Southampton reached the FA Cup semi finals twice in the 1970's, here we take a look back down memory lane at the game at Bradford in 1976 and circumstances that surrounded it, I'm sure many reading this will have memories of their own.

1976 is a year that is deeply ingrained in every Saints supporter young or old, in the 5th round of the FA Cup we had defeated West Brom in a replay after a 1-1 draw at the Hawthorns that had seen around 12,000 Saints supporters make the trip to the West Midlands.

Saints were in the Second division back then so when the draw for the quarter finals came out the hope was to avoid Manchester United and Derby, when Monday lunchtime came the outcome was the winners of the tie between First division Norwich City and Fourth division Bradford City, no one expected to be going to Yorkshire, but that is what happened.

Valley Parade back then had a capacity of 23,000, although Bradford rarely got crowds above 4,000 in those days, the stadium if you could call it that was a crumbling ground with little change in the last 50 years or so, it was an accident waiting to happen and so it would prove 9 years later.

However Bradford had seen cup fever of their own, 21,000 had packed into the ground for the 4th round tie against non league Tooting & Mitcham and the board seemed determined to make money from this tie.

They therefore tripled the price for seats in the stands and raised the price of a terrace ticket from 65p to £1.50 with no concessions for the young or old.

In the end this backfired on Bradford, their supporters voted with their feet and to a lesser extend so did Saints fans, we took around 4,000 fans, around 1,000 less than we could have sold in a total attendance of only 14,195.

I went on a special train and when we arrived at Bradford station there was no indication of the very warm welcome we were about to receive, special buses took us to the ground and being at school I was on the crumbling Spion Kop terrace at around 1.30pm

Things were quiet for a while but then things went mad, were they Bradford fans or where they Leeds supporters, no one seemed to be sure, but whoever they were they turned up on the Kop in force for trouble and there was an air of menace throughout the entire game.

During the 90 minutes there was sporadic fighting breaking out everywhere and at least one stabbing, I don't think I have experienced such a toxic atmosphere at a game both before or since.

The game was tense and not a classic, it hinged on two moments, a great save from Ian Turner in the Saints goal and a free kick on 41 minutes where Peter Osgood flicked the ball up and Jim McCalliog volleyed home in front of a stunned home end that responded with a rendition of the then popular ditty of the time "You're gonna get your f***ing heads kicked in" It was that sort of a day.

The final whistle saw celebrations on the Spion Kop then the worry about how we were going to get back to the station that was some 1 1/2 miles away, in the absence of the buses that had been there pre match there was no choice but to walk and what fun that was, this was the 1970's there was no code of ethics back then, if you were a member of the opposition you could expect to get attacked whether you were young or old.

But this was on an industrial scale and as I said I have rarely experienced such general violence at a game before or since, by a little clever tactics I managed to walk back just in front of a policeman hoping that his presence might save me from a good kicking, the fact I was only 14 would not save me from the Yorkshire Neanderthals who were searching for Southern blood.

I thought I had done this without said Copper realising he was all that stood between me and a dozen or so Dr Marten boots whose wearers had realised that I was not from their neck of the woods.

As we got about 100 yards from the station (no metres back then, if he had said 100 metres I would not have known whether that was 100 yards or nearer a mile) my guardian angel turned to me and said " The station is over there on the left, I turn right here, so I suggest thee run for it now and get a head start on that lot over the road"

After wishing him a convivial Yorkshire farewell as per Freddie Truman on Indoor League of "I'll Sith thee" It is fair to say I took his advice.

The police came on the train and advised everyone to pull the blinds down in case it was bricked and we were soon on our way, now we were all waiting for semi final draw on Monday.

Photo: Action Images

codge added 12:07 - Mar 18 Remember that day so well, l to was there with three mates we drove up there remember we were all shoved in behind the goal and all of a sudden a bunch of guys in white doctor coats bearing Laurie’s Red army came charging down the steps and we nearly got crushed. Also remember how open the toilets were and how bad the Stadium was even though they had tried to redo the steps. But a day l will always remember.

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cocklebreath added 09:11 - Mar 19 Great story Nick, I’m not sure if I’m glad or not to have been too young for those days, probably the former , I reckon I’d have got a good hiding quite often
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Horndeansaint added 09:51 - Mar 21 This game lives long in my memory. I went with my best mate, my dad, his dad and one of his dad's mates, sadly all 3 of those older gentlemen no longer with us. My first recollection is that my mates' dad had put a bar of chocolate in his back pocket and unknowingly sat on it all the way to Bradford, not surprisingly, he was wearing it by the time we got there. Having parked in what we hoped would be a safe place, we got in the ground a while before kick off and immediately sensed a very toxic atmosphere. The terrace was partly areas of clinker and broken concrete, ideal missiles for what took place soon after. First of all, the Saints fans were entering through the turnstiles to be met by either Bradford or Leeds hooligans and being attacked one by one so having no realistic chance of defending themselves. We were told that tickets were available on the day to anyone who wanted one. Great idea that one!! My next memory is of a "Party 7", hideous stuff, looping its way from their lot to ours and back again until it eventually emptied itself . The bit I can still picture as clear as if it was yesterday is this lad of about 14 picking up a lump of concrete and launching it down the terrace at a mixture of fighting fans and coppers and hitting one of the boys in blue squarely behind his ear. He went down very dazed and my dad tried to point out the kid who threw it to other coppers but in the mayhem, he got away. There were 2 young Bradford fans near us, about 12 years old who were clearly terrified so we looked after them until the end of the game. As you say, Nick, there were no rules in those days and you took your life in your hands if you didn't watch out. Pleased to say, it's very different now.

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