Loaded up with cans of beer and sandwiches, me and Bronc walked up to the Badger car park to see our bus ready to go. Whoa, the nerves were kicking in now. I feared, nay dreaded the famous Mersey giants Liverpool. Our lads were classed as Cloughie’s Wembley Virgins and Shilton, Needham and Gemmill were all sidelined due to being cup-tied.

This made me fear even more the experience of Clemence (England keeper) Neal, Thompson and Hughes (England regulars). Jimmy Case, McDermott and Heighway providing the service overlooked by the experience Ian Callaghan. Kevin Keegan’s replacement, goal scorer Kenny Dalglish. They had a substitute who made history in the famous grey jersey, David Fairclough who came on many times for Liverpool and scored vital goals, the first ‘super sub’.

They had a super sub and we had a ‘second team’ on the day, so Liverpool were firm favourites. That bit I liked as everyone likes to see an underdog come through.

The papers said that 17 trains and over 60 coaches were bound for the capital on March the 18th and we would merge with the Scousers on the M1 where the M6 joins. By this time the road nearly came to a standstill and the bladder was bulging. So it was time to nip off the bus and have a waz like hundreds of fans along the way. I don’t think the police were worried as long as fighting didn’t break out. The Forest buses all decked out in the flags and scarves as well as the odd banner which proved amusing, for example:

‘Robbo lays on more balls than Joan Collins’

‘Woods makes history and Liverpool’s misery’

‘Forest speak louder than Cloughie’

and our favourite:

‘Clough’s Reds Taylor Made for Wembley’

The nearer we got, the singing started but I couldn’t join in. It was as if I was picked to play. All that confidence I had in Forest which had built up over the season so far was in doubt. I thought the fairytale could end. I hoped we would bounce back. No, I’ve got to stop this negativity, they haven’t beaten us yet, have they? Come on you Red ’uns!

We pulled onto the bus North Circular and then turned toward the stadium, getting glimpses of the towers between the buildings. We didn’t give the Blackbirds pub a thought with such a crowd today, but we had a drink or two on the bus to get in the mood. Soon we were getting off the bus in the busy car park, mingling with the other fans trying to edge our way to the Forest end where we felt safe among our own. There was the odd loony from Merseyside who would venture onto side of the ground, one lad had the skinhead and every major trophy tattooed on his bald head. Very original and I wouldn’t have given much to his chances if any of the Mad Squad came around the corner. I think this cup final day put aggro out of a lot of our minds. It was a good thing really as there were more women and kids present than usual.

There was no loitering about, we wanted to get inside and soak up some of the atmosphere. That was our standing joke when we had crowds of 9,000 and now it was a dream come true.

There was some atmosphere all right. The Forest fans were in good voice and we soon joined in. My nerves had gone now as this was it. My dream realised (albeit the League Cup Final). The only doubt I had was for Chris Woods, the 18 year old farmer’s lad from Lincolnshire. I didn’t doubt his talent, but I thought Wembley with 100,000 screaming fans might scare him a bit. It used to scare me on Annesley Welfare with four men and a dog watching if I was through on goal.

Soon the players made an appearance, led out by the man Brian Clough! We wondered if Taylor and Clough would lead them out, but no it was just Brian; but there was a twist. As they got in full view, Cloughie stopped the proceedings and prompted the players to stop, turn and give us a wave. This threw the Liverpool team as they nonchalantly (up to that point) strolled. Then onward to meet the nobilities.

Formalities over, it was time for football. The game went on an even keel with Liverpool trying a slow build up and plenty of possession. Woods stopped everything they threw at him like a veteran. A couple of chances from Woodcock were foiled by the experienced Ray Clemence but he sure put the wind up Hughes and Smith. We lacked the grit and guile of Gemmill but Woods and Lloyd were more than capable to fill the other ‘cup tied’ roles. Anderson and Clark tackled and covered everything at the back with Lloyd and Burns looking solid as ever. The match ended up goalless and went into extra time.

Well 90 minutes and 0-0, so no matter what happened we had played a full game and not lost. A break before the extra time started and the trainers, mangers, etc, poured on to the field of play to refresh, coach and encourage. The only two missing were Clough and Taylor! They sent Jimmy Gordon on to see to the players. The Forest end fell silent except for the murmuring, ‘Cloughie and Taylor haven’t gone out there’.

We looked at each other and then, knowing Cloughie was a wily sod at times, must have thought he had done all he could and that would get them through. No bollickings, no sympathy or pats on the back (yet). It was up to the former ‘virgins’. Yes I say former, as the 90 minutes just played had proved it to themselves they could win.

The extra time was pretty much the same and either team could have won it, but after all that it ended up goalless. We had some satisfaction that we hadn’t been beaten at Wembley. Man of the Match in every form of the media was given to Chris Woods. Deep down now I thought we were the favourites for the replay at Old Trafford on the next Wednesday.

We filed out together with the Liverpool fans and trouble was bound to break out as both sets of coaches were in the Wembley car park. We had one lad missing, Nigel Cantrill. He wasn’t really old enough to be walking around the place and his older brother Paul (Joel) was getting worried. So a few of us experienced football fans went off the bus to find him. Just as we got to where the Forest busses ended and the Liverpool began, there was a bit of a stand-off between rival fans. My thoughts were Nigel was somewhere over the other side of the Liverpool busses and we had to venture through and around them. We had bought these Forest replica shirts for the match and couldn’t disguise ourselves in enemy territory.

The next thing we were diving out of the way of bricks and stuff being thrown by the Scousers. As we retreated then gingerly came back onto the battlefield, a larger contingent of us was present, including a few nutters; as the chant went, ‘We are the nutters, the nutters from Notts!’

Then an unexpected General gave the order as we were slowly backing off from another salvo of bricks. It was Bronc who gave the order to charge! And charge we did and the Scousers backed off this time, our lot had time to arm themselves with bricks and I wondered where this thing was going. I was scared that someone was going to get hurt big time from a cowardly brick thrower.

Then a Forest fan spots the poles that are used for the Sunday market stalls and makes it a weapon. So javelin like he launches it into the back window of a Liverpool coach. This was answered with another 50 or so Scousers joining in their ranks and we backed off a bit or there wouldn’t have been a bus window left. Police were on the scene making a divide and forcing us back, but little skirmishes were still going on. Then out of the blue (or rather Red) comes little Nidgey Cantrill unaware of the violence around him and walks through it all as if to say, ‘What’s everyone looking at?

Rube shouts over to get back to the bus and we all obeyed without protest. A long journey home and plenty of abuse slung at the Scouse busses on the road. Our passengers were pretty brave, cocooned on the bus at 50mph unlike general Bronc’s army on the battlefield. A couple of younger lads had been punched and kicked on the way out but it was really a matter of being a bit streetwise and we had learned enough from our away travels to know who was who.

So much for my Wembley dream. But the occasion was worth it and we hadn’t been beaten. Looks like we’ve got it all to do again.

• Read Gary’s account of the reply next week