In the 1966/67 season Forest are challenging for the league and a good cup run sees the young Gary Roe start dreaming of the double…

In November we went 13 matches without defeat. I saw this as no great thing, it was what I expected with the players we had. I remember waiting for the football results to come up on the telly at Martin Carey’s (my pal’s house) and we beat Everton 1-0 twice in three days over Christmas.

We had a great team by now and I wasn’t sure who was my greatest hero of the side, after Joe Baker of course. King Joe ruled the roost for me, our most expensive buy at £65 000 from Arsenal. He had some history as well. He was the first player to play for England while playing in the Scottish league. He also played in Italy for Turin. There weren’t many players did that, I could remember Dennis Law and Jimmy Greaves doing it and my granddad said John Charles or somebody from Leeds did.

So we went on chasing Manchester United, unfortunately they kept winning as well and even beat us at Old Trafford to end our unbeaten run. The team now picked itself as my dad used to say. We had a winger to replace Chris Crowe who left, he was Barry Lyons on the right wing.

The line up I remember towards the end of the season was:

1. Grummitt
2. Hindley
3. Winfield
6. Hennessey Capt.
5. McKinley
6. Newton
7. Lyons
8. Barnwell
9. The King
10. Wignall
11. Storey-Moore

I remember when we played Southampton, who for some reason I expected to turn out in the red and white stripes, they played in gold shirts black shorts. Terry Hennessey took the penalties and he missed. But we got another, which Ian Story-Moore put away perfectly. Ian Storey-Moore may have been better than the King himself, he could beat anyone down the wing, he would weave in and out of defenders as if they weren’t there. He played with his shirt out of his shorts and sleeves rolled up but only half way up his forearm, it was a trademark and I used to turn out the same when I was in full kit playing football at home. When I played with the big lads, I always had to be someone like Barry Lyons as I could never be the number 9 or 11, I was right footed so I couldn’t be Henry Newton or Frank Wignall. Every time I put on my boots, I pictured myself as a Forest player. I was going to turn out for Forest when I grew up, I was sure of it.

We were also having a good run in the FA Cup beating Plymouth and Newcastle at home and then Swindon after a three match (two replays) effort on a neutral ground. It got to the sixth round and I started to realise what it was all about. I had seen earlier FA Cup finals on TV and they were great stuff to watch, my first being West Ham United v Preston ’64.

Now we were only two rounds away from a place at Wembley. After the 3-match marathon against lowly Swindon Town we were determined to see the next tie against Everton the holders down here at the City Ground. It was to be an all-ticket game. This was new to me where you needed a ticket to get into the Trent End! Well I started to realise the importance of it and my dad said we would have to get down for some tickets.

We went early the Sunday morning they went on sale. I was over excited to be near the ground. The bad news was the queue was from the Main Stand ticket office right round the Bridgford Hotel and down to the Trent End. I had my fears, but knowing the ground could hold a 47500 crowd I prayed we would get a couple of tickets. The queue went at a snail’s pace and I started to panic, what if they run out and we’ve come down too late? It’s a good job my dad was with me; he didn’t seem to worry at all. I suppose when you work on a coalface in 2ft 10 inches height all week any nerves were gone for a collier. My dad always knew what to do so I put my trust in him as you do with dads.

When we got in sight of the ticket office I was envious of the folk walking, nay skipping away with cup tickets in hand. I looked again at my dad, as if to say ‘we came down too late’ but he made no expression, only lit another Park Drive plain cigarette and drew in smoke as if it were a half-time fag. Then! A steward came from the window area announcing as he marched up and down the crowd “Only adult tickets left at 6 shillings!”

That was it, I thought, I’m no going after all this. But before I could get downhearted my dad turned round and told me he would get me an adult ticket! Problem solved, why didn’t I think of that? It would cost my dad an extra three shillings but I think Cup Fever had taken over in our house and we were off to the Sixth Round v Everton.

We did eventually get to the ticket window and my dad pulled his wallet out off his back ‘sky rocket’ (as he called it); then folded two tickets back into the wallet. I wanted a personal bodyguard back to Kirkwhite Street where our car was parked and then the tickets locked in a vault until the day of the match. I was getting a paranoid and it was only the 6th round.

The big day finally came around and it was a classic. The opposition were the cup holders and well known for coming from behind as they did in the 1966 FA Cup final v Sheffield Wednesday. I wasn’t scared of Everton really because we had beaten them twice so far this season.

Come the big day I had to play out the game with my own football kicking it into my dad’s garage doors. It went Forest 3 Everton 0, a Joe Baker hat-trick. Unfortunately the FA wouldn’t accept that, nor would the Merseysiders.

The game was a classic and with plenty of incidents. I don’t think anyone could have written a script like that. A packed house, the noisy Trent End in full volume and to our left on the East Stand terrace, a large following from Merseyside. I stood just in front of my dad now I had grown up a bit from the days of being thrust down to the wall. He told me some bad news just before the kick off. He always considered it bad luck to see a cross-eyed person. There was a woman who lived on our street who when my dad clapped eyes on her, he would always say that it wasn’t worth putting the Tote on at Annesley Miners Welfare club ‘cos she had jinxed him.

Well when the game got underway I had forgotten about my Dads superstitions now. It was the perfect example of ‘cup tie’ football. The league positions didn’t count for anything because Everton came at us and got a goal from Jimmy Husband. I was more concerned about World Cup winner’s Alan Ball and Ray Wilson. The 1-0 deficit didn’t worry me too much, but when Brian Labone, Everton’s big centre-half chopped the King down and he was carried off, what would we do without Joe Baker leading the attack? He could open up the defence easily, but what if he doesn’t come back on? Well the inevitable did happen and Alan Hinton (a winger) came on as substitute. What kind of reshuffle would happen? Well Ian Storey-Moore moved into the middle and had a free role.

I didn’t like what was happening and I thought my whole world was going to fall apart when Husband cracked another shot at us in the second half. Grummitt made a brilliant save to keep us in it.

Well even without The King, Forest seemed to lift their game, especially when Moore slammed home the equaliser. The whole Forest crowd went wild, what an atmosphere, it was fantastic. I believed we could win now and then as if my prayers had been answered Ian Storey-Moore got us in the lead. Now 2-1 up against the holders, who could take this game away from us? I began to think of the double. Can you believe it, the double! And I have only been supporting Forest for a couple of years! But before we knew it Husband got a second, then it was anybody’s game.

I remembered the ‘cross eye’ theory and took a worried look on. Some great and passionate football being played at a very fast pace. Just when I started to think, ‘Will my dad go to the replay?’ Ian Moore went on the rampage. He was fast and skilful and determined to get us ahead. He got a shot in that rebounded back from Wilson then had a second chance as the ball came back for a scoring chance, second attempt wouldn’t go in either. Goalie Andy Rankin with his ‘Beatle style’ hair cut stopped the shot. Then the ball bounced up for Moore to head toward goal and he hit the cross bar! Before I had time to put my hands on my head in amazement the ball came straight back to Moore to head home, uproar.

We went absolutely wild, it’s got to be the winner by now. My dad almost lost his new top set of false teeth. Just as the header seemed to take ages to eventually go in the net I turned to see my dad catching his top set of teeth and grabbing them just before they would have got crushed underfoot of the celebrating throng.

This killed off Everton, they didn’t have it in them after such a tense and frantic second half to make a fight back. When the whistle went the players were drained. Hennessey and the Reds heavy legged celebrated with what energy they had left and the Evertonians exhaustedly exited the pitch.

The semi’s, wow, Forest in a semi0final and standing second in the league. This is what football is about. I couldn’t wait to see the highlights on Match of the Day and read tomorrows’ paper. All the way home it seemed a dream. I thought, this is our year. I knew from all my books about all the teams who had been to Wembley and won the cup. With the holders out of the way we could go on and do the same; on the day I could not see this Forest team ever getting beaten. We did it without Joe Baker as well, wait until he comes back, whoever we get in the semi-final.

• More Forest Chronicles next week.