Why I became a football fan

Like many others, I was bitten by the football bug at a young age, six to be exact. My dad would go to watch his beloved Chelsea play home and away most Saturday’s during the eighties, and unlike today the blues would usually lose every week to teams such as Shrewsbury (oh how times have changed). I was first taken to the Bridge by my dad in the nineties, where I was able to see magical players such as Zola, Vialli and Gullit turn Chelsea from a distinctly average team, into the most attractive side in the country. Despite the various honours that Chelsea have won in recent years, including back to back league titles, the period between 1997-2003 is where I hold my fondest memories. The brand of football and the players that we had at the club captivated me, and as a result made me fall in love with the game. However, there was one moment, or one game rather, that even when I think about it now gives me goose bumps.

The 1999/2000 season was a monumental year in the history of Chelsea Football Club. The blues had reached the promise land of the Champions League for the first time in 95 years of existence, and many thought that we would crash and burn. However Gianluca Vialli’s men proved the pessimists wrong, overcoming the likes of AC Milan, Galatasary, Feyenoord and Marseille among others on their way to the quarter finals. However, Chelsea were facing none other than Spanish giants FC Barcelona in the quarter finals, a challenge that no one envied.

It was the 5th April 2000, and it was a fairly crisp night in South West London. Prior to setting off for the Bridge to see the biggest game in Chelsea’s history; me, my dad and my elder brother David went to the pub to meet some of my dad’s mates. But instead of sinking a nice pint of Strongbow like I would today, I had to settle for a cold glass of coke instead. I remember standing outside the pub, feeling the ice cold coke tingle my dry lips and looking up at the fiery red sky and thinking that tonight would be a special night. Many people at Stamford Bridge that night, including myself, were just happy to have got this far in the competition and we did not expect to get a result, after all Barcelona boasted the attacking talents of Luis Figo, Rivaldo and Patrick Kluivert. But happily, our pessimism did not come to fruition.

Many people talk about the electric atmosphere that Anfield generates on the big European nights, but the noise our fans generated at Stamford Bridge that night was something special. Neither before or since have I heard such a ferocious caldron of noise in one place. Our Catalonian counterparts started fairly brightly though, world player of the year winner Rivaldo twice being denied by the agile Ed De Goey. However, it was our brilliant little Italian, Gianfranco Zola, who sprinkled some magic dust on this simmering European tie. After Luis Figo scythed down Celestine Babayaro outside the box, Zola curled a delightful shot into the top corner sending me and the other 35,000 Chelsea fans delirious. But there was more to come. The magnificent Zola and our midfield enforcer Didier Deschemps both provided the ammunition for our Norwegian striker, Tore Andre Flo, to fire twice past the hapless Ruud Hesp. Chelsea were 3-0 up against the mighty Barcelona before half time, nobody could believe it. The Chelsea fans were in dreamland, and the atmosphere in the second half was akin to a carnival. Barcelona did pull a goal back late on through Luis Figo, giving them a crucial away goal to take back to the Nou camp. But in truth, no Chelsea fan cared one little bit. We had embarrassed Barcelona, making them look distinctly average for large periods of the game.

The second leg a fortnight later at the Nou Camp did end in victory for Barcelona. The Blues were all of five minutes away from reaching the Champions League semi finals after Flo put Chelsea 4-3 in front on aggregate (2-1 down in the game itself), but a Dani header rescued the Catalonian giants and sent the game into extra time. But after Babayaro was sent off in the early stages of extra time, the blues stood little chance of progressing, eventually crashing to a 5-1 defeat.

Barcelona’s quality did shine through at the Nou Camp, but nevertheless, I was proud to be a Chelsea fan because of what happened in the first leg and the efforts that our players put into the match. That incredible night at Stamford Bridge is a moment in time that I still cherish to this day, and it typifies why I love football.