We’re following the Saints on their last successful promotion campaign. Back in the Spring of 1978. At the end of January we were dumped out of the Cup by Bristol Rovers, leaving us free to concentrate on the League!
Our first game in February was a 3-3 draw at Burnley which left us 3rd in Div 2, a point adrift of Spurs and Bolton and 4 ahead of the Seagulls.
On the 11th February we met Millwall at The Dell. I have both the programme for this match and my complimentary ticket (thanks Basil), West Stand centre, row B, seat 84. The programme has our team as Turner, Waldron, Peach, Williams, Nicholl, Pickering, Ball, Boyer, MacDougall, Holmes and Andruszewski and the Ref was Ray Lewis of Great Bookham. There are no annotations at all on this programme, probably because Millwall completed the double over us with a 3-2 win. I guess I was sulking. I know our scorers that day were McDougall and Peach but can find no match report on the internet to fill in the other blanks. By the way, Lex had still not flogged that Jaguar.
Saints bounced back with two home wins and two 0-0 away draws, one of which was at table-toppers Bolton. Over the Easter weekend they pummelled Charlton and Bristol Rovers before going down to a 1-0 defeat at Cardiff.
Into the last month of the season, Saints had 7 more games to play. On 1st April they laid down a marker against Blackburn. Rovers had been flirting with the promotion race all season but were soundly thrashed at The Dell - goals from MacDougal, Funnell, Holmes and another Boyer brace set up a 5-0 win.
Tricky away games at Fulham (1-1) and Hull (3-0) were negotiated before Saints stumbled to a 2-2 draw with Oldham in their penultimate home game. Our last 3 fixtures were away at Luton and Orient, then home to Spurs. I resolved to go to them all. I booked the time off work and made my ferry bookings.
My brother Drew was working nights at West Middlesex Hospital so couldn’t make the Orient match, but our mate Neil (with a house in Leytonstone) was up to go to all three matches.
The morning of 22 April 1978 was bright and sunny. I took my white Vauxhall Viva over on an early ferry and headed up the A3 to London. I remember this journey vividly because a lorry load of straw was on fire at the side of the road north of Guildford. As I passed, giving it a wide berth, there was an enormous explosion and I watched huge yellow flames engulf the cab in my rear view mirror. For miles ahead, the pall of black smoke hung in the sky.
Pre congestion charging, the quickest way through London at weekends was right through the middle so I followed the A3 to the Thames then headed east along Embankment, through the City to Leytonstone where I picked up Neil. Neither Drew nor I can remember where we met him that lunchtime but meet him we did. We then made our way to Luton.
My memory of Luton is row upon row of back to back terracing. We parked as close to Kenilworth Road as we could and walked. The entrance to the away end was through one such terrace and it was already fairly full of Saints fans when we arrived. Indeed, our abiding memory is there were more of us than them in the 14,302 crowd, but I’ve since realised that the excitement of major footballing occasions sometimes causes you to lose your grip on reality.
Back in January, Luton had fired manager Harry Haslam and promoted his young assistant, David Pleat. In the coming years, David would give Luton their finest years and produce an exciting side that held their own in the top flight for several seasons. In the spring of ‘78 however, he was settling in to his new role and Luton were safely sat in mid table.
I was unable to buy a programme for this match but the Saints team that
afternoon comprised Wells, Andruszewski, Peach, Williams, Nicholl, Pickering, Ball, Boyer, MacDougal, Holmes and Funnell with Hebberd on the bench. I seem to recall we were better than Luton that day but that counts for nothing of course if you fail to stick the bladder in the onion bag. Tension was eased when David Peach put us ahead. Sorry - I remember absolutely nothing about that goal. Nor do I remember Luton’s equaliser which arrived on queue.
What I’ll never forget is Ted MacDougal’s second half winner. Saints got a free kick on the right and Bally sized it up as our big men moved into the box. The cross was an absolute gem, away from their keeper and drifting invitingly across the goalmouth. Ted rose, like the proverbial salmon, and buried a bullet header into the back of the net.
There was a moment of silence - you could have heard a pin drop. Ted had been brought in to snaffle goals from close range. He’d scored with his arse, his shin, indeed most of his anatomy. What he didn’t do was out jump defenders and powerfully head home - until that afternoon. Then the away end erupted and I sensed then that everything was going to turn out OK. We held the lead and finished 2-1 winners. On reaching the car and turning on Sports Report, our joy turned to ecstasy. Both Spurs and Bolton had dropped points and, with a week of the season left, Saints were sat top of the table for the first time!
The trip home was funny. As we cut through London on our way to Neil’s house he asked “Anyone fancy a kebab?” Of course we did, so he guided us to one he knew near NE London Polytechnic where he was studying. We were out of the car, ordering take aways when we suddenly felt hundreds of eyes upon our backs. It seemed the whole restaurant was full of Spurs fans, fresh from their afternoon’s disappointment. Here were we in their backyard, clad in Saints garb, laughing and joking. We grabbed our Doners and beat a hasty retreat.
Drew had to work Sunday but I met up with him again on Monday while Neil was at lectures. We visited Hampton Court. The next evening Neil and I went to watch Saints at Orient. They reckon the crowd was 18000 and certainly the whole side of the ground where I was stood was all Saints. We were crammed in and further along the terrace a wall collapsed onto the running track.
I’ve got the Orient programme for that match. Saints were unaltered for the 6th game running and Orient (they’d temporarily dropped the Leyton) had stalwarts like John Jackson, Phil Hoadley, Glenn Roeder and Tony Grealish in their side. On the left wing was the splendidly named Tunji Banjo. Don’t remember much about the match apart from Tony Funnell’s goal that earned us a 1-1 draw.
When we went to bed that night, Saints still topped the League. We were 2 points clear of Brighton in 3rd place with a far better goal difference. (You young folk should know it was just 2 points for a win back then.) The job was just about done - 1 more point would confirm it. On the Wednesday, Spurs won their game in hand and Bolton clinched promotion by winning at Blackburn so on the morning of the last day of the season, the table read:
Pts.
58 - Bolton
56 - Saints
55 - Spurs
54 - Brighton
Neil and Drew arrived from London and we met up with the lads from Drew’s old flat at 101 Atherley Road. We were on the West Stand terracing that afternoon. Saints made the first team change of April bringing in Malcolm Waldron for Mike Pickering. Spurs also fielded a strong side that afternoon: Daines, Naylor, Holmes, Hoddle, McAllister, Perryman, Pratt, Duncan, Jones, McNab and the tricky Peter Taylor wide left.
Unfortunately the game was somewhat of an anticlimax. Bolton were up, we were virtually up - the main point of interest was whether Brighton could pip Spurs for 3rd place. Had we beaten Tottenham, a Brighton win against Blackpool would see them promoted instead but from kick-off both sides at The Dell played as if the draw would suit them. So we took our pleasure from passing false scorelines to away fans in the Archers. “Brighton 5-0 up“. “Now it is 6!” we lied.
Brighton were indeed winning, but not by enough to trouble Tottenham at 0-0. The final minutes of the season must have been agony for their fans as a goal for Saints would scupper their chances. We even struck their post late on but the goal never came and the draw saw us both promoted back to the top flight. We later heard Frank Worthington and his Bolton team mates, after partying hard since Wednesday, got nothing from their final game. So if Saints had scored we’d have gone up as champions! Que Sera.
In Atherley Road afterwards a party of Spurs fans were taking their picnic gear in the boot of their car and uncorking Champagne as we passed. “Thought you’d be keeping that on ice” quipped Neil. They smiled and raised their glasses.
Saints were back in the first division. Lawrie had righted the wrongs of 1974 and achieved a bonus FA Cup win too. During the coming seasons we would see Saints challenging the best teams in the land, signing established Internationals and playing regularly in Europe.
My football life was about to blossom.