Was in the Gillingham end after buying tickets (off an Arsenal fan living in Kent) outside Wembley. Stewards said "hide your colours" but the Gillingham fans didn't care, many of them were at their first match having a day out in London and were benevolently amused at the idea of someone coming from the U.S. just for a football match. At 0-2 down I thought City were destined to become like Blackpool or Preston, a once great force in football now likely to languish in the lower reaches. Got up and left, ignoring the "It's alright, it's only a game" from the Gillingham family next to us. Missed both the Horlock and Dickov goals and watched extra time and the penalties in a Wembley pub. After that came the perfectly joyous minutes of standing in the queue at Wembley Central for the train back into London singing "you can stick your f***ing treble up your arse!" In such a daze that got on a train going in the wrong direction and couldn't get off till Rugby, yet coming back two hours later there were still happy Blues cavorting around on the platforms at Watford and Euston.
Thirteen years later when Dzeko scored v. QPR I said to my brother "Kevin Horlock" ...