I was the same. In fact I actually swore when Horlock scored, thinking it was typical "too little, too late" City. Partly because of that miserable starting mindset, Dickov's goal then took me to heights that I never dreamed were possible for a football fan to experience. In terms of the sheer mania of the celebration it still outranks the Aguerooooo moment for me
The similarities between the two games are incredible really. The biggest two matches in our history (for very different reasons), we need to score twice in stoppage time in both (having never ever done so before or since.......or at least not that I can recall seeing), we barely celebrate the first and we then go batshit insane for the second. There's no other club like ours, there really isn't
Do you remember the chance Dickov had in extra time?
He must have run half the length of the pitch with Gillingham defenders chasing him, and he put it over the bar, IIRC.
In a way, it’s a good thing that he didn’t score, or we’d never seen a lad, who’d never scored for City take the winning penalty nor Nicky Weaver's mental charge around Wembley.
Can't really recall Dickov chance, might if I watched video but I can clearly picture Edgehill scoring.
That was mine too, I reckon.
Only time I’ve cried at a football match since my balls dropped.Seen plenty of relegations in all my years watching us, even dropping down into the third tier was a bit of a ‘meh’ moment as it’s sort of thing we did of course all the relegations hurt but still took them with the same gallows humour that was indoctrinated into the City mindset, but fuck it felt like I’d died a little inside at that point
To be fair we mulled them. Cherry who averaged around letting in 5 goals a game against us had the game of his life.Notts County away in the FA Cup. Early 1990's. My dad had taken me to my first ever away match at Burnley in the 3rd round. We won and drew Port Vale away. We managed to get tickets for that and won there. Then we drew Notts County, another lower league team. I was so utterly convinced that I was our lucky mascot and with me there I'd be following us all the way to Wembley.
That game genuinely knocked the stuffing out of me for weeks. As they say, it's the hope that kills you, and that hope being snatched away hurt like hell.