29th Mar - Wem-ber-lee, Wem-ber-lee!

I'm not sure you ever forget your first time. For me, it was when I was 7. With my Dad. (Get your minds out of the gutter!). He picked me up after school and I was playing out in the street with my friends, as I did every night. It must have been about 5pm, but it was a sunny evening and we'd been booting my pal Jordan's 'Mitre Ultimax' about for at least an hour before Dad showed up. I had a green sweatshirt on (I think it had 'Ghostbusters' on it?), with some jogging bottoms, and little black school plimsolls. Every Wednesday, my Mum would give me £1 pocket money and I'd spend it on the same thing every week, without fail. 

1 x copy of 'The Beano', and 1 x copy of 'The Dandy'. We'd made an arrangement with the guy in the local newsagents ('The Busy Bee'), to reserve them for me, and I'd collect them after school. I'd store all the old comics in a big airing cupboard we had in the flat, alongside my 'Match' and 'Shoot!' annuals, amassing quite the collection. On this particular night, I hopped in my Dad's creamy-coloured old banger (affectionately nicknamed 'The Rust-Bucket') and we stopped in at his local workplace to chat to a few of his fellow mechanics, one of whom, (Matty), was coming with us. The familiar smell of engine oil filled my nostrils as I explained the latest perils of 'The Bash Street Kids' to my Dad's working-class friends, all chain-smoking their cigarettes and nodding at me in condescending yet caring manner. 

As we approached 'the old Wembley', I'd just about finished ploughing through my comics, and Dad pointed out the famous 'Twin Towers' to me, as we walked up Wembley Way. I could smell the sizzling onions wafting over from the Burger vans, and Dad asked if I wanted something to drink. Back in 1997, there wasn't an array of soft drinks available like you'll see these days with your Sprites and Fantas and cans of Monster etc. Back then, our choices were limited, to tea (I didn't drink hot drinks as a child), or Coca-Cola (which was also the official sponsor of Wembley at the time). Mum had always told me I wasn't to drink Coca-Cola as it was too laden with sugar for my youthful body, and that I was only allowed Diet Coke. I explained this to Dad, who reassured me that in the current absence of the Diet alternative, he was sure Mum would rather that I risk a sugary drink than dehydrate. But my 7-year old self was disciplined to military standards, and I refused.

Dad then bought me a couple of items from the merchandise stand... A faded red colour England baseball cap, and a silky blue scarf with the Three Lions emblem on. I've still got them both, to this day, and they're two of my most prized possessions. As for the match itself, a minute's silence was held prior to kick-off for the recent death of Diana, Princess of Wales. But once the game started, the stadium was rocking in jubilant atmosphere as Glenn Hoddle's men, captained for the night by my childhood hero David Seaman, knocked 4 past Moldova without reply. The first, a Paul Scholes rifle following David Beckham's cross. Paul Gascoigne, who was majestic, and easily the man of the match, added another. Whilst the cherry on this particular cake came from my Arsenal goalscoring icon Ian Wright, who netted a brace. We got home gone midnight, which concerned my Mum as I had school the next morning. I remember falling sleep in the car after we stopped at a McDonalds Drive-Thru on the way back. But the next morning, my Mother informed me of how my Father beamed with tears in his eyes when giving her the debrief of the night in the Kitchen whilst I slept in my bed. "You should have seen him, doing the Mexican Wave!", he grinned to her.

On the way to school the next morning, we stopped outside Touchwood Sports, the local sports shop adjacent to the bus stop. Every morning, I'd marvel at the yellow Arsenal goalkeeper jersey worn by Seaman, which was on a mannequin in the window. I'd go in and ask the shop's manager if I could stroke it, and every morning he'd (somewhat patiently) let me, before putting it back in the display window. I can't tell you how much I wanted that shirt. But I knew, it was never going to happen as we didn't come from the most affluent of financial backgrounds, so I'd carry on daydreaming and watching Big Dave wear it on TV during 'Match of the Day' at the weekend. On this particular morning, my Mum pulled out a crisp £50 note and told me that Dad had given it to her the night before, in the Kitchen. He'd known how much I wanted that shirt, and seeing me at Wembley cemented it in his mind, that this was the final glaze on our reminisco package. Anyway, to cut a long story short... Now, all these years later, the roles have reversed, and tonight, I'm taking my Mum for her first ever venture into Wembley, as we watch England play the Ivory Coast. If it's even half as spectacular as I remember that evening in '97...

... We're in for a magical night.