The European Trail - Bilbao - Jan/Feb 1957

After the hard fought battle with Borrussia Dortmund towards the end of November 1956, Manchester United had to wait another eight weeks before they would face European opposition again in the European Cup. They had been paired with Athletico Bilbao in the forthcoming quarter final tie, and the matches were to be played in Bilbao on January 16th 1957, and in Manchester on February 6th, 1957.

The European fever was really beginning to take hold within the city of Manchester and it was around this time, late 1956, that the magic word "Treble" first began to be heard. I think that it was Tom Jackson of the Manchester Evening News who first wrote about the possibilities of United doing the unprecedented. It was a hard enough task to do the "Double" as that had not been achieved since before the turn of the century, but the "Treble" was seemingly impossible to most pundits when the subject was raised. But this target did not seem to faze Busby's young "Babes", and after the Dortmund tie in Germany, they went about their bread and butter business of retaining their league title.

Between the second game with Dortmund, and the first leg in Bilbao, United only dropped three points in the League - a 2-2 draw at White Hart Lane with Tottenham Hotspur, and a 1-3 reversal at St. Andrews with Birmingham City. The team was in great shape and firing on all cylinders with the trio of Whelan, Taylor, and Viollet hitting the back of the net with regularity.

The draw for the 3rd round of the F.A. Cup had been made in mid-December, and United drew an away fixture with 3rd Division, Hartlepool United, to be played on January 5th 1957. Come the day of the game, and the Victoria Ground in Hartlepool was bursting at the seams as 17, 882 people crammed inside the tiny little ground. There was people sitting in trees overlooking the ground, on the stand roof, in fact at any vantage point they could get - they all wanted to catch a glimpse of the "Busby Babes." The pitch was very heavy as I recall, but it made no difference to United as by half time, they were strolling in with a 3-0 lead courtesy of goals from Taylor, Berry and Whelan. Whatever was put in the Hartlepool player's tea during that interval we shall never know, but after 75 minutes of the game, Hartlepool had the audacity to have drawn level with United at 3-3, and a tremendous upset seemed to be on the cards. But cometh the hour, cometh the man, and the quicksilver Billy Whelan wheedled his way through the Hartlepool defence to score his second goal of the match and to make the score 4-3 in United's favour. They used their experience and ability to hang on to their lead, and they traveled back to Manchester that evening a very relieved team.

The F.A. Cup 4th round draw was made on the Monday lunchtime and United were once again drawn away to 3rd Division opposition - this time to Wrexham, with the tie to played at their Racecourse Ground. Manchester was buzzing with excitement as the quarter final first leg in Spain approached. Bilbao was a place I was all too unfamiliar with back then, and I had to once again refer to my school geography book to find out where it was. The Basque Country in Spain it told me. Back in those days Spain as far as we were concerned was a land of sunshine and that was it. Package holidays to the Costas were unheard of at that time. On the Saturday before the tie, United had a home league game at Old Trafford against Newcastle United which they duly won by 6-1 with Pegg, Viollet, and Whelan all scoring a brace apiece. I attended that game and my memory of it was that Newcastle's goal was the best of the seven scored in the game! It came from a free kick routine that they worked so well in front of United's "wall" and involved 4/5 very quick, short passes, before Jackie Milburn ran on to the ball and thundered it right through the defenders who had broken, and past the unsighted Ray Wood.

And so it was that United left Manchester Airport for Bilbao, on a bitterly cold Monday morning, 14th January, 1957. The trip was rough and the aircraft was tossed about in the turbulent air for most of the way. It was a journey of some 3 hours plus, and for most, not a very pleasant one. Duncan Edwards, who was not the best of travelers at any time, was violently sick all through the journey. As the aircraft approached Spain, the weather turned really nasty and there was heavy snowstorms in the Bilbao vicinity. The pilot had trouble finding the airport, but finally got the break that allowed him to set the aircraft down safely on Spanish soil. The passengers could not disembark quick enough, and as the doors of the plane opened they were met by a cold icy blast blowing right through the cabin. It was snowing heavily outside. The players had expected sunshine, so this was a disappointment to them. Eddie Colman stepped through the aircraft door, took one look around, turned back inside and exclaimed; "Caramba! Just like Salford!" He had such an impy, mischievous, personality.

Duncan Edwards was still feeling unwell late into the Tuesday evening and Busby delayed his team selection until the following morning to allow the big fella' every chance to recover. Fortunately, on the Wednesday morning, Duncan declared himself fit and ready to go - did we ever expect anything else from him! The weather was awful that day, still heavy snow, and there was some debate between the two clubs as to whether the game should go ahead. The pitch was an absolute mud heap and in many areas of the pitch it was so soft that the boot would sink so far into the surface and the mud would ooze inside. United wanted to play because they could not afford any postponements due to the autocratic restrictions placed upon the club by the Football League - they just could not be late back to Manchester and not fulfill their League fixture commitment the following Saturday. The decision was agreed between the two Clubs and the game went ahead.

United lined up; Wood; Foulkes and Byrne; Colman, Jones, and Edwards; Berry, Whelan, Taylor, Viollet, and Pegg. 60,000 Basques crammed into the Estadio San Mames that afternoon and braved the heavy snow that fell throughout the game. United just couldn't cope not only with the conditions, but with the Bilbao team as well. They adapted much the better and as the players trooped in for the half time break, it was 3-0 to Bilbao. Busby never flapped at half time but went about his business quietly, cajoling, encouraging and telling the players that they were not out of the game, especially if the could pull a goal back early on in the second half. Roger Byrne the captain was the one who got stuck into the team and they went back out onto the field in a much more determined mood. They began brightly and started to gain the upper hand. A goal came early from Tommy Taylor - just the fillip that they needed. They pressed the Bilbao team back in their own half, and it was no surprise when Dennis Viollet managed to get the ball over the line for United's second. It was game on! However, the exertions of their efforts began to tell, and in those horrible conditions the United players began to tire. Bilbao took full advantage of the situation and scored twice more to make the score 5-2 in their favour. The game, and more than likely the whole tie, looked to be ebbing away from United - to all intents and purposes, they were down and out. Nobody could envisage them pulling back a 3 goal deficit against this very good Spanish team. But as in the F.A. Cup tie at Hartlepool, cometh the hour, cometh the man - and it was that same man again - Billy Whelan. With time ticking away and getting towards the final minute, this long legged, lean, young Irish man, picked up a loose ball just a little over the half way line out on the left hand side. What he was doing there we'll never know, because Billy was the inside right! But bringing the ball under control he set off on a run towards goal. Where he got his strength from at that particular time in the match is a mystery because he must have been drained from his exertions of the previous 89 minutes. But run he did, dragging that heavy cannonball along with him. He beat one defender and then started to veer towards the inside left position. Again he beat another defender, and continued going in a diagonal line towards the goal. As he approached the penalty area he beat another defender. Jesus Garay, the big Bilbao centre half, was alert to the threat and came thundering along the 18 yards line to make a tackle. Billy had just shoved the ball slightly in front of himself, and Garay, sensing that he had the opportunity to win the ball threw himself into a sliding tackle. Billy was too quick for him. He dragged the ball backwards with the sole of his right boot and Garay went hurtling past him along the ground tackling thin air! Billy moved forward just a yard or two inside the penalty area and then cracked a thunderbolt of shot curling away from the goalkeeper Carmello, and entering the net just beneath the angle of the right hand post and the crossbar. 5-3, and United had a lifeline and some hope! It was no wonder Billy Whelan was mobbed by his young team mates. I have in my possession, a video showing this goal, and even today, I never get tired of watching it. For me, it is one of the greatest goals ever scored in United's great history. Where that dear boy drew his energy, spirit, and resolve from at that stage of the game was just so remarkable that at that time, it was beyond comprehension.

The players were very upbeat at the reception that their Spanish hosts had organized on the evening after the game. 5-3 down was a lot better than going back to Manchester at 5-2, and they now fancied their chances in the return leg.

The following morning, Thursday 17th January, the United party and press corps arrived at the little Bilbao airport, which was covered in snow. The aircrew were there and there was a problem with the aircraft. The captain announced that unless he could get all the ice and snow off the fuselage, then it would be impossible to take off. The airport had few facilities, and once again, the worry about missing the League game the following Saturday, hovered over the United officials. The captain asked for volunteers to help sweep the ice and snow off the aircraft and some ten minutes later, there was the extraordinary sight of the Manchester United players and the Press men, brooms and scrapers in hand, working on the aircraft's fuselage in order to get rid of the ice and snow! There is a famous picture around that shows Bill Foulkes and David Pegg actually stood on the top of the fuselage posing with their brooms held on their shoulders. The operation took over four hours to complete, and once the captain was satisfied, the party embarked, and finally took off for Manchester.

Manchester was abuzz with excitement. The team was into the fourth round of the F.A. Cup, they were leading the League, and now, they had a chance of progressing into the semi-finals of the European Cup. The "Treble" was now looking to be a possibility and the expectation and excitement started to crank up in the next few weeks. Everybody was talking about the coming second leg of the quarter final tie with Bilbao and asking the question as to whether United could really go on and win this unprecedented "Treble?". Could United really do it? Were they actually good enough to turn a two goal deficit around against a very, very good Spanish team? The odds were heavily stacked against United in reality, and for most pundits, their reasoning was that the best United could hope for, was a 2-0 win that would take the tie into an extra game which would have to be played in Paris in France.

Little was I to know at that time, that as well as hearing about one of the greatest goals ever scored in United's history, in three weeks time, I was about to witness what I still consider to be the greatest game of football that I have ever seen in my life!

The Greatest Game of Football During My Lifetime

It was quite late on Thursday January 17, 1957, when the silver Elizabethan aircraft lifted out of Bilbao’s small municipal airport, and into the dim, grey, wet and cloudy, Spanish afternoon. The United players had spent the previous four hours or so helping to free the aircraft of ice and snow, and now they just wanted to get back to Manchester for some rest before their scheduled 1st Division fixture against Sheffield Wednesday at Hillsborough on the following Saturday afternoon. Once again, the ride home was bumpy and several in the party, including poor Duncan once more, were violently airsick during the journey.

The mood in Manchester was one of apprehension – could United claw back that 2 goal deficit in the return encounter? Make no mistake about it, Bilbao were a very good team and it would take a superhuman effort to break them down and progress to the next round – the semi-final. But this young team was capturing everyone’s imagination, and everybody at that time wanted to see them. There was much optimism. They were so young, nothing fazed them, and if they played well on the night, then they were quite capable of beating Bilbao – but by 2 clear goals? We would have to wait almost 3 weeks to see.

Saturday January 19th arrived and the team made the short trip across the Penines to face the Owls of Sheffield Wednesday. It was a bad afternoon for United and a very lethargic performance saw them lose by 2 – 1, Tommy Taylor scoring the goal in front of 51,068 supporters. In retrospect, a defeat was always on the cards given the tough match and conditions that the players had endured in Bilbao the previous Wednesday, and then the exertions of their travel the following day.

United’s next fixture was a fourth round F.A. Cup tie away at The Racecourse Ground, to Third Division Wrexham. Given the tough job that United had had in the third round at Hartlepool, this was a potential banana skin of a fixture. Incredibly, 61,803 spectators packed into the Racecourse that afternoon, and they were not to be disappointed. United were at full strength and ran the Welsh team ragged, running out winners by 5-0, with Tommy Taylor and Billy Whelan, bagging themselves a brace apiece, and Roger Byrne also adding to the scoreline. They were now into the fifth round of that grand old trophy competition, and again, talk of a magnificent treble began to surface.

As fate would have it, the league game before the return leg with Bilbao saw United facing Manchester City at Maine Road, on Saturday, February 2nd 1957. I can recall the game quite well and remember that it was a cold frosty day and I took my place behind the goal at what used to be known as the Platt Lane End. 63,872 crammed into City’s ground that day. Considering the fixture that lay in front of United the following week, this “derby” game couldn’t have come at a worse time. City were well and truly up for it, especially as they had been turned over 2-0 at Old Trafford late in September of the preceding year. United were again at full strength, and they turned on the style once more as they steamrollered City from the off. Edwards was first on the scoresheet with a typical blockbuster from outside of the area which the giant John Savage never got any where near to. Tommy Taylor soared like an eagle above Dave Ewing to get onto a cross from Johnny Berry and bullet the ball into the back of the net. Joe Hayes pulled one back for City just before half time, but almost immediately after the restart, Billy Whelan went on one of his mazy runs before squaring the ball to Dennis Viollet who walked the ball around Savage to make it 3-1. Billy Whelan completed United’s scoring towards the end of the game, but United did allow Don Revie to score a second for City just before the final whistle. 4-2 for United and the red half of Manchester was ecstatic, and as we all trudged home through the dark bitter cold evening after the game – most of the talk was about what time would be reasonable to get up to Old Trafford the following morning to queue for tickets for the following Wednesday night’s game? Brian and I decided that it was to be a 4a.m. start for us once again, and again we were under orders to bring back tickets for the Parish Priest!

Manchester was really buzzing that week. Into the 5th round of the Cup where United had been drawn at home to Everton, were leading the 1st Division, and now had an outside chance of progressing to the semi-finals of this wonderful new European competition. Everybody wanted to see this game against Bilbao. The newspapers were full of it, the radio was full of it, the pub talk was full of it – wherever you went in the city that weekend and the few days afterwards, the question always arose; “Can they do it?” After the “derby” game Busby took the team away out of the city and up to Blackpool where he had them ensconced at The Norbreck Hydro Hotel, a familiar place to the players as it was a retreat that Busby always preferred when he wanted them out of the limelight. It got them away from the constant attention from media and fans and they were able to concentrate on the forthcoming job in hand.

When Brian and I arrived at Old Trafford around 4a.m. on the Sunday morning, the line stretched all the way down Warwick Road to Trafford Road, and then all the way down to Ashburton Road, and well up towards the Trafford Hotel and the western part of Trafford Park.. I can honestly say that I have never, in my lifetime, ever seen such a line of people queuing for something like this. Even at that time, on a bitterly cold frosty February morning, there was an anticipatory buzz amongst the fans. People had come prepared for a long stay, and those that had flasks of hot, or even cold beverages, were only too willing to share them with other fans. It was all part of belonging to the “United Family.” You felt that you belonged, you were wanted, and the players were “our boys.” The Club was part of the community, and they embraced it totally. There was a constant hum of chatter as we queued and most of the chatter was about the coming Wednesday evening. Daylight broke after what seemed an age, and come 10a.m. the first signs that the lines were starting to move began to show. By now the line up Ashburton Road was out of sight going out towards what used to be Taylor’s Steelworks and Turner’s Asbestos Cement Factory. Slowly, inch by inch, yard by yard, the queue moved like a snake slithering on its belly towards its prey. Walter Crikmer was again out on the bridge, puffing on his pipe. I can recall Jimmy walking down the lines passing comments with the fans. There was no aloofness, no prima donna outlook, just a football man spending time amongst football people. As I look back on those days, it always fascinates me as to just how controlled people were. I can’t imagine today, fans queueing like that and standing in line for over 12 hours for a match ticket. Maybe back then people were conditioned to it. Rationing had not long ceased, the war wasn’t over a little more than 11 years, and it was an everyday occurrence to see queues outside of places like the grocer’s shop, the butcher’s shop, the bakery etc. But there was never any whining, just a lot of good natured banter among every day working class folk.
Brian and I obtained our tickets and also once more worked our dodge of getting back into the queue at the top of the line, and even though we were rumbled by a policeman, he turned a blind eye as nobody complained.

From then on in, for the next few days, everything was focused on “the match.” Everybody wanted to see the game and tickets were changing hands at ridiculous prices. It is interesting to recall that at that time, Bobby Charlton was serving his National Service in the R.A.O.C. and as such, couldn’t get to the game. However, his Company Sergeant Major told him that he would have loved to have seen the game. Quick as flash, Bobby told him that he could get them both tickets if the Sergeant Major could get him the time off to go – the deal was done right away! They traveled together, and actually they both stood alongside the dug out at Maine Road for the duration of the game! What a memory for that Sergeant Major! The press were divided as to what United’s chances were – some thought that it was just a step too far for them, others thought that if United scored early, then they could indeed win the tie by the required margin and progress through to the semi-finals.

The Wednesday came, and it is a night imprinted upon my memory forever. There are certain days, moments, in your life, that you never ever forget and recall with great clarity, irrespective of how long it may have been since that event happened. This is one of those days for me. Brian and I took our places on the Kippax side, on the small white wall that ran all around the lower part of the stadium. We were situated at the halfway line, facing the players tunnel which was across the pitch from where we stood. The ground filled rapidly once the gates had been opened, and although there was never any singing and chanting back then, there was an expectant drone, murmur, buzz, call it what you will, all around the ground. For 45 minutes before scheduled kick-off, the Beswick Prize Band tried to entertain everybody as the marched around the pitch numerous times. The clock ticked on towards 7:20p.m. and then there was movement over in the tunnel. We could see the two teams lining up inside ready to make their entrance out onto the pitch, walking side by side. The Bilbao skipper, Garay, was carrying a huge bouquet of flowers. We saw the referee and linesman take their places in front of the team, and then slowly, they began their march out onto the pitch. Roger Byrne leading out United as he always did, carrying the pennant that would be exchanged with the Bilbao skipper for his flowers! The roar that greeted the teams as they marched out from the tunnel and into view of everybody inside Maine Road, was like nothing that I had ever heard or have heard, before or since – it must have sent a shudder through the Spaniards. It’s been said that fans don’t score goals, but I believe on that night, they weren’t far from doing it. The Beswick Prize Band played the two anthems as the two teams stood side by side out on the far touchline in front of the main stand, and you could hear a pin drop – the Spanish one first, and then the home anthem, sang by the fans with enormous gusto, and once it had finished, as the band began to march off beneath the streaming floodlights, the crowd erupted once more. It was an experience that I was never to forget, and even today, when I think about it, the hairs on the back of my neck rise! It’s difficult to describe, but the roars that evening were incredible. They could be heard as far away at places like Moston, Ashton, Eccles, Sale, Stockport etc. My dad told me that he had stood on the steps out in the street in Chorlton on Medlock, worried to bits that I was there in such a huge crowd. He need have had no concerns. Again, the fans were controlled and disciplined.

United lined up at full strength; Wood; Foulkes, Byrne; Colman, Jones, Edwards; Berry, Whelan, Taylor, Viollet and Pegg. 70,000 persons were crammed into Maine Road, and as Tommy Taylor started the game by rolling the ball to Bill Whelan, their voices reached incredible proportions as they roared on United. It never seemed to stop. United attacked the Platt Lane End in the first half, and they went at the Spaniards from the kick off, but in all their excitement and exhuberance, were leaving themselves open to the counter attack. The noise and the urgings of the crowd must have played a role in this as everybody was urging them forward. After 10 minutes a thunderous roar rent the heavens apart as Dennis Viollet latched on to a knock down from Tommy Taylor and slid the ball home - all to no avail however as the linesman on the Kippax side had his flag in the air for offside. United were too frenetic in their attacks, and as one such attack broke down, the Spaniards broke. The Bilbao inside left broke free. Bill Foulkes was alert to the danger and had come inside to cover. He won the ball and sent a back pass to Ray Wood – unfortunately, “Cowboy” as he known then, underhit the back pass, and it slowed in the Maine Road mud. Deathly silence. The Bilbao attacker was after it like a flash and looked certain to win the race for the ball as Ray Wood catapulted through the area. Whether or not it was the sight of the big Geordie ‘keeper racing to meet him that put him off, or whether it was the crowd’s momentary deafening silence that distracted him as 70,000 people held their breath, I don’t know – but he suddenly bottled it, and pulled out of the race for the ball leaving big Ray to gather the ball safely, and another big roar rented the skies.

Big Duncan was all over the place working in tandem with Eddie Colman, and as the first half progressed they started to command the midfield. A clever ball from little Eddie Colman down the right hand side and inside the full back saw Johnny Berry go whizzing around him. Looking up, he spotted big Taylor drifting towards the penalty spot dragging Garay along with him. Instead of aiming for big Tommy, Berry drove the ball low and across the 6 yard line to find Viollet ghosting in from the left, and he made no mistake planting the ball beyond the outstretched hands of Carmello, the Bilbao ‘keeper. Once again, despite the deafening roars of the partisan crowd, United were denied by a linesman’s flag – and nobody could understand why! Was it going to be one of those nights when although United played the right game and did everything right, that little rub of the green was not going to go their way. The linesman’s parentage was certainly questioned by more than just a few fans! There was now a great fluidity in United’s play but the minutes were ticking away towards half time, and time was of the essence as each minute ticked away. Bill Foulkes put in a thundering tackle on the Bilbao left winger over on the far right hand side and down towards United’s goal line. He won the ball and quickly pulling himself up, he cleared the ball into space and down the right touchline into the Bilbao half of the field. Tommy Taylor began a diagonal run from the centre of the field and once again his shadow was Garay. Tommy was a big lad, with Adonnis like looks, but he was also very, very quick. As both of them chased the ball, Tommy feinted as though he was going to stop and hold the ball up, and this movement completely fooled the big Spanish centre half. He too slowed but in that split second, Taylor was away from him, gathering the ball and looking up. Berry had come in from his right wing and was haring in down the inside right Channel. Tommy drove forward towards the Bilbao area and goal line. As the Spanish defenders raced across to cover, he pulled the ball back and Berry made for the cross – at the last moment allowing the ball to run through his legs and there ghosting in behind him, was Dennis Viollet. Without checking his run he took the ball first time right footed and crashed it past Carmello and into the back of the net. No mistakes this time and no linesman’s flag to rule the goal out. The roar that went up split the heavens and Viollet was totally engulfed by his ecstatic United team mates – something that didn’t happen regularly with players after they had scored in those days – normally is was a quick handshake or a pat on the arse! The goal had come at the right time, just a few minutes before half time, and it took some of the steam out of the Spaniards. The whistle sounded for the break and as the players trudged off the field the applause never stopped until they were all out of sight down the tunnel.

On came the Beswick Prize Band to entertain the fans during the interval and they marched around the Maine Road pitch under the dark, pitch black night sky, playing tunes like “The Radetzsky March” “Blaze Away” “British Grenadiers” “Soldiers of the Queen” “Rule Britannia” and the crowd joining in and whistling the tunes as the band marched past. The smell of Oxo permeated the air around Brian and I as people opened their flasks, and got to work on their butties – most people had come to the game straight from their place of work. The half time break now brought an air of expectancy – one goal had been scored – one was needed to take the tie to a replay in Paris – and two more were needed to win the tie outright. United were playing really well, but let’s not forget the Spaniards – they too had also played well even though they had been given the benefit of the doubt on two occasions by a shortsighted linesman! Defensively they were quite tight, but as in today’s modern game, they had this ability to break from defence very quickly and on a number of occasions throughout that first half, they had threatened United’s goal. Another goal conceded and it would be a disaster for United, and whilst we were all in a rather euphoric state at half time, there was always that nagging fear that the Spaniards were good enough to score a goal.

The break in those days was only for 10 minutes and the players filed out from the tunnel once again. United were defending the Platt Lane end and attacking towards the old Scorebaord End. Little Johnny Berry came over to take his position at outside right, and as he stood waiting for the second half to get under way, there was more than enough vocal encouragement directed towards him. I can recall quite clearly, he turned towards us all and gave us the biggest smile and wink, and as the whistle went for the restart, he was back concentrating on the game.

From the off, the roars were unbelieveable again as the fans got right behind United and urged them forward. Calamity – inside the first few seconds of the second half, Eddie Colman got caught in possession, lost the ball, and a ball was played inside Bill Foulkes for the Bilbao right winger to run onto. He pushed the ball too far forward and once again, Ray Wood was off his line like a rocket. Unfortunately this time, the winger was a little too quick for him and managed to knock the ball past him. Agonisingly the ball was rolling towards the empty net and we all held baited breath! Suddenly there was a blur of arms and legs and a red flash as Roger Byrne appeared from nowhere and hacked the ball away to safety just as it was about to cross the line. He got up and I can recall him berating poor Eddie.

United once again dominated and wave after wave of attacks floundered on the rock that was the Bilbao defence. To say the fans were getting anxious was an understatement! The rorars however never ceased. The hour mark passed and United were still battering away. Taylor hit the bar with a glorious header, Berry hit the outside of an upright, Carmello made some stunning saves – once again it seemed as though the ball just wasn’t going to go into the Bilbao net. On 65 minutes a ball was fed out to David Pegg over on the far left touchline. He began one of his mazy runs, then checked and turned, and checked and turned again. It looked as though he was going to get hemmed in by defenders, but dragging the ball away and inside with his left foot, he managed to make half a yard of space and sent a cross whizzing into the penalty area around knee height. Taylor was moving like an express train and as Garay watched the ball coming towards him, big Tom was in before him and across him steering the ball home with his right boot. Main Road erupted in a cacophony of noise. Once again the scorer was engulfed by joyous team mates, but most importantly, the tie was now level. People, complete strangers, were hugging each other – caps and hats had been flung skyward into the cold dark night, and the euphoric joy that abounded throughout that stadium was just an incredible experience to behold.

25 minutes left – could United get that elusive third goal. One thing was for sure, it would not be without the encouragement of the fans, and the players endeavours. The ball was played around sublimely. Edwards was all over, urging, prompting, watching, defending. Little eddie was spreading the ball about like a maestro. The forwards were interchanging with so much telepathy and trying to drag defenders out of position. But the minutes kept ticking away until finally, we were down to the last five. To all intents and purposes, it looked as though the Spaniards were going to hold on and take the tie into a third game. They had begun to come more and more into the game during the last 15 minutes as the United player’s exertions began to take their toll and tiredness started to become a factor. They were defending the 18 yards area when a cross from the left was aimed in and Mark Jones towered above all and thundered a headed clearance away and out to the right hand side. For the umpteenth time that night, big Tommy was after it, followed by his shadow, Garay. He collected the ball just in front of Brian and I, on that half way line, turned, and there was Garay showing him the touchline. Tommy held the ball inviting the tackle, but garay was having none of it. The jockeyed each other down that touchline and Garay looked quite comfortable. Big Tom started to take the ball towards the big Spanish centre half, just about in line with the 18 yard line. He showed Garay the ball and then a quick dip of his left shoulder and movement towards the left and Garay pounced flying towards the ball. Alas, it wasn’t there! Tommy pulled the ball back onto his right foot and was away a yard. Looking up he released a cross of stunning quality aiming and landing the ball just on or around the penalty spot – normally the area where he himself would be. But of all the big lads United had, not one of them was there – instead, the smallest guy in United’s team, little Johnny Berry was haring in at full speed. He met the ball full on the volley with his right foot and crashed the ball into the back of the net – it sped in like the speed of a bullet. Maine Road really did erupt as did the United players. I’d never seen the big fells’ jump and cavort like he did at that moment, nor had I ever seen roger Byrne so emotional. Again caps and hats had gone up into the night sky and I can remember adults around me with tears streaming down their faces – tears of great happiness – a far cry from just what one more year would bring to us all. Busby and Murphy danced a jig along the far touchline. For the next 5 minutes United played keep ball, and really did frustrate the Spaniards, and then at, last as the thousands of whistles echoed around the ground, the game was finally over. People hugged and kissed each other and cried with joy. Our “babes” had met the challenge once again and they were now into the semi-final of this wonderful new competition.

The Spaniards took their defeat with great dignity. Handshakes and hugs for their conquerors – no laps of honour like there would be in today’s game – respect for the defeated. There was a banquet for both teams at The Midland Hotel in Manchester later that evening, and the respect both clubs showed for each other was reflected in the after dinner speeches. The Bilbao President and manager said during their speeches that the crowd had certainly played a significant part in their defeat. Jesus Garay the Spanish captain, said that on the night, this young United team were just too good for his seasoned mostly international team. He too, also said that the crowd had played a huge part in their defeat, saying that in all their years of playing football, they had never encountered noise like it, and that it took them a long time to settle into the game. He paid a great tribute to Tommy Taylor saying that he was the finest centre forward that he had ever played against – and that was some compliment believe me.

In my opinion, this game was Tommy Taylor’s finest ever performance for Manchester United. As I said earlier, he was a big lad – some 6’2” tall, but he had great skills. So comfortable on the ball with either foot, probably the best header of a football that I have ever seen – and I have never, ever, seen anybody head a ball so powerfully. He was exceptionally quick, and had terrific temperament. He took some fearful stick but just used to get up and get on with it. He had a smile as big as a barn door – especially whenever he scored a goal – it was where his nickname “The Smiling Executioner” came from. But that night against Bilbao at Maine Road, he led the line so ferociously, he pulled Garay all over the place, and whenever the defence was under pressure he was there to receive the ball from them and hold it up, and as well as scoring a terrific goal, he laid two others on for his team mates. Even now, all these years later, I can still see him, standing there smiling, looking like the good looking God that he was. Oh! that he was playing today, he would be bigger in marketing terms than anything that we have ever seen.

The fans danced on their way home that evenings We were all so delirious with happiness. The excitement of reaching a European Cup Semi-Final at the first attempt had already started to consume us all. Brian and I walked home along Lloyd Street towards Cambridge Street trying to imagine who would be United’s next opponents. The chatter around us as we walked that dimly lit street was all happy chatter. The pubs along the route were overflowing with customers trying to get their “last hour” in before closing time which in those days was 10:30p.m. We parted as usual at All Saints and I walked once again down Grosvenor Street and to my home in Royle Street, to find a lot of the neighbours sat on their front steps out in the street,, As I got half way up the street they all started cheering – it was as though I had won something personally. Dad was there sat on the steps of our terraced home, and he got up and gave me a great big hug. He had been so apprehensive about me being in that crowd – so much so that he had stayed out of the pub that night! He’d sat there listening to the roars emanating from Maine Road, worrying that I’d get crushed in such a huge mass. Mum was her usual calm self, feeding me and making sure that I bathed before I went to bed – tired, but very, very, happy.

6th February 1957 is there in my heart and mind forever; one of those occasions that can never be expunged. I have never experienced a match with such intensity or atmosphere since. Time certainly does not dim my memory of that night nor of the main characters who took leading roles in it. I look back with so much fondness on those days and it was part of my growing up into the “United Family”. It’s so different for the kids today as the Club has lost that community spirit. The players were so accessible, no airs and graces, and you felt that you were part of something very special – indeed, we were! I’m so glad that I was around at that time and that I can relate those times to you now. Sadly, in my opinion, and it hurts me to say this, times like that are now gone forever.

 

Don't get me wrong, even today, when I return to Old Trafford for Matches, I still get that same old buzz the morning of the match. Still get that same old feeling as I walk down Warwick Road - Sir Matt Busby Way and cross that old railway bridge and see the forecourt of the stadium. I am still ecstatic when United win and even more so if they have really played well and in the style that befits Manchester United teams. I am saddened that the club has become detached from the fans and the players even more distant. I suppose it's the march of time. What does get me down is seeing players forget where they came from, or begining to be big time charlies. I cringed today when I saw that young Richardson had bought himself a Bentley!

On another side, I have become a baseball fan since arriving here 8 years ago and love going down to Minute Maid Park. I also have ST's to the Houston Dynamo, and love going to games at Robertson - talking with all the young kids and their families etc. It really is a wonderful experience.

 

I think that it may well be on the dvd "History of Manchester United" although I am not certain. The copy that I have is a copy of a television program by Granada TV in England which was done for the 40th Anniversary of the tragedy in 1998. Up and until that point, I had read and heard about the goal but never actually seen any pictures of it. Somebody recorded the program and sent me a copy of it. There is a lot of wonderful footage of the "Babes" on it. I'll get in touch with Granada Television and see if there are any copies of it.