Now young man, settle down and let old Brown Nose tell you all about it.
That 4-4 match was the only league game in two and a half months that we scored in. In my youthful exuberance, I went to all matches home and away throughout. For some reason, I have better recall of them than I do a game from last month.
I think you could best describe the spirit in the kop or the respective away ends as detached menace. These were the days of 'Shipman Out' and routine violence. We saw off the twattish Hamilton during this particular run and ushered in David Pleat to much excitement. His first game was home to Bournemouth on Boxing Day and he was supposed to be 'observing' only. However, such was our ineptitude in the first half, he swept into the dressing room at half time and took control. We lost 0-1. It was a putrid time, although I remember thoroughly enjoying the away trips without the slightest expectation of anything on the pitch. I reckon the away trip to Oxford in the FA Cup was an all time great away day, including the sight of a worse for wear fan climbing up the floodlight mid match and throwing himself off into the throng below. We had our fun wherever we could get it.
Our terrace hero in these days of slim pickings was Jari Rantanen. A colossus who couldn't play football to save his life but he was Finnish and needed very big shorts so he was alright by us.
Come back next week for more tales of yesteryear.