• In the run-up to the 30th anniversary of Forest’s European Cup triumph of 1979, Gary Roe recounts the epic journey of the Annesley Reds to the Olympiastadion. (Read the whole series and other memories here.)

The season was over for most, but our adventures were just about to begin. We had to get to Munich and it wasn’t like it was a car trip there and back in a day. Official trips were being advertised from £70 to £400. We had endured the train journey to Cologne and didn’t fancy the idea. A few days would be OK, get there in good time and not have to rush, so after our last Sunday League game for Annesley WAFC I parked my football bag in the corner and we had an Extraordinary Annesley Reds meeting. All eyes looked towards Stephen ‘Ruben’ Beardsley.

Rube, Nobby, Cumbo, Kenny, Teada, Steve Walker, Pip and me – the Annesley Reds. We had the use of a possible three cars without having to hire one. Cumbo had a brown Ford Capri, Pip had a fairly new Ford Escort and Rube had his dads Austin Maxi. Don Beardsley often trusted son Steven (Rube) with his car for away trips, but did he realise how far this trip was?

We decided to work out the most comfortable way of getting to Munich at a ‘basement bargain’ price. No, I am lying; all of the onus was on Rube and Rube’s Travels Inc. which would now become Rube’s International Travel. You have to have a leader and we nominated Rube as our leader.

Using his company’s telephone he found us a hotel in the middle of Munich – I bet his boss scrutinised all West German deals that quarterly phone bill. We got a price for bed and breakfast for around £5-a-night in Deutschmarks. He booked us in for four nights, Monday to Friday and now all we had to do was get European Insurance for the cars, some green headlamp covers (I thought they were to show everyone that you’d driven abroad, but they were to divert the beams), a reflective triangle which was compulsory and then tickets to get across the Channel and a route through France to Germany. The idea behind this plan was for poor old Rube to do it all and we would just turn up on the day with our money and passports, plus the all-important Cup Final tickets!

Yes, we were now billed as ‘Nottingham Forest – European Finalists’, and it was good to hear. We had no trouble buying tickets for the final even though around 20,000 were expected to make the trip. Think back to ’74 when I was persuaded by our leader to have a season ticket. “You never know when you want a cup final ticket,” he said. And a European Cup Final sure fits the bill.

We queued up on the day of ticket sales for season ticket-holders and the excitement just inching around Trent side toward the Main Stand was electric. This was history in the making. I still had the gremlins at the back of my mind saying, We could lose you know! Oh please, if there is a God… Roey don’t be an idiot! If Clough and Taylor heard you talking like this you’d have to do ten laps round the football pitch as punishment, or even worse, go and watch Notts County.

The itinerary was made and no one dare argue with it as none of us the brain to organise it. Hotel £5-a-night for four nights, Monday through Friday, a fiver (11 dm) for the match ticket, cheap I thought. Car insurance and AA cover plus bits and bobs and Channel crossing, toll costs and petrol another £30. We were looking at £55 then you had to buy food and ale. The cheapest rail journeys without hotels cost nearly as much. Rube’s International Travel leads the way.

It seemed like the whole of Nottingham was going to Munich by cars, trains, boats and planes. One lad, Tony Delaney who originated from London, decided he was going to hitchhike all the way there. Terry Hoole (from Newstead Pit) and his brother Ron were headed there on a motorbike.

Everything was going at 90mph and it soon came round to the Sunday before the final and both cars were packed and ready to go. Well, we’ve seen the Reds on foreign soil, witnessed them win the League and a couple of League Cups to boot. But this was something special, this was real history; I cast my mind back to the Joe Baker era, Matt Gillies disappointments, Second Division football and then the revival, enter Brian Clough. Cloughie had taken us from the nether regions to the pinnacle of Garibaldi Red achievements. Mind you, we hadn’t won it yet.

We held little fear of Malmo and to be honest I’ve never heard of them before the European Cup semi-finals. The hidden fear of failure wasn’t knocking in my subconscious now, all I could sense was victory; we could be Champs of Europe and that would make the whole country open its eyes to us. We would be on live TV if the Scousers wanted to watch. In honesty I always supported any British team, let alone English team on TV in Europe and hoped the nation would do the same.

Sunday morning we kissed our loved ones and even the girlfriend! As the Austin Maxi and Ford Escort kicked exhaust fumes out on Annesley Cutting and headed for the M1 for the first leg of our adventure. Five in the Maxi and four in the Escort and bugger me if Pip’s Ford Escort didn’t overheat on the motorway. The jokes went round that he’d never took the pristine metallic purple car out of Kirkby in Ashfield! The Maxi on the other hand was kind of an away match battle bus, although Mr Beardsley didn’t know. So some engineer among us said take the thermostat out or something. Well, whatever we did it worked and the journey continued. Our Annesley Reds consisted of four Colliers, two fitters and office worker Rube, but he knew how to cut coal with a trepanner and fire a Ripping Lip due to our Miners Welfare patter.

Our route was planned on a large map of Europe, our drivers were Pip and Cumbo in the Escort, Teada, Nobby and Rube in the Maxi. It was a bit squashed for a long trip but the adrenalin was flowing like a bath tap. Our itinerary took us to Folkestone for the Hovercraft and then it navigating through France and then Germany. By the time the first sandwiches were out, we were leaving the M1.

Continues here…

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