Simon Knott revels in Cambridge's revitalisation at The Den
In the late 1980s Cambridge United were a bottom division club, regularly put out of the FA Cup by non-League sides.
Throughout these years, their underachievement was so consistent you could stand up a spoon in it. Even the County Challenge Cup had been wrested from their grasp, a feat of unparalleled incompetence. Against that background, reaching the 4th round of the FA Cup to play a First Division side was nothing short of wonderful.
Manager Chris Turner had stepped down on the night of the previous round’s replay at Darlington. He was replaced by his quietly spoken assistant. In the bottom division, this is usually a veteran of the club now enjoying a quiet life in the reserves, occasionally helping out with training. With nothing to lose, he only has to not make things worse to get the job on a permanent basis. In 1990, consolidating United’s mid-table placing of the previous season would have been enough. His name was John Beck.
So, to 27th January 1990. Because the Den was so open, with the stand roofs set back from the pitch, the 14,500 there that day did not seem the threat they normally would to a side used to playing in front of crowds a quarter the size. The Millwall team were physically strong, but we also had players who could put themselves about a bit. It wasn’t long before Liam Daish and Phil Chapple were stamping their, er, mark on the game.
In the dressing room before the game, Beck ducked his players under a cold shower, for the benefit of reporters. This was something the team had done all season, but a legend was born. Reports in the Monday nationals would speak of a “pushing and shoving psyching-up” session, of a final shout to the team “Let’s go to war”. And out there on the field, they played with a commitment we hadn’t seen in a United team since Ron Atkinson’s Fourth Division Championship-winning side of the Seventies.
Just before half-time Millwall scored. But Beck’s half-time talk was inspirational. In front of reporters, he told the team: “You have been magnificent. Do what you have to do, so that you do the same again.” No doubt there was more pushing and psyching up. And of course, United went straight out and equalized.
At the final whistle, the Millwall rose in ovation for our lads. We were to become used to this over the next couple of years, but that afternoon it was breathtaking, as unexpected as it was deserved. And, of course, we joined in.
On a murky night three days later, United beat Millwall in the replay by an own goal in the last minute of extra-time. This match is described at some length in Bill Buford’s Among the Thugs. Not the prettiest of company for a game to keep, but United come out of the book better than almost any other team. This is not without reason, I think. Our ensuing ride to Wembley for the play-offs, two FA Cup Quarter-Finals and the very edge of the Premier League, happened at a time when the fanzine movement was at its height, and when football after Hillsborough was reaching appalling heights of trendiness in the wake of England’s performance in the 1990 World Cup.
That afternoon at Millwall was the first time the media terriers got their teeth into Cambridge United’s coat tails, and they wouldn’t let go until they achieved Beck’s dismissal at the back end of 1992. Yes, it would end in tears, but most things do, eventually. Beck would sow the seeds of his own destruction, and as we won away at Ipswich to go top of what is now called the First Division, and as we thrilled to Daish, Chapple, Dion Dublin, Steve Claridge, Alan Kimble, Neil Heaney and the rest, I think we knew it couldn’t last forever. But I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.
In 1997, Cambridge United are a bottom-division club, put out of the FA Cup by a non-League side.
From WSC 123 May 1997. What was happening this month