By continuing to use the site, you agree to our use of cookies and to abide by our Terms and Conditions. We in turn value your personal details in accordance with our Privacy Policy.
Please log in or register. Registered visitors get fewer ads.
I drove past my old Middle School today on my way to dropping my son off to nursery. It seemed rather apt as I was a pupil there in 1990 as an 11 year old kid the last time England reached a world cup semi-final. Shell suits were in, trainers were bling and naturally there was always one kid in the class who had the latest Nike Air's and the Official astronomically expensive England shell suite whilst most kids had to settle for market knock offs and Gola's on their feet. I remember the whole thing being very exciting back then. The hype, the Italy 90 Subbuteo set my older brother and I have gone 30/70 on at Woolworths, me with my pocket money and him with his vastly superior paper round money and that Orbis World Cup 90 sticker binder which my brother still has to this day.
I did have vague but fond recollections of the previous world cup in Mexico four years earlier but during that tournament, often had to give the England matches a swerve as they were on too late in an evening. So Italia 90 was the first time I was following a World cup with all my friends as genuine England fans knowing the players the teams and the expectations - it was brilliant and seemed like this would be the norm. England doing well in tournaments, being one of the top nations and Gazza of course had captured everyone’s attention. West Germany was always going to be a massive ask and I remember being transfixed to the old Toshiba wooden boxed TV in our living room as the two sides thrashed out that 1-1 draw. England had saved their best performance for that match and gave it everything but the luck deserted them when it mattered most. Tears in the evening but going into School the next day we were all so proud to be supporting England and wanted to see much more of Gascoigne. Ridiculously, I was 19 the next time I’d see England at a World Cup and football and life in general had changed so much.
1
So come on then, 1990 - Your memories on 11:03 - Jul 11 with 3267 views
Similar experience for me, I assume we must be around the same age.
I do recall somehow just missing kick off which was annoying, had been out with my Mum for some reason. Such a tight game, Waddle hit the post in extra time, so did they. What I clearly remember from the penalty shoot out was when Pearce stepped up and of course he was the penalty taker at Forest, the commentator alluded to this and my first thought was "I bet he's going to miss this"
I'm expecting similar antics from that idiot Tyldesley tonight, he always loves to put the mockers on things.
Watched it in a pub on hammersmith riverside. It's got all oars from the ceiling? Anyway when Lineker equalised some of those came crashing down. Went into Chiswick afterwards and wept into my ale.
0
So come on then, 1990 - Your memories on 11:18 - Jul 11 with 3239 views
I remember Italia 90 as a whole but the only game i can really remember the watching of was the epic opener and the Cameroons wiping out Canniggia and co:
A magnificent football club, the love of our lives, finding a way to finally have its day in the sun.
Main thing I remember is I didn't think it was a big deal. i was 14, had seen England made the Q/F 4 years earlier and should have got further, I didn't appreciate how big it was at the time similar to Wembley 86.
I do remember vividly sobbing my eyes out when it was all over and then the feeling of pride in the days after. I watched the 3rd place game and spoke to my Dad with us both saying we would win the next one and this was the start not the end of something. 4 Years later we didn't even qualify.
Christ I'm nervous for tonight
0
So come on then, 1990 - Your memories on 11:25 - Jul 11 with 3219 views
First match was a dreadful 1-1 draw with Ireland. Then we played well in a 0-0 with a very good Dutch side who were reigning Euro champions. All games were drawn to that point and there was talk of drawing lots to see who went through. We managed an unconvincing 1-0 win over Egypt (Mark Wright header) to ensure qualification.
Bobby Robson is hailed as a bit of a hero now but at that stage he was anything but. He was pretty much forced into using a sweeper system that turned out to be successful.
First knockout game was v Belgium. My parents were away so everyone was round at ours. Tense game where frankly we were outplayed but managed not to concede. We drank pretty quietly and nervously through the game. Then that Platt volley in the last minute of extra time, and an explosion of bodies in our front room.
Cameroon in the quarter final. This time we were in the Shaftesbury pub in Harrow. Packed and everyone super confident we would beat Roger Milla and his mates. And for a long time it remained that way. We took the lead and appeared to be coasting. Then Cameroon scored twice and the mood changed to mass anxiety. With not long to go I went and got another pint to calm the nerves. I think there was 7 mins left when Lineker got the penalty. I lost half the pint in the celebrations for the pen, and the other half when he scored it. Back to the bar again... Of course we got another pen in extra time and won the game. Mass celebrations afterwards, everyone dancing on the roundabout outside the pub, cars and buses blowing horns in celebration. It went on for a long time after the pub had closed. A fantastic night that will (and already has) live long in the memory.
I was going to Ibiza with then girlfriend the night of the semi. We got to the airport and tried to find somewhere to watch the game, Nothing in the terminal except one guy with one of those tiny portable TV's with too many people crowded around him and it had a terrible picture anyway. Someone said the other terminal had a TV so we went there and watched it. The GF ferried pints of Lowenbrau to me as it got more tense. 1-0 down to a free kick that deflected off Paul Parker's head. Then Parker crossed and Lineker scored. For the next few mins, and for the only time in my life (I'm hoping that changes very soon), I genuinely believed we were going to win the world cup. Extra time, during which I think both teams hit the post and then pens. By this time some check in girls had come over to watch. When Pearce stepped up one asked if he would score. "Great penalty taker, never misses" I replied... Well technically he didn't miss, it was saved! Most of us thought Waddle had scored as it flew past the keeper and then reality dawned. Gutted. It still hurts.
We checked in late because of the extra time and had to sit apart. I got stuck next to a German couple who ordered champagne, FML.
The day of the final my spirits had lifted by being a few days into a great holiday. There were plenty of Germans in our hotel and we went into the TV room to watch the final. When Germany scored they all stood there and applauded. That was it. They applauded again at the end. You've just won the bloody world cup, celebrate properly! It was wasted on them.
That night we were out in the main street of San Antonio with pubs full of mainly English. A group of celebrating Germans maybe 40 or so came up the street with flags and chanting. Many of the English came out into the street and blocked the road. The Germans were well outnumbered and a tense standoff ensued for a few minutes. The local police were twitching to get the batons out and keeping a close eye on things. Eventually the Germans turned back and were sent on their way with plenty of verbals. Me and the GF had been by the door of our pub, ready to get back inside if the glass and batons started flying which fortunately they didn't.
The night of the semi I said to the GF "we may never get this close again as long as I live" Well, here we are.
2
So come on then, 1990 - Your memories on 11:29 - Jul 11 with 3205 views
So come on then, 1990 - Your memories on 11:25 - Jul 11 by SydneyRs
Fantastic world cup, but didn't start well.
First match was a dreadful 1-1 draw with Ireland. Then we played well in a 0-0 with a very good Dutch side who were reigning Euro champions. All games were drawn to that point and there was talk of drawing lots to see who went through. We managed an unconvincing 1-0 win over Egypt (Mark Wright header) to ensure qualification.
Bobby Robson is hailed as a bit of a hero now but at that stage he was anything but. He was pretty much forced into using a sweeper system that turned out to be successful.
First knockout game was v Belgium. My parents were away so everyone was round at ours. Tense game where frankly we were outplayed but managed not to concede. We drank pretty quietly and nervously through the game. Then that Platt volley in the last minute of extra time, and an explosion of bodies in our front room.
Cameroon in the quarter final. This time we were in the Shaftesbury pub in Harrow. Packed and everyone super confident we would beat Roger Milla and his mates. And for a long time it remained that way. We took the lead and appeared to be coasting. Then Cameroon scored twice and the mood changed to mass anxiety. With not long to go I went and got another pint to calm the nerves. I think there was 7 mins left when Lineker got the penalty. I lost half the pint in the celebrations for the pen, and the other half when he scored it. Back to the bar again... Of course we got another pen in extra time and won the game. Mass celebrations afterwards, everyone dancing on the roundabout outside the pub, cars and buses blowing horns in celebration. It went on for a long time after the pub had closed. A fantastic night that will (and already has) live long in the memory.
I was going to Ibiza with then girlfriend the night of the semi. We got to the airport and tried to find somewhere to watch the game, Nothing in the terminal except one guy with one of those tiny portable TV's with too many people crowded around him and it had a terrible picture anyway. Someone said the other terminal had a TV so we went there and watched it. The GF ferried pints of Lowenbrau to me as it got more tense. 1-0 down to a free kick that deflected off Paul Parker's head. Then Parker crossed and Lineker scored. For the next few mins, and for the only time in my life (I'm hoping that changes very soon), I genuinely believed we were going to win the world cup. Extra time, during which I think both teams hit the post and then pens. By this time some check in girls had come over to watch. When Pearce stepped up one asked if he would score. "Great penalty taker, never misses" I replied... Well technically he didn't miss, it was saved! Most of us thought Waddle had scored as it flew past the keeper and then reality dawned. Gutted. It still hurts.
We checked in late because of the extra time and had to sit apart. I got stuck next to a German couple who ordered champagne, FML.
The day of the final my spirits had lifted by being a few days into a great holiday. There were plenty of Germans in our hotel and we went into the TV room to watch the final. When Germany scored they all stood there and applauded. That was it. They applauded again at the end. You've just won the bloody world cup, celebrate properly! It was wasted on them.
That night we were out in the main street of San Antonio with pubs full of mainly English. A group of celebrating Germans maybe 40 or so came up the street with flags and chanting. Many of the English came out into the street and blocked the road. The Germans were well outnumbered and a tense standoff ensued for a few minutes. The local police were twitching to get the batons out and keeping a close eye on things. Eventually the Germans turned back and were sent on their way with plenty of verbals. Me and the GF had been by the door of our pub, ready to get back inside if the glass and batons started flying which fortunately they didn't.
The night of the semi I said to the GF "we may never get this close again as long as I live" Well, here we are.
and it's there by David PLAAAAATTTTTT!!!!!
A magnificent football club, the love of our lives, finding a way to finally have its day in the sun.
I just remember it being a long hot summer , being out with mates all through it every day/night it seemed , just brilliant times and something that will never ever be beaten yeah I had a shell suit too, as well some lairy shirts , champion sports were in and I wore a lot of that stuff as well Nike airs, Ellessee , chevingnon, joe bloggs etc I had curtains as a haircut, and wore at times bright red kickers , everything seemed so colourful , Italian house was what I was in to as well as hip hop ATCQ. Jungle brothers, De la soul and I just started buying records every weekend, I was also helping my dad being a labourer part time which gave me the chance to first start earning, I recall rushing home to watch Cameroon beat Argentina I was going mad what a start to the tournament , in fact I watched every game , the Germans were brilliant beating Yugoslavia I loved matteaus as a player the complete midfielder for me oh and michels hatrick for spain was great and I also loved Stojkovic and his free kicks , now he could run a game and im sure he ended up at Milan after that world cup England /Ireland was awful a bit like watching Englan vs Iceland , then the Saturday night we played Holland and Paul Parker started I was as proud as him seeing a QPR boy play I must have been as nervous as him as well as I wanted him to do so well we took the game to the dutch and should have won , PP was brilliant at right back much better than the below average Stevens the Egypt game was terrible but we nicked it and we were there Cameroon was everyone's 2nd favourite team and seeing Milla scoring against Romania and Colombia was superb especially when he mugged heguita (sp) that Cameroon kit was the dogs btw , oh and big Jan had been announced as our new signing as he was trying to keep out Baggio and co against Italy , I was looking forward to him playing for us the Belgium game me and the old man were watching it with his mates and to say it was tense was an understatement they hit the post twice I think, (shilton was so static during that tournament in fact he was garbage ) when Gazza went down in the last seconds we all thought he was going to shoot from 45 yards we were screaming NOOOOOOOOOO, Then platt bang may hysteria insured in the living room the ceiling had a hole put through it by yours truly but I blamed it on my dads mates , Argentina bored their way through against Yugoslavia with them missing all the spot kicks and Ireland were great against Romania, The Qtr final we all thought we would win comfortably , a walk in the park etc how wrong were we, I watched this again with my dad and his mates they were all lashed up and already talking about the semi against the Germans , the first half was awful then platty scored and we thought that's it , Gazza lost his head gave away a penalty and we all laughed thinking this shouldnt be happening , then they broke and went 2-1 up , I was nearly in tears and calling them all the names under the sun , then Lineker got us in it , relief we are going to the semi I do recall the night before Maradona back in Naples and again knocking Italy out , how jammy were the Argies and how hated were they I rushed home with dad from work and this time we watched it at home as the game went on I thought we are getting nothing out of this then poor old PP , the only one to block the free kick , and shilton (how can you get lobbed on your own line ffs ) the penalties I knew we would bottle it, I just remember going straight to bed after my sister had a big party at the house the day of the 3rd place play off , tons of 14 year old girls running around the place the day of the 3rd place play off I went down the pub and just sat there not paying attention the only thing that grabbed me was Bobby Robson actually playing PP as a CB Graham taylor was waiting in the wings and its hard to think that he practically dismantled that team within 2 years anyway what a summer , Italian House, E's , Chippie, Champion, Platty, Gazza , Milla, Baggio, Nike Airs, Reebok classics , Morroco black , girls with short bobbed permed hair , brian moore and big ron commentating, lets all have a Disco, , no mobiles just good mates & memories that will never fade i really I cant hear Nessun Dorma without tearing up
And Bowles is onside, Swinburne has come rushing out of his goal , what can Bowles do here , onto the left foot no, on to the right foot
That’s there that’s two, and that’s Bowles
Brian Moore
1
So come on then, 1990 - Your memories on 12:16 - Jul 11 with 3121 views
I was on a bit of a high as I was leaving work in a few months to go on my first global wanderings, so I was a mix of: d-mob happy, confident; and largely squiffy for the whole month of Italia 90. My housemate at the time worked for Fulham FC, and he had arranged a couple of tickets for the final if we'd won.
When the game ended; the pub divided into two: those crestfallen and speechless that such a great run and a gallant effort from Bobby's Boys had ended like this; and the idiots!!
The idiots wanted to conga down Putney High Street to 'show we were English' whereas we were just sat zombie on our chairs. The idiots persisted in trying to recruit people to 'conga' who basically told them to 'f-off!'
Then one of the idiots - a woman of an age that should have known better - came up to us and started effing and jeffing. Then her idiot fella and the gang of 'idiot-congaistas' thought they might try it on. Only thing was, not only had they not reckoned that we were twenty-handed, but the non-idiot element of the pub decided that if they wanted, they were going to get their own World Cup exit right there and then.
The idiots left to conga down toward the Thames. My lot finished up and started to leave - the walk to Putney Bridge station was memorable for the fact that there were many idiots looking for a ruck and some were clearly taking the defeat badly, and decided that German made cars could bare the brunt of their frustrations.
I sincerely hope tonight, if we lose, such idiocy is not on display by England fans over there or by those at home.
Just a dreadful night on all fronts. Anyone read 'All Played Out' by Pete Davis (I think that was his name)? Brilliant account of England at Italia 90.
[Post edited 11 Jul 2018 12:28]
'Always In Motion' by John Honney available on amazon.co.uk
I missed the semi final of that year as I was at a Rolling Stones concert at Wembley. Didn't know the result until Mick Jagger announced morosely between songs that " we lost ".
Agree with an earlier poster, it was a slow start for England, but they gathered a bit of momentum after the group stages. I recall Ireland [ England's B team as they were also known as] were drawing a lot of attention that year. The Irish never stop reminding themselves about it. The fuss they made then and now would make anyone clueless or forgotten about 1990, think they had won the cup that year.
There aint half been some clever bastards.
0
So come on then, 1990 - Your memories on 13:53 - Jul 11 with 2991 views
So come on then, 1990 - Your memories on 12:16 - Jul 11 by PlanetHonneywood
Pub in Putney, with about 20 mates.
I was on a bit of a high as I was leaving work in a few months to go on my first global wanderings, so I was a mix of: d-mob happy, confident; and largely squiffy for the whole month of Italia 90. My housemate at the time worked for Fulham FC, and he had arranged a couple of tickets for the final if we'd won.
When the game ended; the pub divided into two: those crestfallen and speechless that such a great run and a gallant effort from Bobby's Boys had ended like this; and the idiots!!
The idiots wanted to conga down Putney High Street to 'show we were English' whereas we were just sat zombie on our chairs. The idiots persisted in trying to recruit people to 'conga' who basically told them to 'f-off!'
Then one of the idiots - a woman of an age that should have known better - came up to us and started effing and jeffing. Then her idiot fella and the gang of 'idiot-congaistas' thought they might try it on. Only thing was, not only had they not reckoned that we were twenty-handed, but the non-idiot element of the pub decided that if they wanted, they were going to get their own World Cup exit right there and then.
The idiots left to conga down toward the Thames. My lot finished up and started to leave - the walk to Putney Bridge station was memorable for the fact that there were many idiots looking for a ruck and some were clearly taking the defeat badly, and decided that German made cars could bare the brunt of their frustrations.
I sincerely hope tonight, if we lose, such idiocy is not on display by England fans over there or by those at home.
Just a dreadful night on all fronts. Anyone read 'All Played Out' by Pete Davis (I think that was his name)? Brilliant account of England at Italia 90.
[Post edited 11 Jul 2018 12:28]
yeah its a great read that especially the Bobby Robson parts and the way the press were on him if you want to re capture what it was like go on youtube and watch Kevin Allens World cup 90 diary , the bit with the England fans in the Hoolie buses going to Naples is brilliant
And Bowles is onside, Swinburne has come rushing out of his goal , what can Bowles do here , onto the left foot no, on to the right foot
That’s there that’s two, and that’s Bowles
Brian Moore
0
So come on then, 1990 - Your memories on 13:59 - Jul 11 with 2983 views
I was in Sardinia for 5 days to see the Holland game with 6 or 7 other mates and all manner of mayhem and japery ensued, it was definitely one of the most memorable trips of my life to date.
If anyone has read Bill Buford's passage about the day of the game in ‘Among The Thugs’, I reckon the fella must have been about six foot away from me all day, because it's more or less exactly what I would write.
As anyone who followed England in those days may remember, we rarely had more than 5-6000 at tournaments all told, 95% of whom were ‘erberts.
In 1990 I had shoulder length hair (sadly long-gone) and wore mostly Chipie, Chevignon, Classic Nouveau, CP Company and Stone Island, whilst my Walkman was busting hip-hop, hardcore, house and techno- basically whatever I had taped from Kiss- plus the Roses and the Mondays et al.
I actually remember exactly what I was wearing the day of the Holland game, which included a white fishing hat with an SAS badge on it (well, I was 19 at the time).
After returning to Blighty with a very sore shoulder (courtesy of the Carabinieri) I watched the Belgium and Cameroon games in our local de jour, which was rammed throughout the tournament. I remember well the roller-coaster ride of both games and the wild celebrations after we won them.
We watched the semi there too, another roller coaster until the infamous ending. It’s fair to say the mood in the pub at the end of the game was somewhat tetchy, as it was across much of the country, and local pubs emptied as we all headed into town for a punch-up with anyone (or anything) looking vaguely foreign or uninterested in football.
Cue more mayhem.
The team returned from the tournament on the next Sunday; on the spur of the moment and being just down the M1 from Luton Airport three carloads of us set off from the pub to meet the team bus, along with thousands of other people, rounding off a very memorable couple of weeks that had contained almost every possible emotion for a callow youth!
[Post edited 11 Jul 2018 15:06]
0
So come on then, 1990 - Your memories on 15:12 - Jul 11 with 2882 views
The game was on on the evening of my engagement party. There was a TV in the corner of the restaurant but my now ex-wife got very put out when half of us wandered continuously over. And then we went out on penalties and it was a very awkward quiet evening after that back home. But we got divorced 7 years later so it all worked out really.
I lived in a tower block* on Chippenham Road at the time, just off the Harrow Road, where the Windsor Castle pub resides. The flats were like prefabs stacked on top of each other, the caravan in the sky my mate nicknamed our place on the 9th floor.
11 of us watched the game in the front room, so each of us was an England player. I think I was Waddle. As soon as I saw he'd had his hair cut my heart sank. It was like Samson losing his locks. How true that feeling proved to be. By half time we were sozzled. When Lineker scored the equaliser we leapt up en masse and my brother got knocked out by a punch. We could hardly bear to watch the penalties.
Afterwards we trooped off miserably to the pub. My brother was still muzzy from the punch and off his head on booze and he tried to lead the entire pub in a chorus of "We're playing for England, In-ger-land" but no one was interested. I'd really enjoyed the whole world cup up until that point. I couldn't watch the final.
*the tower block was demolished not long after. Lined with white asbestos. "The most dangerous flats in Britain" ran a Mirror headline once, when we were still living there.
One of our suppliers put on a big do (food & booze all paid for) in a restaurant down by the Thames between Chelsea Bridge & Vauxhall Bridge for us and all their other customers. Great evening until the penalties. Never seen a party go so flat so quickly.
0
So come on then, 1990 - Your memories on 16:40 - Jul 11 with 2753 views
Was working on a permanent late shift at BMW’s Uk HQ, after the 1/4 final everyone stuck in a holiday form, as a compromise we were allowed to start earlier and they laid on a buffet and let us watch the whole game in the canteen, afterwards we were advised do garage our cars if we had one!
favourite cheese mature Cheddar. FFS there is no such thing as the EPL
So come on then, 1990 - Your memories on 11:15 - Jul 11 by ozexile
Watched it in a pub on hammersmith riverside. It's got all oars from the ceiling? Anyway when Lineker equalised some of those came crashing down. Went into Chiswick afterwards and wept into my ale.