Paul Gilchrist who suddenly let fly, the ball brushed past Mick Channon's sock and flew into the net, never going above knee height all the way.
Pandemonium on the terrace behind the goal ensued, but if Palace harboured thoughts of a comeback, five minutes later came a second Saints goal, Mick Channon was brought down on the edge of the box, was it inside or outside, the Saints fans screamed penalty, the ref pointed to the spot .
Problem was that Saints had a penalty taking problem, Mick Channon had missed two that season and Jim McCalliog one, who would have a go now, unknown to the supporters David Peach was now the penalty taker and his first for the club would be the most important one in it's history to date.
The ground was silent, up stepped Peach who blasted it down the middle and it went in, the packed Shed went mad and when it had calmed down everyone looked at their watches to find out that they were now going to spend the longest ten minutes of their lives so far.
But Palace were spent, they were after all a Third division side pumped up by their manager, but once that hype had gone they were no match for Saints, indeed it was the men in red & white stripes who should have made it three to make sure of no comeback when Channon one on one put his shot wide.
I would say that the celebrations at the final whistle were as passionate as i have ever seen, the club was at Wembley for the first time in it's history and for the first time I saw grown men cry.
In the roads outside the ground strangers hugged each other, purely because they had the same colours on, on the coach back it was singing all the way and cars and coaches honked their horna and waved at each other as they crawled out of London.
We came back via the A3 and stopped at the Windmill at Four Marks for an hour, it was packed with Saints fans and the landlord turned a blind eye to serving a group of 14 year olds, perhaps he knew that it was better to do that and keep the atmosphere happy, I don't know but I can still remember the feelings of euphoria.
Now came Manchester United at Wembley would this be the end of the road.