The Ned Wood Archive

1990-1993

We have a cat called Casey.  Actually, we have many cats.  They’re one of the things Mrs Ned collects.  Rescue cats.  Casey is, shall we say, a bit mixed up.  He‘s lying on the bed, you go over to stroke him, and one of two things will happen.  If he’s in a good mood, he’ll purr, roll over, and lovingly push his soft furry head against your palm.  If he’s in a bad mood, he’ll sink his stiletto-like claws deep into the back of your hand or into that fleshy part beneath your thumb and clamp his teeth onto one or more of your fingers.  

If the 1990s were an animal, they’d be Casey the Cat.

January 1st 1990.  For those of you who weren’t there, that’s when the 90s started.  January 1st 1990.  Liverpool at home.  We come back from 2-0 down to draw 2-2.  Harry Hodge and new boy Nigel Jemson are the star players.  Harry and Cloughie get the goals.  To be honest, it ain’t a bad result.  Liverpool are by far the best team in the country, although we often get the better of them at our place.   We do OK against Liverpool and the rest of the big five.  It’s the little eightyseven we don’t always do so well against.  

When folk used to talk about “The Big Five” back in those days, they meant the five clubs with the biggest wallets and the largest egos.  Liverpool, Everton, Spurs, Arsenal, and Man U.  In the 1980s, Liverpool won almost everything, with occasional interruptions from Everton and Arsenal, although Everton were on their way down by 1990.  Spurs had won nothing apart from a couple of FA Cups.  Same with Man U.  If you wanted to talk about a “Big Five” in terms of footballing success at the beginning of 1990, you had to include the Reds.  Top three finishes in ‘88 and ‘89, FA Cup semi-finalists in ‘88 and ‘89, and we’d won the League Cup again in ‘89.  Overall, across the three main competitions, I wouldn’t say we were the best team in the business, but we were in the top two.  I know.   I was there.  Maybe you’re the same as me.  We see things they’ll never see.  You and I are gonna live forever.  

However, the second half of the 89/90 season proves a good indication of what we are to expect in the 90s.  You know.  Strikes and gutters, ups and downs.  We fail to show up for the 3rd Round FA Cup tie against Man U on January 3rd, thereby saving Alex Ferguson’s career.  “Totally overrun in midfield” according to the match report, “…Harry Hodge can’t do it all on his own.”  Then we beat Derby at their place with a classic breakaway performance, Jemmo scoring his first goal for us; and then we knock Spurs out of the League Cup with a first class performance to earn ourselves a semi final tie.  “The quality of our football was just superb coming forward… All in all, it was a brilliant Forest performance.”

Transfer Windows haven’t been invented yet, but we’ve been busy over the winter.  We’ve sold our leading goal scorer, Lee Chapman, and bought a bloke called David Currie as his replacement.  To be honest, we don’t always make the best deals on the transfer market.  At the beginning of the season we sold key midfielder Neil Webb and replaced him with John Sheridan who played in a grand total of one League Cup game for us before being sold on in November.  David Currie will make four starts before being sold in August 1990.  Maybe we just bought him to partner Brian Rice.  Currie and Rice play just those handful of games together before the joke wears thin.

February 1990 sees us beat Palace and draw with Chelsea in the League and also sees a classic dour European Cup style victory over Coventry in the 2-legged League Cup Semi Final which means Yet Another Wembley Appearance.  Away baby, let’s go.  We’re gonna have a good time, we’re gonna have a party.  A fourth Wembley appearance in three years.  (Two League Cups, one Football League Centenary Tournament, and one Full Members Cup.  You better Google the last two.)  The League Cup semi final legs are scrappy defensive games, and we’re through thanks to a Stuart Pearce goal and a Nigel Clough penalty.

The team is fairly settled: Steve Sutton in goal; back four of Laws, Pearce, Chettle, and Walker; Hodge, Parker, and Crosby in midfield with one of Franz Carr, Brian Rice, or Toddi Orlygsson; plus the Nigels Clough & Jemson up front.  Toddi Orlygsson?  You better Google him.  Allegedly came from Iceland on a fishing trawler with a box of “fish” for the boss.

The week after cementing our trip to Wembley, we move up into third spot in the league with a one-nil win over Manchester City.  City aren’t much this season – they’ll flirt with relegation before having a good April and will finish in 14th place.  The game is a scrappy affair in which Steve Chettle gets his cheek broken.  However, it will be remembered for one hilarious moment in the second half.  You’ve seen it on YouTube.  Andy Dibble in the City goal collects a Garry Parker cross, cradles the ball in his right mitt, looks left and then right, and is about to kick upfield when wee Bing Crosby appears from behind a blade of grass to nod the ball out of Officer Dibble’s hand and tap it into the Bridgeford End goal.  Ever have that feeling where you’re not sure if you’re awake or still dreaming?¹

Was I talking about strikes & gutters and ups & downs earlier?  We get two points from our next 8 league games and drop to 11th.  We are rubbish.  Starting at home against Coventry the week after the Man City game, we manage to go 4-0 down before making the score a little bit more respectable.  Going 4-0 down to Coventry?  That sort of stuff only happens once in a lifetime.  We lose 4-0 at Everton.  Cloughie, interviewed on TV after the game compares our performance to a bunch of flowers².  

Before the League Cup Final, we beat Luton 2-0 at home, then lose at Southampton.  Could we BE any more inconsistent?  The final is against Oldham.  They’re no mugs: they’ve beaten Leeds, Arsenal, Southampton, and West Ham to get to Wembley and they’ve just missed out on the FA Cup Final after taking Man U to a replay in the semi.  And their fans are determined to enjoy the day, no matter what.  They chat with us outside Wembley and ask us what’s gone wrong with our season!  So we beat them 1-0 in a poor game thanks to Jemmo’s second half goal.  The trophy in the bag, we finish the season in style, beating Man U 4-0 at our place.  4-0 up after 25 minutes, we sit back and relax, job done.  You take the red pill, you stay in Wonderland.  A last day victory at Hillsborough sees us finish 9th and sees Wednesday relegated.

Ninth!  It’s disappointing.  We are capable of beating the best teams in the league and we’re capable of losing to the worst.  But, it’s always been like that.  To be honest, the difference between us and the league winning sides is that we don’t take advantage of the weaker opposition.  We play fancy football, but we don’t have enough bite.  Harry Hodge and Des Walker are players of the season.  With a bit more fire, a bit more consistency up front, and a bit more solidity at the back, we’ll compete for the title next year.

But we always say that.

Anyway, we’ve got the World Cup in Italy to look forward to.  Eight Trickies are in the 22 man Forest squad.  That’s right.  Eight past, present, or future reds are on the plane to Italy.  Go on, try and name them all before the end of the 92/93 season³.  It’s a dismal tournament.  People can remember Gazza’s tears and the skipper’s penalty,  but that’s about it.  Even though England are inches away from winning the whole thing!  Certainly inches away from beating Germany in extra time in the semi.  But the whole event is poor.  No goals, no football, just turgid defensive rubbish.  England stumble out of their group having scored twice in three games.  Belgium in the next round is no better – the only goal of the game coming in the last minute of extra time when David Platt hooks in Gascoigne’s free kick.  Hey Platty: Let’s all meet up in the year 2000.  Won’t it be strange?

We play Cameroon in the quarter finals.  The Oldhams of the World Cup.  Everyone’s favourites.  They’re 2-1 up until they give away a silly penalty with 10 minutes to go.  Lineker scores to take it to extra time and then scores another penalty to put England in the semi against Germany.  We all know what happens next.  Gascoigne, daft as a brush, but with a natural football brain provides the spark and England start to play some good football.  But, brains’ll only get you so far and luck always runs out.

And so, after a short break, the 1990/91 season begins.  Big Norm takes over the keeper’s jersey, but the rest of the team is more or less the same: Laws, Pearce, Chettle, & Walker in defence; Hodge, Parker, Crosby and one other in midfield; Clough and Jemson up front.  No big signings over the summer.  Ian Woan and Ray Charles will break into the side towards the end of the season; however, there is another player we’ve picked up who is about to make a massive impression.  After a disappointing home draw against QPR, we travel to Anfield midweek.  Stuart Pearce is out injured and there are starts for Phil Starbuck and Brett Williams.  We lose 2-0, but all of the attention is on a young lad playing on the right side of midfield.  

Roy Keane had played the last 10 minutes for the reserves the night before and had set up the equaliser in our 3-3 draw against Rotherham reserves.  On the Tuesday, Brian Clough suggests he get on the coach for the trip to Liverpool, meet some of the players, and help the kit man out.  In the dressing room, as he’s laying out the shirts, Clough suggests he try on the number 7.  The rest of the team have a good laugh until Clough says: “It fits.  You’re playing.”  Clough asks right back Brian Laws to look after the newcomer.  Laws is nervous.  He has to mark John Barnes and protect the youngster.  He needn’t have worried.  In the first five minutes, Keane has kicked Barnes a couple of times and has told him exactly where to go⁴.  After that, Roy the Boy, as he was known, keeps his place all year and is excellent in almost every game.  

In September 1990, Dave Grohl joins a couple of dudes from the Pacific Northwest and helps them become one of the biggest acts in music by perfecting their take on the Pixies’ quiet/loud musical style.  Mrs Ned’s family lived in Nirvana country for most of their lives: Olympia in Washington state.  We go over to see them every so often.  We’d drive up Mount Rainier and visit Snoqualmie before it was known as Twin Peaks; we’d drive down Sleater-Kinney when it was a road, not a band; and we’d drive round the Olympic Peninsula when it was famous for cranberries rather than grunge.  We never bumped into Cobain, Novoselic, or Grohl, but you could see what inspired their music.  The breathtaking, desolate peaks in the Cascades; the wild, active volcano at Mount St Helens; the soft, beautiful green of the forest; the cold, blue calm of the lakes.  This up/down hard/soft dichotomy of the Washington state scenery reimagined as quiet, melodic, whispered tunes contrasted with rough, loud, heavy, shouted noise.  

If the 1990s were a sound, it would be Nirvana’s Pixie-like grunge.

Forest as a whole are pretty average that September: a win, two draws, and a defeat before we head over to Old Trafford.  The skipper’s been getting a lot of flak from opposition fans since his penalty in the World Cup semi final shoot-out.  Old Trafford is no different, singing “Who missed in Italy? Stuart Pearce, Stuart Pearce.”  There are two things you can do when things go wrong.  You can hide away and lick your wounds.  Or you can come out fighting and prove yourself.  When Forest get a free kick 35 yards out, only one thing is going to happen.  Psycho gives himself a long run up.  A very long run up.  Then hits the ball through the wall, through the keeper, and high into the net.  Another victory at  Man U,  “Who scored at Old Trafford? Stuart Pearce, Stuart Pearce.”  Someone to hear your prayers.  Someone who cares.

Then in October 1990 we lose one of Nottingham’s all time greats.  Peter Taylor dies suddenly on holiday on October 4th 1990.  

During the 2nd World War, a war-time league is played and Forest use it as an opportunity to bring on some promising local youngsters.  Peter Taylor, a 16 year-old Meadows lad is one of those.  He plays a couple of games in goal for Forest against Notts in 1945 but signs for Coventry on his 17th birthday.  Ten years later, spent mostly as reserve keeper, Taylor signs for Middlesbrough where Brian Clough is starting his career.  Over the next six years, the two form a close relationship before Clough moves to Sunderland and Taylor moves to Port Vale.  However, it isn’t long before the two are reunited at Hartlepool as manager and assistant manager.  They complemented each other perfectly.  Taylor the talent spotter, Clough the talent maker.  Clough would squeeze the best performance out of his players using every trick in the book.  Taylor would step in behind the scenes with a quiet word of encouragement or a sharply observed piece of motivation.  Clough would let his ego loose and go off in any direction.  Taylor would calm things down – he was the only person who could keep Clough in order.  Together they were magic.  Yet they fell out and didn’t speak to each other for seven years.

On the Sunday after Peter Taylor’s death we are playing Everton.  25,000 of us turn up to pay our respects to the great man, yet there is no mention of him on the day.  No minute’s silence or applause before the game.  Nothing.  It still feels wrong.

That autumn of 1990, we are fairly indifferent on the pitch.  We lose to Derby for the first time since 1979/80.  We lose at home to Spurs for the first time since 1989/90.  We are 11th.  Roy the Boy and Jemmo are playing well, but that old inconsistency issue keeps cropping up.  We’ve still got the League Cup to look forward to.  At the end of November, Nigel scores an eight minute hat-trick at the end of the first half of the fourth round tie at Coventry.  After half-time Garry Parker adds a fourth.  Only problem is Coventry were already 4-0 up after 34 minutes following some pretty diabolical defending.  Our inconsistency summed up in less than an hour.  And the second time this year we’ve gone 4-0 down to Coventry.  Kevin Gallacher also has a hat-trick.  He’ll have a scrap over the match ball with Nigel after the game.  Just as the Forest fans are chanting “Where’s your 4 four nil gone?”, Coventry score a fifth shortly after Garry Parker’s equaliser to go in front again.  And that, despite a glorious chance for Jemmo, is the end of the goal scoring. A mad game and a first League Cup defeat since October 1987.  To quote the report: “This game really did sum up much that is wonderful about being a Trickie.”   

If the 1990s were a League Cup tie, they’d be Coventry City v Nottingham Forest, 28/11/1990.

We have another marathon tie in the third round of the FA Cup at the start of 1991.  The first game away at Crystal Palace finishes 0-0.  Palace are a rough side which means Phil Starbuck and Gary Crosby aren’t effective.  The replay at the City Ground gets postponed due to water flowing in from the Trent, then postponed again due to ice blowing in from the Trent.  The replay finally gets played on Monday 21st and finishes 2-2.  Palace take the lead after Dessie sets up Ian Wright (!).  Cloughie hits the bar with an overhead kick.  Terry Wilson equalises to take the game into extra time.  Skipper breaks down the right (!!), plays a one-two with Harry Hodge and finishes to put us ahead.  Keano scores to make it 3-1 but the ref blows up to award a free kick to Forest for a foul on Steve Hodge (!!!).  Right at the end of extra time, Keano plays a weak back pass to Norm who has to run out of his area to boot it up field; however it falls to John Salako who punts it over Norm’s head into the Trent End goal for 2-2.  Brian Clough waits for Keane in the dressing room and decks him as soon as he walks in the door.  “Don’t ever pass the ball back to my goalkeeper, young man”.

The good news is that we win the toss to allow us to choose where the 2nd replay will be played.  The bad news is that it gets postponed due to Mist Rolling In from the Trent.  Finally, at the sixth time of asking, we put the game to bed.  Six games is usually enough to win the Cup.  Maybe it’s our year.  We win 3-0 (Parker 2, Crosby).  With both substitutes used, Cloughie brings off Harry Hodge and we play the last 5 minutes of the game with 10 men to rub Palace’s noses in it.  Perhaps a little premature because we lose to them at home in the league five days later.

For the next couple of months we are very consistent.  In a manner of speaking.  We go through a patch where we don’t lose once in the cup and we don’t win once in the league.  After nine league games without a win, we drop to 14th.  Fortunately there are teams as bad as we are and we pick up wins at home against Sheffield United and Derby.  Derby will be relegated with 24 points which is not the lowest total number of points they will achieve in the top division.  Hasta la vista, baby.  In the FA Cup, we beat Newcastle and Southampton in replays and then beat Norwich in the quarter final at Carrow Road with a Keane goal.  It’s an excellent defensive display, but all the news is about Roy’s circus tricks after he’s scored.  

April 14th is Cup Semi Final day and it’s all about Paul Gascoigne.  Arsenal play Paul Gascoigne’s Spurs at Wembley and there’s another game at Villa Park.  Arsenal, on course for the double, are defeated single handedly by Paul Gascoigne.  That game kicks off before the other game, so we travelling trickies can listen to it on the way to Villa Park and become heartily sick of the name Paul Gascoigne before we kick off.  We know we’ll be playing Paul Gascoigne’s Spurs if we win.

At Villa Park, West Ham’s Tony Gale is sent off for a professional foul on Bing Crosby after 25 minutes.  At half time, with the score 0-0, Brain Clough explains that 11 men can beat 10 men if they simply pass the ball around the opposition, on the ground, to feet.  Forest do precisely that.  There’s only one way of life and that’s your own.  Bing and Keano score the first two.  The skipper bags one with his right foot.  Not to be outdone, right back Gary Charles scores with his left.  Cloughie leaves the dug out early so he can have a nice soak in the bath.  Ladies and gentlemen, we are floating in space.  And we’re on for our annual trip to Stanmore.

Suddenly everything clicks.  Forest start playing the sort of football you only dream about.  Like Brazil in 1970 or Forest in 1978 or Holland in 1974.  We are magic on the pitch.  Vintage Forest.  Shiny happy people holding hands.  Precise, quick balls fizzed about cutting the opposition to ribbons.  Chelsea are trounced 7(seven) – 0(nil).  “An exhibition of vintage Forest passing.”  Norwich are humbled 5-0.  Liverpool are cast aside to give Arsenal the title and we sing “You’re not champions any more”.  Leeds are dismissed in our last game before the Cup Final.  The only break in the sequence is a 1-1 draw at White Hart Lane in a cagey affair that sees neither side wanting to give too much away.  The team now features Ian Woan and Ray Charles.  More of a surprise is that Lee Glover is playing up front instead of Jemmo.  That’s strange.  He’s been playing well.  He must have fallen out with Cloughie.  We’re winning, so we don’t complain.  Psycho is player of the year, closely followed by Roy the Boy, and Steve Hodge.  We’ve hauled ourselves up to finish 8th, 2 places and 5 points ahead of Spurs as we head into Cup Final weekend.

Yup, it’s all about Paul Gascoigne again.  He commits a terrible foul but referee Roger Milford lets him off without a card.  Karma police: arrest this man.  Daniel Taylor in the Athletic recently called it “a studs-up, chest-high assault on Nottingham Forest’s Garry Parker that could conceivably still qualify as the worst challenge ever seen in an FA Cup final.”  After 15 minutes, Gascoigne does it again, this time lunging at Ray Charles.  And if you tolerate this, your children will be next.  No card this time either.

Stuart Pearce scores from the free kick and we should be one our way to victory, but we don’t play well enough that day.  The fluency from the last run of games has gone.  We create chances but don’t take advantage.  Big Norm gives away a penalty but, just like Dave Beasant 3 years earlier, Norm saves the spot kick.  It doesn’t help.  Public Enemy No.1, Paul Stewart equalises in the second half and Paul Gascoigne’s Spurs win it in extra time, thanks to a Des Walker own goal.  It isn’t pleasant for those of us living in North London as every Spurs fan in the country drives past the house that night blaring their horns.

Where did it go wrong?  Was the side with newcomers Ian Woan, Roy Keane, Lee Glover, and Gary Charles too inexperienced?  Should the older players have stepped up?  Was Ian Woan a lazy scouse git?  Should Bing have taken his chance?  Should the manager have used his significant powers of motivation to work some magic before extra time?  Were baggy shorts in fashion now?  Truth is we just weren’t good enough on the day.  Gascoigne or no Gascoigne, Tottenham were the better team.

Meanwhile, off the pitch, the big five of English football are planning nefarious deeds.  They don’t think they are getting enough money from football on TV (which is shared across all 92 football league clubs) so they decide to break away to form a super league.  They persuade the rest of the first division to join them and, in July 1991, all of the first division clubs sign up to this new-fangled money grabbing super league they’ve dreamed up.  Your scientists were so preoccupied with whether or not they could, they didn’t stop to think if they should.

We fans don’t know this at the time.  We’re just hoping that the coming season is going to be more successful.  We’ve got the core of the team still with us: Psycho, Dessie, and Nigel.  It looks like Roy the Boy is going to be a star.  Players like Norm, Woany, and Ray Charles divide opinion, but they’re all getting better.  Steve Hodge has been sold, which is a massive blow.  He was in and out of the team the previous season, but he always gave everything for us.  Franz Carr and Brian Rice have also moved on.  Scot Gemmill has made a handful of appearances, mostly off the bench and he’s one for the future.  We’ve signed a centre back, Carl Tiler from Barnsley so he and Big Norm should be able to understand each other.  We’ve also signed winger Kingsley Black after about five years of rumour, but the big news is record signing Teddy Sheringham from Millwall.  Now we’ve got a real striker!  Now we’ll challenge at the top of the league!  Let me tell you something my friend. Hope is a dangerous thing. Hope can drive a man insane.

We start the season with Tiler and Walker at the back alongside Ray Charles and the skipper, but Des gets injured in the first game and is replaced by Chett for the next 6 weeks.  Carl Tiler is also someone who will divide opinion but he starts his career with us playing well.  Scot Gemmill starts alongside Keano in midfield.  He’ll struggle to begin with, but will keep his place for the whole season.  Jemmo plays, but out on the left, and loses his place after a few games with either Kingsley Black or Ian Woan coming in.  Jemmo will soon be sold to the Nottingham Forest Ex-players Retirement Centre in Sheffield where he’ll team up with Trevor Francis, Viv Anderson, Danny Wilson, John Sheridan, and Chris Woods.  Up front, Ted hasn’t bedded in with our style, but he’s an intelligent footballer and soon learns.

However, it’s the same old Forest.  Hit and miss.  We beat Everton with Jemmo getting the winner, lose to Leeds, beat Notts 4-0 at Meadow Lane in what is their last season in the top tier, Teddy Sheringham getting his first goal for us.  Spurs turn up at the City Ground and we know how this is going.  We always beat Spurs at their place and we always lose to them at ours.  We also know that Public Enemy Number 1, Paul Stewart, will kick Roy Keane all over the pitch.  After one particularly gruesome foul, the skipper asks referee Vic Callow whether he wouldn’t mind being a little more strict with the Spurs midfield, please, if it isn’t too much trouble.  Callow sends him off.

More hits and misses follow.  We beat Oldham, lose to Man City and newly promoted Sheffield Wednesday, beat Wimbledon, and lose to Villa.  Some days we play well, some days we don’t.  Some days we tackle and try to compete, some days we don’t.  We’ve developed this style where we try and walk the ball into the net.  It looks good when it comes off, but we need a Plan B.  We seem to have no bottle and roll over too easily.  The one exception is Roy Keane who just gets better and better.  Most players are good with their feet.  Some players also have an excellent footballing brain.  Others have a good engine and get by with energy.  Some players are all heart and drive the team forward.  Keane has all of these.  We’re not worthy!  We’re not worthy! 

October 1991 is another mixed month which we spend in the bottom half of the table.  While the greed merchants behind the premier league are plotting with TV companies over money, we are arguing amongst ourselves over whether to defend or not.  We win at QPR.  We lose at Sheffield United.  Carl Tiler is sent off for allowing Alan Shearer to dive in a dismal game against Southampton.  After a goalless draw at Carrow Road, we’re 17th.  17th!  A point behind Notts!  For some reason, Garry Parker is sold to Villa. 

Things get better in November and December as we pick up a few wins, including a rare home win against Arsenal (“a game that reinforced all the cliches about Forest as the world’s most entertaining football team”).  Arsenal are just like Spurs, we usually win at their place but lose to them at the City Ground.  We’re also progressing nicely in the cups.  Having won the replay at Southampton, we’re through to the last eight of the League Cup and, having beaten Tranmere, we’re through to the semi final of the Full Members Cup.  Don’t mock it.  It’ll be a collectors item one day.

Christmas 1991.  It’s a tradition for me Dad to get a massive variety tin of chocs.  You know the sort: Celebrations or Quality Street.  Folk soon spotted that he always bought himself a tin so it soon became an easy idea for them to give him as a present.  So we’d sit in front of the TV over the holiday and he’d share them out.  Celebrations were good – I never saw what the problem with Bountys was, I’d enjoy any of them.  Same with Quality Street – loads of toffees and nutty caramels.  Stuff you could get your teeth into.  Black Magic were pretty good too: more nuts, fudge, and butterscotch.  Cadbury’s Roses were the ones I didn’t like.  Too many weak fluffy cream centres: strawberry or orange or coffee.  Turkish delight too.   No thanks.  They had a couple of hazelnut options, but more than half of the tin was dross.  Trouble was, Dad wouldn’t offer the tin round to let you choose, he’d just shout “Catch” and throw you a sweet he’d picked at random.  You never knew what you were going to get.  

If the 1990s were a Christmas chocolate variety selection, they’d be a tin of Roses.  

Another tradition is the Boxing Day game.  This year we are away at Spurs, which means two more traditions: 1: we win and 2: Roy Keane gets kicked all over the park.  Clough and Pearce get the goals.  Paul Stewart does the kicking.  You are a sad, strange little man, and you have my pity.  After one particularly gruesome foul, our leader, Nigel Clough goes over to Paul Stewart and eats his liver with some fava beans and a nice chianti.  Best thing for him, really. His therapy was going nowhere.  Referee Ray Bigger sends Clough off.

And so to 1992.  January 1st 1992.  We’re playing bottom club Luton at home.  However, Steve Sutton, on loan from Forest, is playing in goal for them.  We can see how this is going, can’t we?  The match report refers to “the appallingly inept performance served up by the men in red”.  Luton scored after 30 seconds and then sat back and let Forest struggle.  Steve Sutton had no opportunities to show us what we were missing until, right at the end, a long ball out from Psycho is prodded on by Teddy and wallopped into the top corner by none other than Des Walker.  This is the first time Dessie has ever been sighted crossing the half way line and no one has yet been able to work out how he managed to get himself ahead of Teddy Sheringham.  You’ve always been crazy, this is just the first chance you’ve had to express yourself.  The previous 89 minutes are quickly forgotten and there is much schadenfreude at the expense of all of those who left early and all of those who skipped the game.  In a career lasting 407 years and over 6580 games, Dessie only scored one goal.  If you’ve read Issue 10 of Trevor Francis Tracksuits, you’ll know it’s a record bettered only by left back Geoff Thomas in the 40s and 50s⁵.  (No, not that Geoff Thomas!⁶)

January and February see us continue our soft-centred orange cream emulation in the league as we go seven without a win and slip back down to 15th.  We’re much tougher nuts in the cups, beating Wolves, Hereford, and Bristol City in the FA Cup to put us into the quarter final.  We also beat Crystal Palace in the League Cup (thanks to a Sheringham hat trick), to put us into the semi final; and Leicester in the Noddy Cup (thanks to Darren Wassall’s only goal for the club) to put us into the final.  Tell me ma, me ma, we’re gonna be late for tea.  We’re going to Wemberly.  In other news, fanzine Forest Forever starts and all 20 first division clubs resign from the league effective at the start of the 92/93 season.  It has not yet been conclusively proved that these two events are entirely unconnected.

Forest fanzines began on April 2nd 1988 with the first issue of the fanzine Brian, written by Julie Pritchard, inspired by When Saturday Comes and Brian Rice’s goal against Arsenal.  Buy one and then I’m happy for the rest of the day, safe in the knowledge there will always be a bit of my heart devoted to it.  Brian was the first, then came the Tricky Tree, followed by Trent Times, Forest Forever, and a handful of others, some gone so quick you’d miss them if you blinked (or if we weren’t playing that weekend).  Fanzines were just fans talking.  Fanzines made us laugh. Fanzines were an ideal way for those of us mad about the Reds to devour even more text about the club: news, gossip, and scurrilous insults.  Fanzines were an opportunity for those of us even more mad about the club to write, rant, and fawn about the Forest.  Fanzines had favourites: Psycho, of course, Roy Keane until he left.  They also had scapegoats, and some players were both, the fanzines oscillating between worshipping and slating the same player: Norm for his excellent saves or his clumsy butter fingers; Ray Charles for his exhilarating forward runs or his fear-inducing backpasses.  Neil Webb for playing for us or not playing for us.  Fanzines were how we found out what happened at the games we missed.  Fanzines were how we heard even more unlikely rumours about who we were going to sign or sell.  Fanzines were how we heard about little gems like Steve Stone in the reserves.  Fanzines were rumours and lies and stories we made up.  There is truth, and there are lies, and art always tells the truth. Even when it’s lying.  Fanzines are art.  

The League Cup semi is against Paul Stewart’s Spurs.  In the first leg at the City Ground, a dodgy first half penalty given away by Darren Wassall is equalised by Teddy Sheringham in the second half.  We feel robbed because another two have been chalked off for offside; however, we know we always win at their place, so what’s the worry?  Arriving at White Hart Lane for the second leg three weeks later, we’re kept outside the ground for ages by the police.  We manage to get into a pub so we can shelter from the continuous torrential rain.  What we don’t know is that there’s been a bomb scare and, just like us, the Forest team are waiting outside too, trapped in the team coach.  Eventually we are let in and the game starts an hour late.

Ten minutes in, Scot Gemmill plays a one two with Lee Glover on the edge of the box, the ball breaks back to Glover who puts it away nicely.  Five minutes later Lineker gets his head on a cross to equalise.  Wass had a good game, winning a lot of tackles on the ground, but he lost Lineker for the goal.  The game itself is pretty even.  We’re playing some really nice passing football despite the dreadful conditions.  And though I know you can’t appreciate it, I’m only happy when it rains.  Spurs are trying to take advantage of our vulnerability to high balls.  Paul Stewart is behaving himself which gives us a bit more freedom.  It could be related to the fact that the referee is Joe Worrall.  From Forest fans there is a near-continuous chant of “Brian Clough’s Red and White Army.”  We have the better of the second half, but can’t score.  We have the better of extra time and we can score. In fact we score from a corner.  We never score from corners, but we do today.  A glitch in the Matrix.  It happens when they change something.  Roy Keane buries Bing’s corner and we get the win our performance deserves.  Tell me ma, me ma, to put the champagne on ice.  We’re going to Wembley twice.  

Less than a week later, we’re off to Portsmouth for our FA Cup quarter final.  The same 11 take the pitch.  Generally, Clough picks the same side game after game, only making changes when he has to.  Half of the team picks itself: the skipper and Dessie at the back; Nigel and Roy.  The other centre half position is currently held by Darren Wassall who is a tough tackler in the Pearce & Laws mode rather than a strong header like Tiler or Chettle or a speedster like Ray or Des.  The right back position is shared between Brian Laws and Ray Charles.  Charles is fast and reads the game, like Des.  Clough doesn’t always seem to pick the player to match the opposition.  He prefers to think that any of his players can play anywhere.  Well Nigel and Roy can.  Nigel is playing mainly left of midfield when we have Sheringham and Glover up front.  However, the midfield four can be fairly flexible – especially Nigel and Roy who appear to have licence to roam anywhere.    

Portsmouth have got this pretentious youngster on the right wing that everyone’s talking about.  Darren Anderton.  Will go on to play 30 times for England.  The first time he gets the ball, Psycho clatters him by the corner flag just by way of saying hello.  The cross from the free kick is a simple one for Big Norm to catch, but he hasn’t woken up yet so he drops it onto the feet of a Portsmouth forward who instinctively knocks it over the line for 1-0.  We’re not worried.  We’re playing good football.  We’re on top.  The goal will soon come.  

But it doesn’t.  We dominate the rest of the first half, but don’t make too many chances.  The second half ticks by and Portsmouth are happy to defend their lead.  Centre half Steve Chettle comes on for centre forward Teddy Sheringham.  Not an obvious switch.  Things are getting strange, I’m starting to worry.  This could be a case for Mulder and Scully.  Then Brain Laws is sent off for a two-footed challenge – the sort that is guaranteed a red card nowadays, but usually only earned a yellow back then.  Now we know why Chett’s on the pitch – he can fit in at right back.  A Portsmouth defender goes straight through Nigel from behind but only earns a yellow.  That’s when we know it ain’t going to be our day.  We have to stay behind afterwards and watch Portsmouth fans invade the pitch and celebrate all evening.

And then we find out that, before the Portsmouth game, Norm was being a naughty boy.  He got himself arrested in Barnsley in connection with some breaking glass.  He gets dropped and Andy Marriott takes over in goal.  The rest of March is pretty good for us.  Ray Charles is back for Brian Laws.  Kingsley Black is back for Lee Glover.  Four wins on the trot without conceding, and then the first of that year’s trips to Wembley for the Noddy Cup against Southampton.  2-0 up, pulled back to 2-2, then win it in extra time.  Nigel is kicked left right and centre.  Gemmill and Black have good games and score the goals.  Swing low sweet Marriott is good in goal.  The downside is that the skipper is injured and that’s the end of his season.  I’ve got my “Psycho’s Annual Trip to Wembley” t-shirt ready for the League Cup Final and he won’t be playing.

So Brett Williams plays in the League Cup Final against Man U.  Andy Marriott also plays.  Is this going to be like 1978 when Chris Woods came in for Peter Shilton and played a blinder in the League Cup final?  It’s our 6th game in 14 days.  Ray Charles plays alongside Walker and Wassall but has to come off midway through the first half.  It’s a fairly even game.  You can’t blame Williams or Marriott for the goal – Giggs running through the middle setting up Brian McClair, but you have to say we are far less effective going forward on the left without the skipper.  No-one makes those rampaging runs into the opposition half quite like Stuart Pearce.  Except maybe Roy Keane.  We can’t pull one back.  Too many passes go astray.  Not enough bite or invention up front.  Man U happy to defend.  The game finishes 1-0 to United. 

We finish the season with our usual inconsistency, beating Man U and Villa who are above us but losing to West Ham and Luton who get relegated.  Our centre back pairing against Villa is Clough and Keane and they are outstanding.  We finish 8th again.  Des, Psycho, and Roy are players of the year.  Ted is top scorer.  Scot Gemmill is young player of the year.  Darren Wassall has made a strong impression in his few starts.  Build on that backbone and we’ll do well next year.

Dessie, Psycho, and Nigel are off to Sweden for Euro 92.  Nigel doesn’t get a game but the Skipper and Dessie play all of England’s games.  I bet they wish they hadn’t.  We are dismal.  Two goalless draws and a defeat to Sweden sees us bottom of our group.  A grand total of one goal scored.  Lineker’s last game for England sees him pulled off after 60 minutes.  That just about sums up our attacking threat.  Denmark beat Germany in the final.  Denmark!  

Have you ever watched the 1966 World Cup Final on youtube⁷?  One of the things you’ll notice is how quickly the goalkeepers get rid of the ball.  Like it’s too hot to handle.  Now watch the 1992 Euros Final⁸.  Once Denmark get their noses in front, all they do is pass the ball back to Schmeichel.  Schmeichel picks it up and rolls it to a teammate who passes it back.  Schemichel picks it up again, rolls it to a teammate and so on forever.  This is what it was like watching Liverpool back then too.  

There was something in the laws to stop goalkeepers timewasting; however, the application of it was gradually relaxed by referees over the years.  But it was sometimes applied.  Just before this article starts, in November 1989, Forest are struggling to beat Everton at home in the League Cup.  Neville Southall saves everything we can throw at him.  Everton are timewasting, of course, and about 5 minutes from the end of the game, Southall is penalised for holding on to the ball for too long.  Indirect free kick to us in their area.  Nigel passes to Lee Chapman who scores.  One-nil.  We’re on our way to Wembley.  Everton trash their changing room at the City Ground.  Bad plan, cos they’re playing us in the League 4 days later and Cloughie makes sure it isn’t any cleaner when they return.

Anyway, back to the other timewasting scousers.  To stop the Liverpools and Schmeichels of the world, the back pass law is introduced in July 1992.  In fact, it isn’t a new law, just the addition of a simple paragraph to Law 12.  If a player deliberately kicks the ball to the keeper, the keeper can’t touch it with his hands.  Simple, but the immediate effect on the game is negative.  After a few games played over the summer, the international board need to apply a few tweeks, mainly to stop players using tricks to circumvent the law.  Like kneeling down to head the ball back.  Or flicking it up in the air and chesting it back.

There are a lot of objections to the law when the league starts in England.  Keepers panic when the ball comes near them and just kick it straight out of play.  With the ball flying through the air in any direction, all games look like Wimbledon v Crystal Palace.  Intelligent punters rant against the law in the press and less intelligent punters like me rant against it in the fanzines.  However, it’s obvious now that the change eventually had a significant effect in improving the game.  A lucrative avenue for time wasting has been cut off.  The balance between attack and defence has been shifted to favour the attack.  Goalkeepers have become much better ball players.  I was wrong.  I feel stupid.  And contagious.

The 1992/93 season starts in August.  There are significant changes on and off the pitch in addition to the law change.  The Premier League has been created.  I still think that was a bad idea.  The clubs have agreed by a majority of 14-6 to sell the game to Sky (then known as BSkyB).  I think that was a bad idea too.  Naturally Forest will play in the first Sky Premier League game.  We’ve said goodbye to the Colwick Road End, the open kop end of the ground for hardy souls and away fans.  It’s been replaced by the Bridgford Stand, lop-sided to allow a bit of light to reach the residents behind.  The acoustics are great which is why we put the away fans there.  Another bad idea.

Off the pitch, we’ve sold the centre of our defence.  All the flowers that you planted, mama, in the backyard, all died when you went away.  We’d known Des wanted to try his luck abroad so we’d been expecting him to leave.  It was a surprise to see Darren Wassall go after he’d made such a good impression.  We all love Chett.  He’s a good, solid, loyal Red, but he needs someone strong and confident to play alongside.  Terry Wilson or Carl Tiler aren’t in the same league as Dessie.  (Literally, because Des has gone to Sven-Goran Eriksson’s Sampdoria where he’ll play at full back for a year and then come back to the UK.)

We outplay Liverpool at home in our first game.  Keano, Clough, and Gemmill dominate.  Ted scores.  1-0.  Maybe we’ll do OK despite the defence this season if we score enough.

A few days later we sell Teddy Sheringham to Spurs.  Will you please tell Santa that instead of presents this year, I just want my family back.  The replacement is 32 year old Gary Bannister.  I’m not impressed.  You can’t expect to survive in the Premier League if you sell your defence and your attack.  I hope anybody’s not stupid enough to do that again.  (Spoiler alert.  We do it again in the Summer of 1998.)  We lose to Wednesday.  We lose 5-3 to Oldham after going 5-0 down after an hour.  We lose at home to Man U.  We lose to Norwich, lose to Blackburn, lose to Wednesday again.  We are bottom of the league.  Watch your life slide out of view.  The defence is rubbish.  We can’t score.  Psycho is off form, there are rumours of a disagreement with the manager.  Only Roy is playing well, so Cloughie plays him at centre half.  There are Clough out letters in the Football Post.  

October is no better.  Lose to Arsenal, pick up a second league win at home to Middlesbrough, and then lose to Ipswich and Everton (“Forest played like a side destined for the drop.”).  Then Neil Webb returns.  To be honest, there isn’t much excitement about this.  We need a centre back and a forward, not a midfielder.  Webby hasn’t been too popular on Trentside since he defected to Man United and the World Wide Webb is a lot larger than when he left us.  But we’re wrong.  He makes a big difference.  He reminds us how to pass the ball.  Woany starts showing a work ethic.  Brian Laws is playing well.  And Roy is back in midfield.  This isn’t flying, this is falling with style.  We start picking up points.

However, before Webby plays, we’ve got the little matter of a League Cup game against Spurs.  Despite being pitiful in the league, we’ve managed to defeat Stockport and Crewe in the cup.  Now we are drawn against Spurs at home.  Sheringham is playing up front for them.  We think we know how this is going to go.  We take the lead in the first half when Nigel sets up Ian Woan who waltzes round the keeper and finishes with his standing foot.  We still think we know how this is going to go.  We always play well against Spurs at home, score first, and then concede at least twice.  Not so this time.  We’re by far the better side.  Nigel sets up Roy Keane who doesn’t bother to waltz round the keeper and just wellies it into the top right corner from the D.  If we can play like this for the rest of the season, we can get into Europe.

The fun continues at Leeds, the following Saturday.  Neil Webb starts and pulls the strings.  He plays in the skipper who sets up Nigel for the first.  He plays in Roy who scores the second.  Kingsley Black immediately adds a third, and then Webby repeats his party trick for Roy to score the fourth.  Leeds grab one in the last 5 minutes, but 4-1 at Elland Road will do for us.  The rest of December isn’t so good.  Villa are second but we push them all the way at Villa Park and are unlucky to lose 2-1.  Same at White Hart Lane where we lose to a last minute Spurs goal after Psycho has hit the bar.  However, January sees us beating Coventry, Chelsea, and Oldham to take us off the bottom.  On the flip side, we’re knocked out of the League Cup at Highbury 2-0.  Arsenal will go on to beat Wednesday in the final.

February is a mixed month.  Wins against Middlesbrough and QPR take us out of the relegation places, but the skipper and Webby are injured and will miss the rest of the season.  Brian Laws is playing well as are Clough, Keane and Woan.  Nigel has taken on a Beckenbauer-like role: playing out from the back.  As soon as we’ve notched up a win or two, that old feeling of deja vu returns as our inconsistency resurfaces.  Keane is suspended and we lose 3-0 to Everton and 3-0 at home to Norwich and we’re back in the mire.  We’re knocked out of the FA Cup at Highbury 2-0.  Arsenal will go on to beat Wednesday in the final.  Deja vu all over again.  The crowd oscillates between defiance and gallows humour…  “que sera sera, we’re going to Shrewsbury …”  Yeah?  I can’t see anyone else smiling in here.  The match report for the game at Goodison says it “was possibly the greatest performance I’ve ever witnessed in all my time following the trees – unfortunately it came not from the players but from the fans in the away end”.

One obvious problem is up front.  Gary Bannister shouldn’t take all of the blame – he scores 8 in 30 league games this season, but he needs help.  Forest are linked with a young Andy Cole but he goes to Newcastle for twice what we’re prepared to pay.  Forest are linked with a young Stan Collymore, but we wait until July and watch his price go up.  Then it’s announced that we’ve signed legendary Brazilian forward Romario.  It turns out to be a typo.  Romario will sign for Barcelona and be voted most valuable player at the 94 World Cup.  Forest have signed Rosario, Coventry’s 4 goal a season striker.  Sometimes the only sane answer to an insane world is insanity.  He’ll play 10 times for us and score once.

The last eight games of the season are almost all dismal.  We get a point at Highbury (Roy scoring and badge kissing) and beat Spurs, but we lose the other six.  The agony goes on.  “Wayward passing, aimless running, and insufficient inventiveness.”  That’s me in the corner.  That’s me in the spot-light.  Losing my religion.  Relegation is confirmed at our last home game against Sheffield United.  We finish on 40 points, but we’d have needed 50 to stay up that year.

The overwhelming emotion that I felt at the end of the 1992/3 season was one of sadness.  Sad for Brain Clough.  ‘Cause it’s a bittersweet symphony, that’s life.  Sad that his managerial career had to end in failure.  Sad that he hadn’t won the Cup in 1991 and then quit.  Sad that he hadn’t won the League Cup in 1992 and then quit.  Sad that he hadn’t quit after beating Liverpool at the beginning of the season.  Even that would have been appropriate.  

Brian Clough was a giant.  Strong-willed.  Inspiring.  Visionary.  Unique.  He had the drive to win and the force of character to bend reality the way he wanted it to bend.  In the end, that power faded and he was as mortal as the rest of us.  In this life, nothing lasts forever.  Enjoy it while you can.  Live through the bad and celebrate the good.  Before every game, we celebrate Brian Clough’s words.  All around the ground, we celebrate his trophies.  And, on our shirts, above the tree, we celebrate his greatest achievements.  The ones he won with his best mate.  Munich and Madrid.  1979 and 1980.  Two stars for Europe: Brian Clough and Peter Taylor.

[Match report quotes from Brain and the Tricky Tree.]

With a little help from

• The Dude from The Big Lebowski (Coen Brothers, 1998)
• Neo from The Matrix (Lana & Lilly Wachowski, 1999)
• Morpheus from The Matrix
• Trinity from The Matrix
• Chandler from Friends (David Crane and Marta Kauffman, 1994 onwards)
• Hal from Thelma & Louise (Ridley Scott, 1991)
• Louise from Thelma & Louise
• Arnie from Terminator 2 (James Cameron, 1991)
• Jeff Goldblum from Jurassic Park (Steven Spielberg, 1993)
• Morgan Freeman from the Shawshank Redemtion (Frank Darabont, 1994)
• Wayne & Garth from Wayne’s World (Penelope Spheeris, 1992)
• Buzz Lightyear from Toy Story (Pixar, 1995)
• Anthony Hopkins in the Silence of the Lambs (Jonathan Demme, 1991)
• John Malkovich in Being John Malkovich (Spike Jonze, 1999)
• Macaulay Culkin in Home Alone (Chris Columbus, 1990)
• Buzz Lightyear from Toy Story again (Pixar, 1995)
• David Duchovny in the X Files (Season 3, Episode 7) (John Shiban, 1995)

1. CONTROVERSIAL GOAL: Gary Crosby v Man City
   Gary Crosby: ‘Sir Alex Ferguson called and told me what a mistake I’d made’ | Burton Albion | The Guardian ↩︎
2. Having just seen his Forest side get hammered 4-0 by Everton, Brian Clough gives one of his classic post-match interviews in 1990. And makes ITV reporter Gary Newbon blush in the process. Reminds me of our current team today | Everton FC | Facebook ↩︎
3. Peter Shilton , Stuart Pearce, Neil Webb, Des Walker, Chris Woods, David Platt, Steve Hodge, Dave Beasant ↩︎
4. https://talksport.com/football/1064773/roy-keane-nottingham-forest-liverpool-debut-man-utd/ ↩︎
5. The City Ground ↩︎
6. The City Ground ↩︎
7. England v West Germany | 1966 FIFA World Cup Final | Final Replay ’66 ↩︎
8. Euros 1992 Final Full Match: Denmark vs. Germany (2-0) ↩︎