Concluding our detailed look at Wolves’ triumphant participation in the inaugural Texaco Cup 40 seasons ago……on May 14, we looked in detail at how Bill McGarry’s men became expert travellers in reaching the competition’s last four. Now, we reflect on the semi-finals and final.

In what was described as a ‘wistful’ glance back at the Texaco Cup, Wolves fanatic Jim Heath referred to the competition in a When Saturday Comes article a decade ago as ‘a kind of British Isles Cup for also-rans.’

He also said it heralded the game’s modernisation, with corporate sponsorship being cautiously welcomed in the form of the £100,000 the oil giant sunk into the venture.

Whatever the commercial repercussions, Wolves were enjoying themselves in it as they cruised through to the last four during a 1970-71 season in which they would also savour their highest League finish (fourth in the top flight) of the last 50 years.

The opening two rounds had taken McGarry’s men across the Scottish border. Now, the draw for the semi-final handed them a December 1 trip to Northern Ireland that was high on curiosity value.

Wolves' players on arrival in Northern Ireland 40 years ago.

There was also some apprehension in the ranks in light of the escalating unrest in the province that had put question marks over the tie with Derry City actually being played. 

Derry were having to play some of their domestic games away from their Brandywell ground in the heart of Bogside and a major security operation was staged as Wolves set off following a three-game win-less run in the League.

“Belfast was a scary place to stay in those days,” recalled utility man Les Wilson. “I remember barbed wire fencing all over the streets, with soldiers and police on corners. To say it felt nervy and dangerous would be an understatement.

“I was Derek Dougan’s room-mate on the trip and was assured, along with the rest of the ‘Tea Set,’ that we would be okay if we stayed with him.  About 9.30pm, Derek, John Holsgrove, Waggy, myself and others were thinking about going out for a stroll before our usual tea and biscuits.

“Thank God we thought hard and long about going out at this hour of the night.  All of a sudden, there was a massive bomb explosion just up the road from our hotel.  It shook me and the rest of the lads but didn’t disturb Derek in the least. He still slept like a baby!”

Texaco Cup ties were largely played in the same weeks as those in the major European competitions, this particular game kicking off in the early afternoon at a venue fringed by a dog track.

Derry billed the occasion – the first competitive fixture they had ever played against an English club – as the biggest game in their history. Several businesses brought their half-day closing forward from Thursday to Tuesday, so employees could be present, and factories let staff leave early.

'The biggest game in Derry history.'

More than 10,000 crammed into a ramshackle stadium, with some perched precariously on the roof of a rickety stand. And there was the extra variable of a shocking pitch. Heavy rain had left the surface so treacherous that Derry’s manager Jimmy Hill (no relation) apologised to the Express & Star’s Phil Morgan for Wolves having to play on it.

Even arriving there in time proved a problem to the visitors. “The bus driver got lost in the slow-moving traffic and we were repeatedly stopped at checkpoints, Wilson added.

“Soldiers with guns came aboard to check everyone and we only made it with a few minutes to spare before kick-off. The 1-0 win was a great result under the circumstances and, as the Derry supporters invaded the field afterwards, one caught up with me and punched me in the face.

“I had a bloody nose and never was I so pleased to get into the friendly confines of our dressing room as that day. It was certainly a relief to get back to Wolverhampton with a victory.”

Bobby Gould took his goal tally in the competition to four with the decisive header past amateur keeper Irwyn McKibbin from John Richards’ right-wing cross eight minutes from time. It was one of the few occasions the forward escaped the clutches of his marker, a medical student called Ray White.

Even then, there was a scare at the other end as Frank Munro headed off the line following a corner but Wolves were delighted at planting a foot in the final.

Ironically, they had had to cope without The Doog because of a shoulder injury picked up playing for Northern Ireland. In addition, Mike Bailey, Dave Wagstaffe and Derek Parkin were also sidelined, the captaincy passing to the impressive Jimmy McCalliog.

If Wolves had encountered unusual problems in their away leg, Derry would have much the same to contend with a week later.

They were actually in Wolverhampton when the return was postponed on match day because of fears over power cuts. Consultations with the MEB had prompted the decision and it was three and a half months later that the game was finally played.

Wolves were in a useful vein of form at the time, having just followed a 2-0 home victory over West Ham by thrillingly winning 4-2 at Albion.

And they were hardly stretched by a Texaco assignment they won 4-0 on a sad Molineux occasion that coincided with the death of the club’s long-serving former secretary and general manager Jack Howley at his Wombourne home.

Jim McCalliog threatens Derry's goal at Molineux.

Parkin opened the scoring with a strong run and finish, then, after a long wait for the knock-out blow, Hugh Curran drove home from Wagstaffe’s half-cleared cross. Two centres by Bernard Shaw set up the final two goals in front of a healthy 15,784 crowd, Mike O’Grady and Gould finishing with a shot and header respectively.

Wolves had earned £7,000 for reaching the final and organisers were assured of the cross-border clash they wanted because Heart of Midlothian faced Motherwell in the other semi.

Hearts, having overcome a 3-1 deficit to beat Burnley in the first round, had gone on to oust Airdrie 7-3 before edging out Motherwell by the odd goal.

Perhaps the high spirits of their journey ran away with them, though, because Wolves’ visit to Tynecastle was made all-ticket, with the police setting a 44,000 capacity.

In the event, just over 26,000 turned up on the Wednesday night of April 14, 1971, two days after Wolves had won at Everton and four after they had lost at Manchester United.

Bailey shrugged off a back problem to take his place but Shaw’s absence for the first time since September meant Gerry Taylor returned to a side who trained at Hibernian’s Easter Road home while their opponents were bedding in at a training camp at Peebles in the border country.

And Hearts’ more relaxed build-up was reflected in the brisk start that brought them a seventh minute lead as centre-forward Don Ford headed in a Jim Townsend centre that deflected off John McAlle.

Trouble brews for 'Lofty' Parkes at Tynecastle as Hearts' goal flies past him off the head of Don Ford.

The equaliser came in the 17th minute, though, when Wagstaffe beat two players and set Bailey up for a fine shot, then Glaswegian Hugh Curran pounced on good approach work by O’Grady to score just before and just past the half-hour.

Wolves had once more produced their best form on their travels, the only down-side to their 3-1 victory being bookings to Curran, Bailey and O’Grady by a 6ft 4in referee known as ‘Tiny’ Wharton.

There had still been enough in Hearts’ response, notably when Phil Parkes touched a shot by George Fleming on to the post, to suggest that the second leg nearly three weeks later was not a formality.

And the Scots’ manager Bobby Smith, who had made a special scouting trip to the West Midlands, showed he still meant business by having his players training over May Day weekend at Castlecroft after signing off their season with a big win over Cowdenbeath.

Wolves, at the time, were clinching their UEFA Cup spot by beating Burnley, Steve Kindon and all, but emphasised their liking for the Texaco Cup by saying they would still relish the chance to play in it in 1971-72 if they had some silverware to defend.

The front cover of the programme for the Wolves v Hearts return in the West Midlands.

Curran was left out in favour of Gould after failing to score in the last two League matches and it was just as well that Munro was outstanding at Molineux despite Fleming’s 25th minute strike that left the outcome in doubt.

Dougan and O’Grady went close to an equaliser but Wolves had to keep their wits about them to preserve the 3-2 aggregate lead that made them the tournament’s first winners.

Once again, the Molineux leg had been anti-climactic but the unofficial title of British Isles champions was not to be sniffed at.

Wolves were on their travels again the next day – for a friendly in Israel – while Hearts departed on tour of the United States.

Footballers seemed more happy to spread their wings in those days, even if it was sometimes on trips for which passports were not required.

Forty years ago this month, Wolves were crowned as the inaugural winners of the Texaco Cup. Here, we take a detailed look at their progress, with part two of our lengthy report to follow shortly.

It didn’t have the glamour of the following season’s campaign – and certainly not the same reach – but Wolves’ winning crusade in one of football’s long-neglected competitions might just have been a leg-up to UEFA Cup success.

By popping up to Scotland and over to Northern Ireland, their players became more familiar not only with travelling and living together, but also with the two-leg combat that was largely alien to them.

Wolves hadn’t played home-and-away ties since their early European days in the late 1950s and early 1960s, so the advent of a tournament initially known as the Texaco British Isles Cup presented a new challenge to Bill McGarry’s squad; not least in terms of volume of games.

It didn’t seem to matter to football’s administrators that top-flight clubs were already playing 42 League fixtures, plus as many in the unsponsored FA Cup and League Cup as their progress demanded.

The sport was hungry to expand, so 16 sides (six from England, six from Scotland and four from Ireland) entered a tournament sponsored by Texaco to the tune of £100,000 to help promote the American petrol giant’s recent purchase of the Regent filling station chain.

The net was spread across high-ranking clubs who hadn’t qualified for Europe, with Albion, Burnley, Nottingham Forest, Stoke, Tottenham and Wolves as participants from England, Airdrieonians, Dunfermline, Dundee, Hearts, Morton and Motherwell joining from Scotland and Ards, Derry City, Limerick and Shamrock Rovers from Ireland.

McGarry’s men had started to find some form by the time their opening assignment took them to Dundee in mid-September, slowly turning round their fortunes following an opening run of three League defeats.

They were still flaky enough to lose at Oxford in the League Cup but had won well at Ipswich at the start of September and built on that with draws against Stoke and Chelsea, the latter at Stamford Bridge in Kenny Hibbitt’s first senior start.

And the first trip across the border was particularly eventful for Hibbitt and Frank Munro.

Frank Munro (right) in action for Scotland Youths.

The latter didn’t even make it to Tayside before being hit by misfortune. With his team-mates sat on the coach waiting to go training at Hearts’ Tynecastle ground, he became stuck for 20 minutes in the lift at the team’s Edinburgh hotel.

“It was a bit scary,” Munro said. “I began shouting for help and eventually somebody realised what was wrong and sent for the engineer.”

The match was a special one for the defender. He was from Broughty Ferry, near Dundee, and had hit the winning goal against Wolves’ opponents on his debut for Dundee United.

He had his work cut out on this occasion to quell the threat of a side whose manager John Prentice had talked of building a big lead as insurance for the second leg.

In the event, it was Wolves who swept into a two-goal lead but they had to withstand waves of pressure as Dundee – past semi-finalists in both the European Cup and Fairs Cup – battled to preserve their unbeaten home record in external cup competitionss.

Bobby Gould, recalled for injury victim Hugh Curran on a night when Dave Wagstaffe was sidelined and replaced by Paul Walker, needed only two minutes to drive in the opener right-footed from Phil Parkes’ long kick.

And Jim McCalliog lashed in a left-foot beauty from 25 yards for the second when Derek Dougan fed him six minutes before half-time.

Wolves had Kevin Charlton on their bench due to the rule that stated that goalkeeper substitutions could be made but Parkes was to play throughout their campaign, beating out a Jimmy Wilson free-kick in the build-up to Dundee’s goal – a header by Gordon Wallace – just before the break.

No-one felt the visitors’ discomfort under pressure more than the impressive Hibbitt, who was playing the first of his 108 cup games for the club. He was knocked out when striker Jocky Scott fell on him while he cleared for a corner in the last minute. The midfielder came round in the dressing room afterwards but was sporting a smile as well as ten stitches in his head when pictured in the Express & Star the next day in the interesting combination of collar and tie and fetching Basil Fawlty head bandage.

After the 2-1 win north of the border came high-scoring League victories over Huddersfield and Burnley that confirmed Wolves’ dramatic upturn in form and pointed to a stroll in the second leg. The reality, though, was somewhat different.

Bobby Gould is shut out as Wolves find Dundee anything but a piece of cake at Molineux. Photo from the Wolves In Pictures book produced in association with the Birmingham Post & Mail.

Dundee were again a tough nut to crack and missed a great chance to level the tie. John Duncan was the guilty man and, like Jim Steele, would shortly step from their side to play in England.

The goalless draw was drab fare overall, although Phil Morgan commented in his considered E & S report on what a ‘jolly frolicsome fellow’ referee Roger Kirkpatrick was.

As a crowd-puller, Wolves’ participation in the tournament had got off to a luke-warm start. Barely 13,000 (more than 10,000 below the League average to that point) were at the second leg 13 days after the first meeting at Dens Park, where the 9,892 attendance was probably affected by the Dundee United v Grasshoppers of Zurich European tie the evening before.

There would have been more empty seats at Molineux had the Morton squad not remained in the West Midlands to take a look at their next opponents after knocking Albion out at The Hawthorns the previous night.

Back on the road....

The Scots’ manager Hal Stewart also dropped in on Wolves’ 3-2 mid-October home victory over Newcastle – a useful pointer as it came four days before the opening skirmish in the Texaco Cup second-round tie.

Curran, who had started the season explosively, was now out with a groin problem but Gould had hit a match-winning hat-trick at home to Manchester United and would shortly score twice against Manchester City. Even with Dougan’s season yet to fire and John Richards still a pup, the goals were flowing again in the side.

The pairing with Morton meant Wolves this time headed for Scotland’s west coast, doing so without Glasgow-born Danny Hegan, who had a sore hip as a result of a reserve game at Preston in which Munro impressively proved his fitness following two games out with a head injury.

Munro was preferred to John Holsgrove – strongly linked at the time with Albion – while John Oldfield replaced Charlton as reserve keeper for an October 21 clash which would bring Wolves into opposition with the former Leeds and Everton inside-forward Bobby Collins.

The squad stayed in Ayrshire at what was described as a Clydeside version of Lilleshall Hall, the tournament now having apparently had the ‘British Isles’ bit taken from its name and become known simply as the Texaco Cup.

Whatever the title, Wolves were largely untroubled at Cappielow Park, where they were two up in 25 minutes. Gould flicked home the first goal when Dougan nodded down McCalliog’s cross, then The Doog himself nodded in Wagstaffe’s left-wing centre.

Bobby Gould watches his terrific header beat keeper Leif Nielsen for Wolves' third goal at Morton.

Wolves were outstanding on the break, Gould flashing in a header to Wagstaffe’s cross to wrap up a 3-0 victory and Bernard Shaw threatening a fourth when he played a one-two with McCalliog and hit the far post before lifting the rebound over.

The long trip has an unusual memory for Gould, who would finish as the club’s top scorer in three different competitions – the League (17), FA Cup (2) and Texaco Cup (5) for a 1970-71 total of 24 goals.

In his reprinted recent autobiography, 24 Carat Gould, he wrote: “We grew to enjoy those trips to Scotland. I liked the Texaco Cup and was delighted to score a couple at Morton in a game watched by my Granddad Bob Morton. Yep, they had the same name.

“He joined me in the players’ bar afterwards and got so engrossed in conversation with the lads that he missed his last train back into Glasgow. Bill McGarry must have mellowed with our victory because he agreed to him having a lift into the city and even gave him a seat at the front.”

Maybe Wolves had one eye on a looming derby date with Albion when they contested the second leg on Tuesday, November 3. Again, they were less convincing at home than away and flirted with major embarrassment.

Gerry Sweeney, later to pop up as Walsall assistant manager, took advantage of poor defending to slam in Morton’s opener mid-way through the first half and more complacency allowed centre-forward Campbell to hit the second in off the under side of the bar on the hour.

Wolves had managed some decent spells of pressure and seen McCalliog’s effort cleared off the line. But they were grateful when Curran stepped from the bench for his first senior action since September 19 and marked his return with a headed goal from Mike Bailey’s 67th minute cross.

With breathing space restored, they overcame a defeat on the night to go through 4-2 on aggregate and were to head off next in a different direction.

Part Two of this article, focusing on the semi-final and final, will follow shortly.

Charlie Bamforth continues his trawl of former Wolves men living abroad by turning to Spain and homing in on a player with divided sporting interests

Phil Parkes bowled mean and quick and Ron Flowers brought as much Yorkshire grit to the cricket pitch as he did to the old gold, approached as he was to play at county level.

But, whereas Lofty and Flowers became Wolves legends, Ian Hall achieved far more in white flannels than ever he did at Molineux. And yet, as a youngster, he seemed destined to reach the very top in the winter game.

Born in Sutton Scarsdale in north-east Derbyshire on December 27, 1939, Ian was a bright child.

“For most of the 1950s, I was at grammar school, first in Mansfield and, from 1953 onwards, near Chesterfield,” he says.

“I played for Mansfield Boys when I was 12 and then for two years played for Chesterfield Boys. We reached the semi-final of the English Schools Shield in 1955 and drew 1-1 with Swansea Boys in front of 18,500 at Saltergate.

“Three days later, I played at Wembley for England Boys against Wales. The attendance was 95,000 and I was due to take penalties! We didn’t get one but I score in a 6-1 victory.  The following Tuesday, we played Swansea in the replay at the Vetch Field with 18,000 present. We lost 0-2.

“Of the England Boys team I played in, three lads joined Manchester United: Alex Dawson, Mark Pearson and Reg Holland. I joined Wolves. United sent assistant manager Jimmy Murphy to speak to my father and myself at the end of that 1955 season but Wolves’ legendary manager Stan Cullis himself came to our house in Ashover. That impressed my father, a junior school head teacher, who had played a few matches for Grimsby in the immediate post-war years.

“United wanted a guarantee that I would sign professional when I turned 17. But I intended going on to sixth form to take A levels and had an eye on an amateur international cap, much as Bill Slater had achieved. So Wolves it was.

Ian Hall (one in from the right on the front row) with England Youths in Zurich. Les Cocker is one in from the left on the same row and Bobby Moore is back row, far left.

“For three seasons, I travelled to Wolverhampton by train on Friday night, or by car with my father on Saturday mornings, to play in either the A team in the Birmingham League or the B team in the Worcestershire Combination.

“When necessary on Friday nights and throughout school holidays, I lodged at Eddie Clamp’s mother’s house 100 yards down Waterloo Road. Her cooking was legendary. Maurice Kyle and Roy Poole were permanent residents but there was also a constant stream of trialists from various parts of the country, including the Wath Wanderers nursery in Yorkshire.

“Barry Stobart was an early resident and we even had a Hungarian under-23 international who had fled the country during the Russian invasion in 1956.” 

Trainer Joe Gardiner was the first man the young Hall encountered at Wolves. “At a deserted Molineux late one afternoon, soon after my father and I had met chief scout George Noakes and secretary Jack Howley, Joe said: ‘Show me a trick.’

“Jack Davies had found me some kit. Now here was the ball rolling towards me and Joe was smiling encouragement. I have often wondered about that moment. Wolves were supposedly a long ball outfit, based on physical power and supreme fitness, yet Joe didn’t tell me to run round the pitch or kick the ball 40 yards.

“First impressions are important and stick in the mind. Joe was a lovely man. Years later, my wife Angela and saw him at a service station on the M6. He was just the same and I have always remembered the way he introduced me to Wolverhampton Wanderers.

“The following day was the start of pre-season training. I met Billy Wright, who I was detailed to shadow for the next few days to learn the ropes. He was England captain and an all-time great. I was a naive 15-year-old but Bill treated me as though I was an equal.

“Training was ferocious – Aldersley Stadium in the morning for running with Olympic sprinter Peter Radford, ‘kicking’ in the afternoon, often at the Co-op ground, Sunray treatment on Wednesday mornings, massages on Fridays. Legs like jelly!

“We didn’t see much of Stan Cullis at training. Sometimes the word went round that he was there and the tempo increased a notch until the message came that he’d gone.

“It is well documented that strong discipline was a feature of his rule. Everyone had a small book of club rules; reporting times, permission required to drive a car, no drinking after Wednesday, that sort of thing. It was thought Mr. Cullis had spies all around Wolverhampton who would report back to him if anyone was fooling about.

“There was a signing-in book outside his office door, with a pencil on a chain. At 9.45, that book disappeared and woe betides anyone whose name was not signed in: an automatic fine.

“His attention to detail was impressive. One day he called me out of training. ‘I’ve been watching you,’ he said. ‘When you walk down the pavement in future, try to walk along the straight lines where the paving stones join. It will help to keep your toes turned inwards. Stanley Matthews’ toes turn inwards and he is the quickest off the mark there has ever been.’ I actually played against Matthews once. His toes did turn inwards!

“In May 1958, I played in the FA Youth Cup winning team that overturned a 1-5 deficit from the first-leg of the final at Chelsea into a truly memorable 6-1 victory in the second leg. What an atmosphere!

“It was 4-0 at half-time and Ted Farmer scored all four. John Kirkham sent tracer-like long passes all round the field. Des Horne turned Ken Shellito inside out. Jimmy Greaves and Barry Bridges hardly had a kick between them. When news of the half-time score filtered up to town, it was estimated that up to 2,000 more turned up for the second half. They weren’t disappointed.

“Cliff Durandt scored twice and, although Greaves scored for Chelsea, the trophy was ours. I don’t know how well I played in midfield but I must have done all right. Passengers were not an option and pride was at stake.

“Even after the mauling at Stamford Bridge, where Stan Cullis gave our captain Granville Palin a real ticking-off and most of us stayed in the shower, we felt we could score against them. But we also thought they could score against us.

“The first team, who had travelled to London with us by train, flew to Switzerland on tour and Cullis wasn’t at the second leg. I can’t remember what was said before we went out but, knowing Bill Shorthouse, it would have very much to the point. Fired up?  We left the dressing room like shots from a gun. Despite the 4-0 scoreline, we were shattered at half-time. Oxygen was available in the dressing room. I’d never had oxygen before.

“In the summer of 1958, I played for England Youths in Switzerland and Austria. Les Cocker was a colleague and the captain was Bobby Moore. Les and I had encountered Moore when he captained London Youth FA against Staffordshire Youth FA in the County Youth Association Trophy final. Greaves also played but we won 8-2 over two legs.”

Having passed his A levels, Hall was offered a place at Loughborough Colleges. “Because National Service was ending, I had to wait until September, 1959 before taking up the offer from Loughborough,” he added. “Had I been born three months earlier, I would have to have done National Service. All students previously had to do that before going to university or teacher training college.”

However, Ian Hall’s horizons featured cricket as much as football and a possible teaching career.

“Both my parents were from Sheffield and, post-war, I was brought up on a diet of Sheffield Wednesday and Yorkshire cricket. Being born in Derbyshire meant I did not qualify to play cricket for Yorkshire but, as a young boy armed with my sandwiches, I watched Derbyshire play for many hours at the beautiful Queen’s Park ground in Chesterfield.

Hall (left) striding out with Charlie Lee to bat for Derbyshire beneath Chesterfield's famous crooked spire.

“My father was a good local cricketer and captain of Matlock Cricket Club, so it was natural I played cricket as well as football. Eventually I progressed to Derbyshire under-18s and to a few matches with Derbyshire 2nds in 1958. The upshot was I was offered a 20-week contract for 1959 season at £9 per week. Effectively, I had the choice between a teaching career and security on one hand and £180 on the other. It was no contest. The question was: What was I to do in the winter?

“Wolves had a cricket team who played charity matches against local clubs in summer and quite a number of them were useful, including Roy Swinbourne, Ron Flowers and Bill Slater, who was good enough to play for Warwickshire 2nds. Many others were enthusiastic, including Billy Wright, and the cricket team were a very popular attraction in the area.

“Although Stan Cullis liked cricket and sometimes played, he wasn’t keen if it interfered with football. The potential for conflict was clear, so, at the end of the summer of 1958, I turned down the offer of a professional contract at Molineux and offered my services to Derby County.

“Harry Storer was manager and had played football for Burnley, Derby and England as well as cricket for Derbyshire. My father and I reasoned that he would have greater sympathy and understanding of a dual sporting career than Cullis. Combining the two closer to home would also be beneficial.

“So I joined Derby, though not as a professional at first. Or at least not officially. I still hankered after an amateur international cap to go with my schoolboy and youth honours, so in 1958-59 I was listed as working in the office. In fact, I never went in the office except for my wages!

“Half way through the following cricket season, I made my debut for Derbyshire against Middlesex at Lords. It meant I had played at Wembley and Lords before I was 20. I made a duck opening in the second innings, caught behind by John Murray off John Warr, and I didn’t walk. In those days, you walked if you edged the ball but I was straight off the village green really and no-one walked there. John Langridge, the umpire, gave me every chance but eventually had to give me out. He came to the dressing room afterwards and issued a few words of advice.

“For young players in sport, trying to make their way in an extremely competitive environment, the ability to take a chance is crucial. The senior player I replaced, Charlie Lee, told me it was club policy to give young batsmen three matches to prove themselves. I was always grateful for that bit of information. Against Kent at Canterbury, I made eight and nought, caught by Godfrey Evans. At Derby, against Leicestershire, I made 11 and 11. Things were getting desperate. Derbyshire v Hampshire at the County Ground, Derby was next. I made 113. It was my ninth innings in first-class cricket and I became the youngest Derbyshire player to make a first-class century. It was a record that stood for more than 50 years until 2010.

“I also signed professional forms for Derby County in 1959 and made my debut against Bristol City at the Baseball Ground in the old Second Division. In 1962, Storer, who was a mentor of Brian Clough, was succeeded by Tim Ward. The first thing he did was transfer me to Mansfield Town, whose manager was his former team-mate, Raich Carter. The fee was £2,500. In 1993, when Tim founded the Derby County Former Players’ Association, Raich became the first president and I was secretary for 12 years.

“I didn’t particularly enjoy football at Derby, largely due to the pitch, which was a quagmire for most of the winter. Before one match against Ipswich, the referee Arthur Ellis came into the dressing room. ‘I’ll have to put this match off,’ he announced. ‘We’ll start the game to get the crowd in and then I’ll put it off after 20 minutes.’ Of, course we didn’t know whether he would actually do that, so we had to play properly. He did though! We were leading 2-1. When the fixture was played again late in the season, Ipswich, under Alf Ramsey, won 4-1.

Signing for Mansfield in 1962, watched by Tim Ward and Raich Carter.

“In a League Cup tie, Matt Crowe of Norwich took a penalty and shot along the floor. The ball pulled up like it was on an elastic rope and our goalkeeper walked out and picked it up. The pitch was more suited to horses than footballers.

“I enjoyed my time at Mansfield. We gained promotion from the Fourth Division in my first season and in 1964-65 missed promotion to the Second Division on goal average. Harry Middleton, who was at Wolves when I was there, scored 16 goals in 24 matches after joining from Shrewsbury. I went back to Molineux in September, 1966 for a League Cup tie (Wolves’ first ever). Wolves were then in the Second Division and beat us 2-1.

“After the match, Wolves’ chairman, John Ireland, who was a director when we had won the Youth Cup, came in and asked how I was. The gesture was symptomatic of the Wolves style in the glory years.”

In April, 1967, Hall severed an Achilles tendon at Swindon, which meant plaster for eight weeks and physiotherapy for four. He missed most of that cricket season but was back playing football in October.

“I’d already enrolled on a one-year full-time Diploma in Youth Work course in Leicester, which meant I reverted to part-time football at Mansfield.  Unfortunately, because of the Achilles injury, whatever nip I had was no longer there and I left at the end of 1967-68, although I continued to play county cricket and during the winter was employed by Derbyshire County Council as a full-time Youth Leader.

In action for Mansfield in 1965.

“We lived in Ashby-de-la-Zouch and, rather than play football in the Southern League, which was quite attractive financially but meant a lot of travelling, I played part-time for Tamworth in the West Midlands League and for Burton. In 1972, despite batting better than I had ever done, I retired from county cricket and became a student at Birmingham University.”

Hall graduated in 1975 with a BA in Social Administration and Physical Education. The head of the physical education department was Bill Slater.

“Was that an advantage? Possibly,” he added. “It was always better to have Bill on your side than against, especially in the car park on a Friday morning when, after formal training, some extremely fierce matches took place on the ash surface. Despite his gentlemanly persona, Bill was hard as nails.

“During my second year at Birmingham, I played for a former Derby County XI in a charity match at Belper. Terry Hennessey also played. He had taken over as manager at Tamworth and asked if I would come back, so I played another two seasons at Tamworth.”

After graduating, Hall finally found himself at Loughborough Colleges to gain a one-year post-graduate teaching certificate before becoming co-ordinator of Enterprise Sky Blue, an experimental project between the Duke of Edinburgh Award Scheme and Coventry City.

“The aim was to use football to try to involve youngsters, who would otherwise not be interested, in joining the Duke of Edinburgh’s Award Scheme. I was the sole employee and had an office at Highfield Road, plus a blank sheet of paper. It was an interesting experience but, 18 months after setting the project in motion, I left. It really needed someone who lived in the community, so David Moorcroft, the Olympic athlete, who was from Coventry, took over and was very successful.”

From 1977-78, Hall was on an 18-month contract at Leicester Polytechnic as a lecturer to under-graduate students in the department of performing arts.

“My subject was ‘acquisition of skill’ and, on the practical side, I coached cricket. One of my colleagues was John Hunting, who refereed an FA Cup final.”

From there, Ian moved to become secretary of Scarborough Cricket Club where, as well as coordinating Yorkshire games there, he also administered several international fixtures as well as the famous Scarborough Cricket Festival.

He was then housemaster at Queen Elizabeth’s Grammar School, Ashbourne, from 1980 to 1987 and recalls: “I was walking along a corridor one morning when the headmaster asked: ‘Can you host the Queen for lunch?’ It was 1985, which was the 400th anniversary of the school’s founding. I knew we had approached the relevant authorities for perhaps a second division royal to attend the celebrations but this was unexpected. I had about ten seconds to think whether we could cope. The Queen stayed for a couple of hours or so.”

Ian graduated with an MA from Loughborough in history and education in 1986 before taking further teaching roles at Dronfield Comprehensive School and Hasland Hall Intermediate School.

Time to talk about others playing the summer game.....

Between 1990 and 1993, he was part of Cricketcall, with a three-year contract to provide cricket commentary via telephone. “I was the Derbyshire commentator. John Gwynne, now Sky Sports’ darts commentator, was Lancashire’s representative. Each county had a commentator and a guest summariser. It meant three people at each game. Eventually companies realised that too many employees had their ears glued to the telephone!”  

For the next 11 years, Hall was a freelance broadcaster/journalist with BBC Radio Derby, summarizing at football in winter and commentating on cricket in summer. He also authored Cricket at Scarborough (1992), Journey Through a Season (1997 – an account of Derby County’s first season in the Premier League), Voices of the Rams (2000 – featuring players, officials and supporters talking about Derby County) and The Legends of Derby County (2001 – highlighting 100 players who contributed to Derby County history).

“Since 2005, we have lived a few minutes’ walk from the beach on Valencia’s Orange Blossom coast. Sun and warmth for old bones!  People have often asked me what it was like playing both sports for a living. ‘Hard work’ I usually reply. On one occasion, I played a three-day match against Hampshire at Southampton which finished on a Tuesday afternoon and then a Second Division match against Luton on the Wednesday evening. I never did pre-season football training, as I was always playing cricket. I had to train on my own in the evening, often having fielded most of the day. Could it be done now? No, clubs wouldn’t allow it. In any case there is too much overlap of the seasons these days.

“Which did I prefer? Football. I was more a natural footballer and found cricket harder to play. Would I have been better at one, if I had not played the other? Probably – 20 per cent perhaps. I was always treated wonderfully at Wolves but, being still at school and living a distance away, I was somewhat on the outside looking in. Football was not my whole life at that time and perhaps it needed to be so for me to be successful at Molineux. That would have been the view of Stan Cullis.”

John Lalley concludes his in-depth look at the fortunes of Wolverhampton Wanderers in major European competition. On August 20, we posted his excellent piece on the club’s travels in the 1950s and early 1960s. Now, with his stirring part two, we fast-forward just over a decade…..

Competitive European football returned to Molineux in 1971-72 after a traumatic ten-year absence.

During the barren decade, the fortunes of the club had sharply declined, including two seasons spent playing second-tier football after relegation in 1965.

Ronnie Allen, who had achieved much in returning the club to stability after the demise of Stan Cullis, lost the manager’s job in September, 1968, and many Wolves fans believed this was a harsh way to reward a man who had achieved promotion in his first full season in the post. He then steered Wolves to survival the following year but a mere two wins in the opening 11 games of 1968-69 before the infamous 6-0 Alun Evans-inspired Molineux rout inflicted by Liverpool finally made up the mind of John Ireland.

The chairman had been a long-time admirer of Ipswich boss Bill McGarry and finally managed to lure him to Molineux.

McGarry was no overnight success, though. Wolves limped to a final 18th position and, although some improvement was evident in the following season, the Ireland-McGarry axis would still have been significantly unimpressed with a 13th-place finish. And the reputation of both men was very much on the line when the 1970-71 season opened with three successive defeats.

But, from then on, the team responded magnificently to finish fourth and, for what it was worth, win the Texaco Cup by beating Hearts in a two-leg final which overall attracted almost 55,000 spectators. If nothing else, the experience appeared to suggest that cup football and participation in the latter stages of a competition still stirred the pulses. Thus, qualification for the newly-formed UEFA Cup, a replacement for the Inter Cities Fairs Cup, promised to be a diverting pastime.

In reality, the tournament was to provide Wolves fans with some of the most exhilarating football experienced in years, with the team quite splendidly showcasing their skills against some quality foreign opposition and rekindling pleasant memories of previous years.

This talented group of performers were constantly being reminded of the heroics of their peerless predecessors from the 1950s but responded superbly and deserved so much more than to fall as they did amid extreme disappointment and anti-climax.

Despite what at the time seemed to be avid interest, the Molineux attendances for these fixtures were perplexing. The semi-final against Ferencvaros attracted fewer spectators (28,262) than the Texaco final had the year before. The first leg of the final against Tottenham was played out in front of an astonishingly meagre crowd of 38,362, with only the visit of the Italian aristocrats of Juventus attracting an attendance in excess of 40,000.

Almost 40 years on, it remains inexplicable. Only five days after the Tottenham game, Molineux was filled to bursting when, officially at least, 53,379 crammed into the ground for a League match against Leeds. That evening, a gate was broken down, allowing many others to gain entry without bothering the turnstile operators and raising the actual attendance to anybody’s guess.

A rare goal for John McAlle as Wolves see off Academica Coimbra at Molineux. The defender also scored in the away leg.

Strange, but the people of Wolverhampton seemed to find the vicarious thrill of seeing Leeds denied the Championship a more appealing prospect than watching their own team vying to win a major European competition.

The run began with Molineux’s first European fixture since the defeat against Rangers in 1961. Portugal’s Academica Coimbra were easily dispatched 3-0 with, of all people, John McAlle scoring the first goal before the old firm of Richards and Dougan added others, The Doog embarking on a club record haul of nine European goals in a season.

The 3-0 victory made the second leg a formality. Academica were making their third sortie into European competition and had not conceded a single goal on home territory in any previous tie but Wolves romped home in Portugal as well despite having Danny Hegan sent off for retaliation early in the second half.

Bizarrely, McAlle was again on the score sheet but it was Dougan who stole the show. He rattled in a hat-trick, just as he had at Molineux the previous Saturday against Nottingham Forest. A 7-1 aggregate win made for an emphatic start.

Less than a month later, Wolves were again prolific on their travels. This time it was in Holland as three goals in the last half hour secured a comfortable victory over second-round opponents ADO Den Haag.

The second leg at Molineux was a cakewalk, always remembered for the implosion of the opposition in gifting Wolves a remarkable three own goals in a 4-0 victory.

Wolves get lucky against Den Haag.

After opening the scoring himself, Dougan typically couldn’t mind his own business when Kees Weimar slid home the first free gift. With the opponent sprawled out on the turf at the North Bank end, Doog ruffled the hair of the prostrate defender, possibly in sympathy, but central defender Aad Mansveld took exception and sent Dougan crashing to the ground with a hefty shove. Inevitably, a few minutes later, it was Mansveld himself scoring at the wrong end and this time Dougan sensibly kept his opinions and his hands to himself!

Wolves warmed up for the brutal cold weather that awaited them in East Germany for their third-round encounter by enjoying superb League victories over Derby and Arsenal. Both games survive for posterity through TV footage and even now you never tire of taking a look.

After a couple of Richards goals saw off champions-to-be Derby – and how they were to thank Wolves in that Leeds game a few months later – Arsenal were thrashed 5-1, with Dave Wagstaffe’s brilliant strike past a flailing Bob Wilson still a topic of conversation today. They were two great performances, fabulously entertaining and indications that Wolves really meant business.

The trip behind the Iron Curtain was for a match played on a Wednesday afternoon and, with no live radio coverage on offer, office and factory folk in Wolverhampton scurried away from their duties trying to glean snippets of information about the game against Carl Zeiss Jena.

It transpired that Richards had scored early on a snow-covered pitch in a small, basic stadium populated by around 10,000 - the attendance boosted by a hardy few from Wolverhampton, who created their own bit of history. The two-day trip organised by the Wolves Development Association was the first time a football supporters’ tour to East Germany was allowed.

Alles in ordnung! Paperwork present and correct for a trip behind the Iron Curtain.

This first-leg win had an increasing number of fans believing that Wolves had the potential to go all the way in this tournament. The players had adapted brilliantly in away ties, scoring heavily and defending doggedly before sweeping aside the opposition with real panache under the Molineux lights.

There was no travel hangover for the team either. Three days after returning from such an arduous journey, they breezed into The Hawthorns to beat Albion 3-2 in a pulsating match. It was a titanic struggle which said a great deal about the conditioning and fitness of the players under Bill McGarry, God rest his soul.

Poor old Bill…….to put it mildly, few Wolves players had the volcanic boss at the top of their Christmas card list. But, at that time and for a couple of years, his team were winning games and at times playing some scintillating football.

There is a great photograph in the match programme for the return game with Carl Zeiss. McGarry is pictured on the bench in Germany bellowing instructions with his balding head protected from the falling snowflakes by a giant towel. He looks like a cross between a belligerent ‘hoodie’ and the Sheikh of Araby. No, not everyone’s cup of tea was Bill but, for the enjoyment Wolves doled out between 1972 and 1974, I for one remember him fondly - even if so many of his players do not!

The three unanswered goals in the return leg meant Wolves looked forward to the quarter-final, having scored 18 goals and conceded just two. In the process, Dougan had already overtaken Peter Broadbent as the club’s most prolific scorer in competitive European football. It was great stuff.

No doubt the tie that stirred the greatest interest was the pairing with Juventus. They were the most successful outfit in Italian football and sat top of Serie A when Wolves visited Turin in March.

The draw in Italy was a magnificent result, especially as by now Wolves were operating without skipper Mike Bailey, who was injured in January in the FA Cup tie against Leicester.

The club pulled off an engaging PR manoeuvre by taking the legendary John Charles on the trip as an ambassador/adviser to liaise with the club where he stood as one of the greatest heroes of all time. The Welsh giant sat on the touchline alongside Bailey and an agitated McGarry and acted as interpreter when the Wolves boss was banished from the bench after the referee took exception to one explosion too many from Bill’s extensive repertoire of raving belligerence.

But, seething as he was at having been forced to view the rest of the game in the company of the local Carabinieri, McGarry must have been immensely proud and satisfied at what he witnessed. Such was the frustration of the home side that their 25-year-old midfielder, one Fabio Capello, apparently lost his cool with Phil Parkes. Lofty was enraged and, with characteristic forthrightness, threatened Capello with the direst retribution imaginable when the Italian showed his face at Molineux.

A keepsake from a memorable excursion to Italy.

As Capello is only now getting to grips with the English language, it’s safe to assume that, nearly 40 years back, he would have experienced a spot of bother trying to decipher Lofty’s high-pitched West Bromwich linguistic tones. Just the same, I’d wager that he may just have caught the gist of the keeper’s intentions.

To his immense frustration, though, Parkes was informed by John Charles that, in view of the 1-1 draw, Capello and a number of the Juve big guns would not be making the trip to Wolverhampton – and so it proved. Lofty simply had to settle for his win bonus instead.

Danny Hegan, admirably deputising for Bailey, enjoyed his best moment in a Wolves shirt to register the first goal in the return with a remarkably inventive long-range effort which effectively summed up the genius of a career wasted.

Dougan’s ninth goal of the UEFA campaign, from a Wagstaffe corner, sealed a deserved win despite a late strike from 1966 World Cup finalist Helmut Haller, who himself had displeased the Juventus management by seeking out the fleshpots of Wolverhampton to do some ‘refuelling’ and broken curfew in the process.

It was a great night for the 40,000-plus there to witness it but, in truth, John Charles had been proved right; Juventus had come to fulfil the fixture but much of their stomach for battle had remained behind in Turin.

Parksey might have been left grumbling that he didn’t get the chance to settle the Capello account but he excelled himself in the semi-final against Ferencvaros.

Not this time Lofty! But the keeper was a penalty hero later in this tie against Ferencvaros.

In the first leg in Budapest, the home side overhauled an early Wolves goal by Richards to lead 2-1 at half time. Istvan Szoke had already scored from the spot and, when another penalty was awarded after the interval, for the first time in the entire European adventure, Wolves faced the real prospect of elimination. Cue Parkes, who though initially moving the wrong way, stuck out a big left boot to divert Szoke’s effort away from danger. Frank Munro headed a priceless late equaliser to leave Wolves in pole position to reach the final.

Maybe the disappointing attendance at Molineux for the return could be partially explained by the assumption that many considered the job effectively done. And when Steve Daley, playing in place of the injured Wagstaffe, scored in the first minute, no doubt thousands more felt the same.

Munro added a second before half-time and Wolves were cruising but it took another Parkes penalty save to preserve the advantage. And, when the Hungarians did reduce the arrears, the final stages were tense indeed. But overall there was no denying the merit of Wolves’ aggregate triumph.

To the keen disappointment of most Wolves fans, the opponents in the final would be Tottenham, who had successfully defended a slender 2-1 first-leg advantage to overcome AC Milan at the San Siro. Almost immediately, there was a sense of unease.

The final ranks as just about the biggest anti-climax I have experienced in 50 years of following the club. It was a filthy night at Molineux, dank and uninviting, but that surely did not explain the paltry attendance of 38,362.

As the rain steadily grew heavier, many fans at the front of the South Bank followed the usual inclement weather Molineux ritual and retreated for cover under the huge grey roof at the back of the massive old terrace. Very soon, I was standing almost in isolation, able to move yards along the steps without disturbing any other spectator. It was akin to being at a Central League match and the lack of expectancy and passion tallied with a run-of-the-mill reserve game.

The view for the few of us who remained at the front was excellent; completely unimpeded. But there was little sense of occasion and the atmosphere was zero. I struggled to convince myself that this mundane chore was masquerading as a European final. After all the anticipation over many months, this was a savage disappointment. Wolves had waged a magnificent campaign across the continent and it had been a truly heroic journey to reach the last stage, so our players deserved better. I sensed before a ball was kicked in anger against Spurs that our number was up. It was flat and lifeless and, to this day, I still struggle to understand why.

I had taken it for granted that Molineux would be an absolute cauldron of partisan commitment that night, a chance to rekindle the pride and the passion of those floodlit epics from 20 years before. Instead, the event took on the mantle of a routine meeting between a couple of top-end First Division teams who were well used to sharing each others’ company.

Familiarity almost bred contempt. There was nothing special. Just about the only discernable difference was that Spurs wore their white shorts in place of the navy that they always did during their great European nights back in the early sixties. As novelties go, that was about the height of it.  

As the years have passed, Wolves fans have continued to speculate that, in all probability, had the opposition been continental rather than home-based, Wolves would have prevailed. Maybe. Having seen off Juventus in such style, the prospect of facing AC Milan would not have frightened anyone at Molineux.

Against English opposition, Bailey’s continued absence was a critical blow. No Wolves player would have relished the challenge more than the captain. The chance to end a drought of a dozen seasons without a major trophy by locking horns against Alan Mullery, the player Spurs boss Bill Nicholson had plumped for after thinking long and hard about recruiting Bailey from Charlton Athletic a few years previously, would have inspired him. Bailey might just have made that difference.

Disproportionate volumes of blame flew in Phil Parkes’ direction after Martin Chivers won the tie for Spurs with a couple of monumental long-range strikes. Lofty was the fall guy. A scapegoat had to be found and, almost 40 years on, he still takes it all in his affable giant stride. ‘ Seen it, done it, heard it all, got the t-shirt,’ is his response to the constant reminders of that night. Modesty prevents him from citing his heroics in the semi-final.

For many, the final encapsulated their perception of Parkes’ Molineux career –often inspired but haphazard when it really mattered. Fate was to deal him an even crueller hand when injury cost him his Wembley place in 1974. The disappointment sits easily on his broad shoulders, he doesn’t do regret and recrimination regarding football. He enjoyed it too much for that.

One of the decisive moments from the UEFA Cup final as Alan Mullery scores at White Hart Lane.

Bill Nicholson was a ruthlessly honest man and,when he said that Wolves were the better side in the second leg at White Hart Lane, he meant it. But Wagstaffe’s screamer to equalise Mullery’s opener was not enough and a wonderful interlude in Wolves’ history faded into ultimate disappointment and no little frustration.

After such a major heartbreak, it was a genuine achievement to finish fifth the following season and, in so doing, earn another chance in Europe. But after easily eliminating Belenenses of Portugal in the first round, Wolves capitulated in East Germany, losing 3-0 to Locomotiv of Leipzig.

The Molineux return was fabulous, with Wolves tearing their opponents to pieces to win 4-1, only to be eliminated on the away goals ruling. A paltry 14,530 fans attended, continuing the puzzling trend of apathy regarding these matches.

History almost repeated itself the following year. Qualifying as League Cup holders, Wolves started in Portugal yet again and were hammered 4-1 in Porto before another sparse Molineux crowd witnessed another pulsating counter attack. The team were possibly even more impressive than they had been when thrashing Locomotiv but a 3-1 win with Dougan weighing in with a nostalgic last European goal was not enough, even if honour had been restored.

Holland revisited, 1980.

It was not until 1980, on the strength of another League Cup triumph, that Wolves competed again in Europe. It was to Holland not Portugal this time but, despite a glorious towering header from Andy Gray, they slipped to a 3-1 defeat against PSV Eindhoven.

The second leg at Molineux was overshadowed, quite literally, by a power failure which plunged the stadium into darkness. Those of us in attendance enjoyed the sense of novelty but, looking back, it was almost a message from the soothsayer to warn us that, very soon, Wolverhampton Wanderers, European football pioneers and three-time Champions of England, were set on a dark path.

The 1-0 win on the night was not enough, although it meant that 12 successive home wins against foreign opposition had been secured – quite an achievement. Playing in Europe had been an exciting adventure that deserved a better ending. Maybe we might try it again in the not too distant future.

* Our additional thanks for the loan of keepsakes used in this feature go to Bob Adams and Gwilym Machin.

It’s 30 years this autumn since Wolves last played in major European competition. To commemorate the fact, Express & Star guest writer John Lalley steps forward again for Wolves Heroes to detail the club’s history in organised Continental competition.  

The low-key Molineux friendly against Athletico Bilbao that preceded Wolves’ 2010-2011 campaign will not linger long in the memory. 

The contrast in interest and anticipation could hardly be greater to the response to the inaugural fixtures against foreign opposition back in the 1950s, when Molineux became the epicentre of British football. 

The nation was intrigued by the ‘floodlit friendlies’ instigated in 1953. Wolves, whether by accident or design, assumed the mantle to restore the pride of fans at large who were flabbergasted by the 6-3 destruction inflicted on England by the Puskas-inspired Hungarians at Wembley earlier that year. 

‘Friendlies’ is surely the wrong word. The games became epic encounters, ultra-competitive, the 1954 clash with Honved – this time with Puskas in club colours – passing into history as the most famous match ever to grace the Molineux turf. 

A huge night at Molineux.

The culmination followed three years later when the incomparable Real Madrid were beaten under our famous lights. 

By then, the entrenched Europhobic stance of the football authorities in this country was at least starting to recognise the desirability of competitive football against Continental opposition. 

Having originally set their face against England entering the World Cup, the jingoistic folly was repeated at club level. Chelsea, after beating Wolves to the Championship in 1954-55, were denied entry into the European Cup after pressure from the Football League. 

But visionary managers such as Stan Cullis and his Manchester counterpart Matt Busby knew that this myopic policy could not be sustained. They both possessed a burning desire to see their clubs tested in the European arena. 

When proper European competition at last began to hold sway, the ‘floodlit friendlies’ had run their course and Wolves’ record lay proudly intact – no foreign team had left these shores having beaten them. 

Summing up this unprecedented period in the club’s history, former captain Eddie Stuart claimed with typical enthusiasm: “We weren’t just the best team in the country, we were the best team in the world!” 

They were possibly words of exaggeration but it was not a standpoint that could be dismissed totally out of hand. When Wolves visited Glasgow in October, 1959, and beat the hosts in the first floodlit match at Celtic Park, the Hoops’ legendary chairman Bob Kelly wrote in the match programme: “I rate the English champions as the most accomplished side in Europe. In many ways, they are a much greater attraction than any Continental side. Their record against foreign opposition is unblemished.” 

It was quite a tribute from a Scot! Perhaps Stuart was not so far wide of the mark. Yet, just eight years later, it was Celtic, not Wolves, who became the first British club to lift the European Cup. While they were creating history in Lisbon, Wolves were desperately seeking to win promotion back to the First Division. How times had changed. 

Wolves duly entered a European competition for the first time in 1958-59. Such was the calibre of their playing staff, they had won the Championship despite the departure of some truly wonderful players; men who had starred in the floodlit fixtures which so stirred the pulses. 

In the interim, the likes of Bert Williams, Bill Shorthouse, Roy Swinbourne, Dennis Wilshaw and Johnny Hancocks had left the club. This stunning array of talent would soon be joined by Billy Wright and Jimmy Mullen, who were about to play out their respective final seasons at Molineux. 

And what an inauspicious start Wolves made in Europe. They stumbled to an aggregate defeat at the very first hurdle against Schalke 04. 

Peter Broadbent - a frequent European 'flier.'

In the first leg at Molineux, the visitors led 1-0 at half-time but a couple of splendid headers from Peter Broadbent ensured that Wolves remained unbeaten on home soil against foreign opposition. 

Then, just two minutes from time, the West German side fashioned an equaliser from winger Koslowski and left Wolves facing an uphill task in the second leg in Gelsenkirchen. 

There, Wolves were two down at the interval before Derbyshire-born reserve striker Alan Jackson - in for the out-of-form Jimmy Murray – reduced the arrears. 

Jackson appeared in only four League matches for the club, scoring once against Burnley before leaving to play his football at Bury. But he has the distinction of being one of only five Wolves players who have scored goals in the most prestigious competition in European football. 

He did not even have the satisfaction of seeing his name in the match programme for the game at Molineux. Defender George Showell was on the team sheet at no 9 as an emergency striker in Murray’s absence. 

All told, it was a bitter anti-climax but, on the home front, Wolves were magnificently undeterred. It was business as usual as the Championship was retained in consummate style with 110 goals scored to ensure another crack alongside Europe’s elite in the following season. 

This time, Wolves were destined to reach the quarter-finals, only for a humiliation of epic proportions to lie in store; a seismic defeat that not only graphically signalled their deficiencies on the European stage, but a mauling that prefaced the club’s decline and saw their dominance of the domestic game come to an end. 

An FA Cup triumph at Wembley would provide glorious compensation at the season’s end but, for Wolves, the writing was on the wall. The club gradually yet inexorably began to stagnate and coming to terms with such a painful reality was a desperately difficult process. 

Wolves started the tournament in the preliminary round and returned to Germany, this time to the Eastern sector to face ASK Vorwaerts in Berlin. 

Broadbent fired them in front inside quarter of an hour but almost immediately the initiative was lost and the Germans overcame the deficit to claim a 2-1 first-leg advantage. 

Jimmy Murray shoots goalwards in Wolves' home win over Vorwaerts.

The return was played in front of an expectant crowd of over 55,000, who saw a dominant home team clinch an aggregate victory with goals from Broadbent and Bobby Mason. Vorwaerts were fortunate to have kept the tie so close and escape without further damage. 

Interestingly, the match programme stated with much justification: “In Wolverhampton – and in Manchester – we realise perhaps more than in most parts of England the importance of the European Cup competition.” Sadly for one of the two pioneering English clubs, future comparisons could hardly be starker. 

Wolves had just another couple of ties in this competition and, since their elimination in March, 1960, have never graced it since. In contrast, our closest rivals from Old Trafford emulated Celtic by lifting the trophy for the first time in 1968 and, during the last 50 years, have woven their name into the very fabric of the competition, with Wolves forced to watch, open-mouthed with envy. 

And poignant it was that Wolves’  next European Cup opponents were Red Star Belgrade. It was returning from the same venue the previous year that United’s charter flight diverted to Munich with such appalling consequences. 

Any spirit of kinship was singularly lacking, however, as Wolves returned home delighted with a 1-1 draw courtesy of a goal from Norman Deeley. The match itself was a brutal affair played in front of 62,000 hostile Yugoslavs and the programme for the return was in censorious mood. 

“This time, we shall have the crowd on our side and, unless you have heard the shrill whistles of the Continental crowds, you will not probably understand what that means,” it asserted in somewhat haughty tones. 

“The crowd at the Partizan Stadium were at their most shrill, we imagine, for they kept it up almost throughout the entire game. The time has come we feel when the more realistic and no less commanding English roar can be brought into use in the interests of club and country.” 

This admonishing lecture, interspersed with three examples of the Royal ‘we,’ was clearly intent on putting ‘Johnny Foreigner’ in his place. Yes, give our visitors from overseas a courteous welcome but let them never forget that to be born English is the greatest good fortune that can be bestowed on an individual! 

And, as for being ‘shrill’ – we simply don’t do that sort of thing here! This long-entrenched insularity, this rigid certainty that the English way was the only way was about to be catastrophically exposed as a hopelessly flawed concept. 

Bobby Mason heads Wolves in the right direction in their resounding Molineux win over Red Star.

Wolves and English football were about to hit planet earth with a resounding bump but, for the moment, the writer of ‘Notes by Wanderer’ must have felt vindicated  as Wolves tore into a timid Red Star, demolishing them 3-0 in front of a vociferous but certainly not ‘shrill’ Molineux audience of 55,000. 

Then the trouble really started - in the stylish shape of C.F. Barcelona. Ruthlessly exploiting Wolves’ dated and outmoded style of all-out attack, they hit the English champions on the break so effectively that the tie was effectively settled there and then at the Gran Estadio. 

The 4-0 deficit was painfully illustrative of the shift in power of Continental football. It was, in short, a rout and the best Wolves could hope for was to retain their unbeaten floodlit home record. 

But a mighty second helping of humiliation was around the corner for Cullis’s team. Wolves and their proud record were systematically dismantled before another, this time disbelieving attendance of 55,000-plus. 

Sandor Kocsis, who missed the first leg, returned to Molineux with a vengeance. He had been part of the beaten Honved team in Wolverhampton six years previously and this time helped himself to two goals before the interval after suffering a dislocation of his shoulder. 

It was so painful that he fainted in the dressing room at half-time before being fortified by an injection which allowed him to return to the action and add another couple of goals for a personal tally of four in a 5-2 win. 

For Wolves, the game was well and truly up and the Barcelona coach Helenio Herrera basked in the aggregate annihilation of 9-2 to deliver this parting shot: “You in England are playing now in the style we Continentals used many years ago with much physical strength, but no method, no technique.” 

It was a damning indictment that added insult to injury but it was a wholly accurate and considered professional assessment. 

In the following season, with no European Cup to stir the imagination, Wolves had the consolation of becoming England’s first representative in the inaugural European Cup Winners Cup. But only ten teams entered and Wolves merely had to win one tie to book a place in the semi-final. 

Interest was luke-warm. After losing 2-0 in Vienna to FK Austria when, by conservative estimates, Wolves hit the woodwork five times, only 31,000 turned up at Molineux for the second leg. 

John Kirkham deputised for the indisposed Ron Flowers and scored a couple in a 5-0 blitz that was every bit as easy as the score indicates. 

Clearly, though, this was not the big stage that Wolves had been so used to performing on and the fact there was a seven-week gap between the two legs seemed indicative that this competition was hardly a priority. 

The Molineux match programme hardly gave a ringing endorsement: “In recent seasons, there has been so much new on offer at Molineux that there seems little fresh to be offered. Nevertheless, we have found something thanks to the Cup final victory in May. 

“That gave us the right of entry into the new Cup of European Cup Winners and tonight we have the honour of introducing the new competition to Wolverhampton. 

“There are the sceptics who feel the new cup has not much chance against the competition provided by the now fabulous European Cup but there has to be a beginning and, as we were taught at school, large oaks from little acorns grow. Tonight, therefore, we may be watching the start of something big.” 

The semi-final was memorable because of Wolves’ opponents, Glasgow Rangers. It was to be the first Anglo-Scottish meeting in European competition and Rangers were hell-bent on avenging the hideous 9-3 drubbing England had inflicted on Scotland at Wembley only days previously. 

I can still picture the grainy black and white images of the Ibrox clash as the BBC covered the game. Wolves were heading for a not insurmountable 1-0 deficit when, late on, Eddie Clamp was fatally caught in possession and allowed Ralph Brand to double the home team’s advantage. 

Staggeringly, almost 80,000 fans attended in Glasgow, with just 45,000 at Molineux three weeks later – 10,000 fewer than for each of the three European Cup games on the ground in the previous season. 

Trouble for Malcolm Finlayson and Wolves against Glasgow Rangers at Molineux.

The gate was boosted, too, by a huge influx of Scots, with a minority intent on mayhem. Rangers led at half-time and deservedly reached the final despite an equaliser from Broadbent. 

I remember leaving the North Bank that night clutching my father’s hand tightly. At the exit, he wished a Rangers fan all the best for the final. The Scot responded magnanimously; some scenes had been ugly but most Rangers fans were not looking for trouble. 

And, on that anti-climactic note, Wolves and competitive European football went their separate ways for the best part of 11 years until Academica Coimbra arrived in town for a first-round UEFA Cup tie. 

In the meantime, with Wolves in serious decline, a feeble attempt was made in December, 1962, to recreate the dramatic events of eight years previously when a pale shadow of a Honved team returned to Molineux. 

Despite the obvious comparisons and the best efforts of a sparse crowd to rekindle an atmosphere that no longer existed, a turgid floodlit travesty of a match fell flat on its face as two teams hopelessly overshadowed by their supreme predecessors played out a 1-1 draw. Some memories are best treasured by being left well alone. 

Next time: Goal-filled travels with Bill McGarry.

A wind of change was sweeping through Britain in 1960. The prim austerity of the 1950s was slowly but inexorably being engulfed by the outset of the ‘swinging sixties’ and 1960 was the year that Penguin Books were prosecuted under the Obscene Publications Act after their publication of the D H Lawrence classic ‘Lady Chatterley’s Lover.’

Representing the Crown, Mervyn Griffith Jones QC asked the jury with a magnificent exposition of pomposity: “Is this the kind of book you would wish your wife or servants to read?”

Society was ready to move on; so was football. The year 1960 marked the beginning of the end for censorship and it coincided with the last tango for Wolves as the dominant force in the English game.

Our lust for silverware had been insatiable but the passion was about to dampen, although it’s hard to imagine that any pre-season at Molineux could have been sprinkled with greater anticipation than the one in 1959.

The prospect of a third consecutive League championship and a second tilt at the European Cup signified that the club’s aspirations could not be set any higher.

Ultimately, however, both these challenges were destined to end in bitter disappointment. The championship eluded Wolves by the slenderest of margins while Barcelona handed out a monumental thrashing that put paid to any notion that Wolves would rule Europe in the aftermath of the fabulous floodlit friendly games with which they pioneered the inception of what is today’s Champions League.

Consolation didn’t come any bigger than winning the FA Cup. Indeed, when Pathe News filmed the event, their commentary said that the kick-off at Wembley marked the start of the match for ‘the most highly prized trophy in the world of sport.’

The luck of the draw certainly did not favour Wolves in the third round. A trip to Newcastle - three-times winners of the trophy in the previous decade – was a daunting prospect.

The Geordies clearly didn’t give much for our chances either. The match programme bluntly expressed the prospects with typical North East swagger: “United are playing with such skill and purpose that it is difficult to see how Wolves or any other team can give them the KO.”

Jimmy Murray is denied in front of the Geordie masses.

In front of a crowd in excess of 62,000, Ron Flowers fired in an equaliser before his wing-half partner Eddie Clamp converted a penalty to put Wolves ahead after a goal-bound shot from Norman Deeley was handled by a Newcastle defender - an infringement that these days renders instant dismissal for the culprit.

A late reply for the Magpies meant that the first fully floodlit cup replay to be played at Molineux would be contested on the following Wednesday. In a cracking match played in arctic conditions, Wolves won 4-2.

Over 40 years later, speaking at his then home in Tettenhall Wood, Eddie Stuart, the Wolves captain in the two games, said that being drawn at Newcastle was such a stiff test that even at such an early stage, he felt Wolves would reach Wembley if they survived it.

Stuart also revealed to me his despair relating to a far more serious matter. By February, he found himself vying with George Showell for the no 2 shirt. Then, on March 21, back in his native South Africa, police opened fire and killed 69 black civil rights demonstrators in Sharpeville near Johannesburg.

A storm of international protest followed and Stuart, a native of Jo’burg, was subjected to disparaging and upsetting comments. He had no truck with apartheid but this hard, no-nonsense defender was and remains a highly emotional individual. “I’m a fusser,” he admitted, conceding that Sharpeville distracted him.

He revealed that he spoke extensively to Stan Cullis about his apprehensions and was appreciative of how supportive the manager was. Showell was the man in possession of the right-back spot and playing superbly and, significantly, the playing season was over for Eddie Stuart after Sharpeville.

Last autumn, Wolves Heroes fixed me up with the chance to meet the other South African in the Wolves team, winger Des Horne. He did not experience the turmoil suffered by his older compatriot. In fact, 1959-60 was the best season of his brief stay at Molineux.

Des Horne....a potent force in Wolves' last FA Cup-winning season.

Horne, who was just short of his 70th birthday when we became acquainted in a city centre coffee shop, scored in the replay against Newcastle and weighed in with another goal in the fourth-round game against Charlton at Molineux.

The match programme paid tribute to former Charlton goalkeeper Sam Bartram, who had recently retired, then 37,000 spectators saw his successor Willie Duff play the game of his life. The Second Division side almost defied Wolves, who scored very late on to shade the tie 2-1.

Reflecting on the Cup run, Eddie Clamp referred to the game being ‘our hardest match - and everyone thought it would be our easiest.’

Clamp was on the score-sheet against Luton in the fifth-round tie at Kenilworth Road. England goalkeeper Ron Baynham allowed ‘Chopper’s’ speculative long-range effort to slip through his fingers in dreadful monsoon-like conditions.

Bobby Mason helped himself to a couple of goals in the 4-1 win, one of which was a superb diving header.

When Wolves then travelled to Filbert Street to play Leicester in the quarter-final, they trailed Tottenham in the First Division by a single point and were on course to become the first club to win the League and Cup double in the 20th century. Ultimately, it would be Spurs themselves who achieved the distinction in the following season.

Keeper Malcolm Finlayson, injured for the Luton tie, was still absent, so Geoff Sidebottom continued in goal. His fellow Yorkshireman Barry Stobart filled in up front with the prolific Jimmy Murray also out of the side.

But an own goal from City full-back Len Chalmers and a strike from Peter Broadbent past the great Gordon Banks saw Wolves into their first semi-final since 1951.

Wolves were hot favourites facing the Second Division leaders, Joe Mercer’s Aston Villa, at The Hawthorns.

With Horne missing, Cullis – famous for his policy of blooding young players - drafted in 20-year-old Gerry Mannion, who had played only three League games.

Villa offered spirited resistance but an early Deeley strike beat keeper Nigel Sims, who had spent the first eight years of his career at Molineux, and proved sufficient to earn Wolves a place in their eighth FA Cup final.

Their Wembley opponents would be Blackburn, who had beaten Sheffield Wednesday in their semi-final courtesy of a couple of goals from a certain Derek Dougan. Back in those days, Doog just couldn’t help himself and posted a transfer request to the Rovers board on the day of the final, spending the next seven years as a nomadic maverick until he found his niche and a glorious climax to his career at Molineux. But Saturday, May 7, 1960, was not to be Doog’s day; this was one for the Wolves.

The Monday before the final brought major disappointment. Burnley’s win at Manchester City thwarted Wolves’ quest for a hat-trick of consecutive League championships, the title going to Turf Moor by a solitary point.

In those heady days, second-place finishes were deemed a failure at Molineux and defeat at Wembley was not an option as far as Cullis was concerned.

Wolves had already beaten Blackburn home and away in League matches that season and Rovers were a lowly 17th in the table.

Tottenham captain Danny Blanchflower, who the following season would achieve that coveted double triumph, summed up the mood when speaking on television on the morning of the final. With typical Irish whimsy, he gave us this take: “Everybody’s tipping Wolverhampton Wanderers to win, so I’m tipping Blackburn Rovers to lose.”

For Cullis, team selection was a straightforward exercise with a couple of exceptions. Following a 5-1 win at Chelsea in the final League game, he retained Stobart, which meant there was no place for the excellent Bobby Mason, who had played in every match on the road to Wembley. The anguish must have been desperately hard for Tipton-born Mason to stomach.

Des Horne, who scored twice at Stamford Bridge, was preferred to Gerry Mannion. Despite some excellent League form from the rookie, it was the South African who got the nod.

Not this time.....Ron Flowers' effort was disallowed but Wolves weren't to be denied their Wembley glory.

The final was played in tropical heat, with many spectators having to be revived after fainting. They saw Wolves in the ascendancy throughout the first half and finally take a deserved lead when Rovers wing-half Mick McGrath deflected a Stobart cross into his own goal.

Two minutes later, the match effectively ended as a contest. Norman Deeley tangled with Blackburn’s full-back Dave Whelan and the current owner of Wigan Athletic left Wembley on a stretcher with a badly broken leg.

Over the years, constant reviewing of the match DVD strongly indicates there was no malice in the winger’s challenge. Indeed, later that year, the FA yearbook reflected that ‘Whelan’s injury was sustained in a harmless-looking tackle with Deeley.’

In his 2009 autobiography, Whelan was highly critical of Deeley and reinforced his claim when speaking on Simon Mayo’s Radio 5 Live show on the BBC. Whelan insisted Deeley had ‘gone over the top’ in response to a couple of hefty challenges by Whelan.

Deeley, who died in 2007, was not here to respond but Horne told us that any suggestion of his colleague deliberately taking out an opponent so ruthlessly was nonsense. Horne revealed too that, early in the game, a couple of Blackburn defenders gave him ‘the verbals’ by threatening him with dire consequences if he tangled with them. Unfazed, he replied that no Rovers player was quick enough to catch him – and was proved right!

Deeley’s two goals and disallowed efforts from Ron Flowers and Jimmy Murray simply emphasised Wolves’ superiority. Captain Bill Slater, voted Footballer of the Year, lifted the trophy to the delight of all from Wolverhampton, but not, it appeared, to many from outside the town.

Certain sections of the national press dubbed the game ‘The Dustbin Final’ – an allusion not only to their perception of the entertainment value on offer but to the fact that a section of disgruntled Blackburn fans threw apple cores and discarded match programmes in the direction of the Wolves players as they completed their lap of honour.

It's Ours! Bill Slater and Blackburn captain Ronnie Clayton are interviewed by David Coleman after Wolves' 3-0 win.

Malcolm Finlayson bristles at the criticism to this day, pointing out that the heat was stifling and debilitating; so energy-sapping that fast, fluent football was virtually impossible. He stresses that at no time, before or after the Whelan injury, was there any likelihood of Wolves not prevailing. The ‘dustbin’ jibes are met with contempt.

A couple of years ago, I spoke at length with Finlayson at his business base in Staffordshire before we went to the garage housing the magnificent collection of classic cars of his that were featured on www.wolvesheroes.com very recently.

With properties in the Midlands and in his native Scotland and a hugely successful business career behind him, clearly Finlayson has much to be proud of. As I was about to leave, though, he said: ”Just one last thing……of everything I’ve ever achieved, nothing compares to playing for the Wolves. Nothing even comes close.”

John Lalley

By John Lalley

The inspirational John Barnwell consoles Willie Carr after Wolves' 1979 FA Cup semi-final KO.

When John Barnwell became Wolves’ manager in 1978, he joined a club facing a relegation battle.

Immediately, though, he turned fortune on its head, kept them in the top division and gave us an unlikely FA Cup semi-final appearance against Arsenal, a club he had served with distinction as a player.

The Gunners easily repelled the Wolves challenge at Villa Park but Barnwell had laid the foundation for the following season - a campaign that ranks as the most successful at Molineux over the last 30 years.

To finish sixth in the First Division represented startling progress but to climax the revival with a Wembley triumph in the League Cup was a remarkable achievement.

Just 11 months before the joy of that cup final, Barnwell had suffered life-threatening injuries in an appalling car crash. Remarkably, against all speculation, he returned to management with his characteristic chirpiness, good humour and optimism.

With his assistant Richie Barker, whose role in this era of brief success should never be underestimated, Barnwell recruited the Liverpool veteran Emlyn Hughes during pre-season and then, in early September, sensationally shattered the British transfer record by paying Villa £1.5m for striker Andy Gray.

The transaction was funded almost in its entirety by Steve Daley’s ill-fated move from Molineux to Manchester City, and interest in the club soared.

Gray started like a runaway train; all towering headers, flying elbows and boundless enthusiasm and energy. He helped himself to four goals in his first three games - victories against Everton, Manchester United and Arsenal. It was a breathtaking introduction!

Hughes and Gray were two outstanding footballers and undeniably both of them enjoyed the greatest moments of their careers away from Molineux but this single season was about to make their short association with Wolves more than worthwhile.

Dave Thomas tests Derek Parkin at Turf Moor in 1970. But the winger surprisingly flopped when brought to Molineux.

Later in the season, Barnwell, happily over his harrowing ordeal, thought he had completed the jigsaw by signing the England winger Dave Thomas from Everton.

It seemed like great business at the time. Thomas was lightning fast, tricky and creative, and the prospect of him providing ammunition for an on-fire Gray and the still formidable John Richards was mind-boggling.

In reality, Thomas endured nightmares at Molineux. He was unable to find even a vestige of form and soon drifted out of the team into oblivion. It was a real shame and even now it’s hard to fathom why it all went so sour for such a good player.

With the season barely started, the League Cup was under-way. For obscure reasons, second-round ties were fought out over two legs and, after drawing at Turf Moor, Wolves comfortably dismissed Burnley at Molineux in a low-key affair that hardly stirred the pulses.

Full-back Geoff Palmer somehow scored in both games but, in truth, little major interest was in the air despite the keen affiliation many Wolves fans had with this competition after the success of 1974. In fact, our path to the final was hardly littered with memorable clashes.

The best performance was the 2-1 win at Crystal Palace in the third round. Palace, under a confident Terry Venables, were being dubbed ‘the team of the eighties’ by some of their manager’s cohorts in Fleet Street and Wolves winning at Selhurst Park was certainly not to their liking. Clearly, it annoyed El Tel too. Within weeks, he left Palace for QPR.

In the quarter-final, Wolves took three matches to see off a spirited Grimsby, who had beaten Everton in a previous round.

John Richards is chaired off Molineux after scoring one of the goals with which Wolves overturned Swindon's first-leg lead in the 1980 League Cup semi-final.

And the semi-final, over two legs, saw them struggle big time to pip Third Division Swindon – and the feeling of relief at Molineux after scraping home 4-3 on aggregate was clearly evident.  

Our opponents at Wembley, Nottingham Forest, beat a great Liverpool side in a titanic semi-final and so booked their third consecutive appearance in the final. They were short-odds favourites to make it three wins in a row.

Promoted with Wolves in 1977, they had then left us and just about every other club in their slipstream. Astonishingly, in their initial year back in the First Division, they had won the championship and then fabulously added the European Cup to sit alongside their domination of the League Cup.

Their transformation from obscurity to domination had been remarkable and, at the centre of it all, swaggered the eccentric genius that was their manager Brian Clough.

For those not around at the time, it’s almost impossible to recount the towering public profile he exuded. He transcended football; his deliberately outrageous opinions had the media fawning upon his every word with a mixture of awe, trepidation and deference, the like of which is usually reserved for a reigning monarch.

Clough was virtually able to ‘name his price’ as a TV pundit and would then proceed to offend whoever he liked with brazen impunity. He could be boorish, lavatorily crude or cuttingly critical one moment and charming, perceptive and side-splittingly funny the next.

Back in 1980, in his pomp, he quite simply was ‘Mr Football’ and just about Mr. anything else that took his fancy; and he gloried in his role as miracle worker.

Alongside him was his equally egocentric sidekick, assistant Peter Taylor. Neither for an instant possessed one iota of doubt that Barnwell, Barker or Wolves would stand in their way. We would be chewed up and spat aside like their previous opponents - Clough’s monumental ego demanded no less.

The big entrance: No sign of Cloughie - and Peter Daniel is probably shadowing John Robertson.

As a beaming John Barnwell led Wolves out at Wembley, resplendent in his best suit and as proud as punch, Clough showed his disdain for what to him was the routine of just another final. He allowed trainer Jimmy Gordon to lead out the star-studded Forest outfit.

All cameras trained their lenses towards Cloughie when he emerged from the tunnel and sauntered confidently to the dug-out. He was sporting an open leather coat, so his trademark green goalkeeper top was visible to his expectant audience.

Cup final conventions and etiquettes were not for him. He was a deliberate picture of non-sartorial elegance. But, as he made his theatrical stroll to the bench, the Band of the Queen’s regiment struck up their rendition of ‘Hi Ho Silver Lining’ – later to become a Wolves theme song. It was a hint maybe that this might just be the day of the underdog.

As for the game itself, it was no great spectacle, but it didn’t lack for drama. Barnwell outflanked Clough in one significant area. Peter Daniel was deployed to shadow the manoeuvres of danger man John Robertson on the Forest left wing.

It worked a treat, as did Daniel’s long ball in the second half which caused the fateful Needham/Shilton collision that left Andy Gray with the ultimate in open goals gaping before his very eyes. From the terraces behind the goal, we saw Emlyn Hughes and Willie Carr throw up their arms in celebration before Gray’s left foot applied that memorable finishing touch.

I swear that, exactly as it had done six years earlier when John Richards’ winning shot hit the net, time stopped for a delicious moment. It was an ecstatic experience. And then almost immediately, came the awful realisation that there was so much time remaining. The prospect of getting this far and not winning was panic-inducing.

Paul Bradshaw is well covered by Derek Parkin, George Berry, Mel Eves and match-winner Andy Gray as he denies Dave Needham.

From then until the end, it was like The Alamo. Our goal led a charmed life, although keeper Paul Bradshaw never had to go to the extremes of sustained brilliance that his predecessor Gary Pierce unveiled in 1974.

Even now, 30 years on, when I savour the DVD, I still expect Forest to score. But they didn’t and, when the final whistle mercifully sounded, Robertson was appropriately in possession, with Daniel eyeballing him and jockeying him to the touchline, nullifying his threat to the last second.

The battle was won. And then, bedlam! Cue celebrations that were even wilder than six years previously. Up the steps, Hughes was hugged by our chairman Harry Marshall as he collected the cup.

My mind flashed back to’74 and the haunting look of misery on the face of Peter Swailes, the Manchester City chairman, when Mike Bailey lifted the trophy skywards. Wembley is no venue for losers, even for the Brian Cloughs of this world.

The crowning-glory moment of a great day.

A last word for the captain……Emlyn was a Shankly-inspired Liverpool Red. But I’m glad to recall that, not long before he died, he was among a group of former Wolves players paraded to the fans at half-time during a Molineux fixture.

He was given a fantastic reception that clearly delighted him. The characteristic beaming smile lit up his face as he waved in appreciation. For the fans and no doubt for Hughes himself, memories of a special Wembley occasion flooded back. It was magical, I promise you.

Mick Bradbury points himself out on a 1970s picture showing how big Wolves' playing staff used to be.

Micky Bradbury seemed to have the football world at his feet as a teenage goal machine at Molineux.

He scored five goals on his debut for England Schoolboys, attracted scouts from big clubs far and wide and even shared digs with Graeme Souness during a trial at Tottenham.

But the big time sadly eluded him and, at 54, he looks back instead at a professional life containing 27 years of graft as a postman and, in more recent months, duty as a part-time driver and escort of schoolchildren for Dudley Community Services.

“Of course I’d love to have made it in football and been set up better financially,” he says. “I do regret it in some ways.

“So many of the lads I played with at club and international level went on to have very good careers in the game and it’s natural to think that it could just as easily have been me.

“But there’s no point being bitter about it. I played for various local non-League clubs and made some really good friends, so I enjoyed my football even after I finished with Wolves and England Schoolboys.”

So in demand was Bradbury as a youngster that his father John quit his job as a bus and lorry driver to deal with the stream of big-club representatives.

“I sat in so many directors’ boxes, it was untrue,” he said. “There were always people coming to our house in Smethwick to see Mick and I wanted to be in to answer the door to them.

“Manchester United were after him, so were Birmingham, Albion and Cardiff, and Arsenal even offered to open a bank account for him if he signed there.

“We also had a visit from the Villa chairman in his Bentley and I warned him he was likely to have it pinched if he left it for long!

“They all made their offers and sales pitches and usually ended up by saying: ‘You don’t want him to become a driver like you, do you?’

“I used to go round in an old banger and clubs would promise to sort me out with a decent car if Mick signed for them and, sure enough, I had Joe Gardiner’s old Austin 1300 after he joined Wolves.”

Bradbury the eager teenager......

Bradbury Junior played at centre-forward in an England Schoolboys side also featuring David Price and Brian Hornsby, who carved out good careers at Arsenal, Steve Powell, who served Derby for many years, Dave Donaldson, who made the grade at Millwall, and Billy Rodaway, who totalled around 500 games, many of them for Burnley.

His five goals in a game came against the Republic of Ireland at Bramall Lane and he also scored against Scotland at Wembley and hit a beauty at the same venue against West Germany in an era when such fixtures attracted bumper attendances.

He grew up at Wolves alongside the likes of John Richards, Peter Eastoe, Steve Daley, Alan Sunderland and Barry Powell and once had Geoff Palmer as a lodger when the Cannock-born full-back grew tired of his digs near Molineux.

He went on tour to Zambia and Malawi with the club’s youngsters in 1971 and also visited Italy at a time when his grooming in the Midland Intermediate League and West Midlands League teams led to outings in the reserves.

But he added: “Bill McGarry was always more interested in the first team than the development of lads like me, so I’d play a couple of matches in the Central League and then lose my place to a first-teamer who was on his way back from injury. Don’t forget: The playing staff was about 40-strong in those days.

“I went to the League Cup final in 1974 as a guest of the club but left later that year. Then I had a couple of months with Walsall before going to play for clubs like Oldbury United, Walsall Sportsco and Gornal.

“I enjoyed it, although it was obviously different to the sort of football career I might have had. I thought I had signed for Albion at 13 after Alan Ashman came to the house but I found out I was not registered and I remember going for a look round at Birmingham when Stan Cullis was manager there.

“I didn’t really fancy Manchester United. They wanted a second look at me but there were so many lads having trials there that I said no.

“The club I really wanted to join was Tottenham. Bill Nicholson was the manager and I found Graeme Souness a great bloke. He was a couple of years older than me and looked after me while we were housed together.

Happy memories......

“Unfortunately, my mom thought I was too young to go to London, so I didn’t take it any further.”

Bradbury played nine times for England Schoolboys and once for the country’s under-18 side – against Scotland at Clyde but, having earned £7 a week as an apprentice at Molineux and £35 when he signed as a professional, he didn’t exactly cash in on his exciting potential.

He is now back living with his parents in Rowley Regis and recovering from a broken bone in his leg sustained in a recent fall on the ice.

Dave Clements in recent years - in front of a photo and sartorial souvenir depicting a powerful memory.

In the list of players Wolverhampton Wanderers have allowed to get away over the years – and there have been a few, like Alan Ball, Bob Wilson and Charlie Nicholas - the name of Dave Clements figures high.

The Ulsterman was an apprentice at Molineux in Stan Cullis’ final season there and made it as far as Wolves’ reserve team.

But he was allowed to leave for the princely sum of £1,500 and so embarked on a long and successful first-team career that brought him well over 400 appearances across a decade and a bit with Coventry, Sheffield Wednesday and Everton.

There was also the matter of 48 caps for Northern Ireland – service that was clearly so highly valued that he later had an 11-game run as their manager, starting at the age of only 29.

Clements now lives in Denver and speaks with an American twang, not surprising as it was as far back as 1976 that he first decided to make the States his home when he became a team-mate of Pele’s by joining New York Cosmos.

So how did he come to leave Wolves at a time when their slide from greatness must have left them crying out for the sort of stabilising force he became?

“I was there in my late teens and was in digs with Peter Knowles that were run by a Mrs Southwick,” he told Wolves Heroes. “Another couple of lads were with us – Kevin McMahon and a Jim Conway or Conroy.

“I played a few matches in the reserves but more so for the youth team and A team and remember players like Ken Knighton, Terry Wharton and Peter Broadbent – and Ron Flowers, who was so kind in making me feel comfortable.

“I recall going to train at RAF Cosford because the weather was so bad in the winter of 1963 and, like all kids, I was hopeful of getting on at what was still seen as a big club.

“But I suppose Stan Cullis didn’t think I was going to make the first team, at least not in a significant enough way, so he decided to release me.

“He put a fee on my head, though, and Bill McGarry, who was then Watford’s manager, flew to Belfast to meet me and my dad.

“I was very close to signing but didn’t really want to be so close to London, so, when Jimmy Hill came in from Coventry, I went there instead – and Bill was none too pleased!”

In Sky Blues' colours in the 1960s.

Clements, a left-footed utility man, was a big figure in the Highfield Road revolution, helping the Sky Blues to promotion above runners-up Wolves in 1966-67 and taking his appearance tally for them to 255 as they became established in the top flight.

Hill initially had the former amateur, schoolboy and youth international playing as a goal-scoring left-winger – a position that, at Molineux, was sealed off to all other pretenders by Dave Wagstaffe’s arrival. But that was after Clements had gone and Cullis had subsequently departed.

“It might have been different but I still look back on my Wolves time fondly – and this website has brought back some happy memories,” he added.

“I’m happy that I went on to have a good, long career in the game, in England and the USA, and remember going back to Molineux for my Everton debut (in a 1-1 draw in September, 1973) and crossing for Joe Royle to head in.”

Derek Dougan netted in the same fixture and criss-crossed Europe with the same Northern Ireland team as Clements for many years, the latter’s spell as player-manager starting as Belfast began to stage international matches again following a four-year gap brought on by political unrest.

More success was still to come his way but much further afield. Having accepted a lucrative offer to play with the Cosmos, he was selected for Team America against England, Brazil and Italy in the Bicentenary Cup.

Then he moved into coaching, serving Colorado Caribous, Denver Avalanche, St Louis Steamers and Kansas City Comets and being named US Coach of the Year in 1982 and 1987. But such heights are only part of his American dream.

Clements, now 63, sometimes gave the opinion in his playing days that he found the game as easy as taking sweets off a child. And, if that’s the case, it’s pay-back time now.

Clements in his Everton days.

Having run an Irish shop and worked as a salesman since he left football, he now runs the American arm of the business his brother-in-law set up five years ago; that of introducing the world’s only fully automatic candy floss vending machines.

“We’re trying to get into anywhere where kids are around and it has been going crazy,” he added. “We’ve had a TV feature on the business, Cotton Candy Vending, and we’re making the machines now in Chicago and other places, so life is still very busy.”

Alan Boswell at 65.

By David Instone

Check-list of questions at the ready, I decided to test his reactions in the opening minutes.

Is it correct you were a fanatical trainer? Did you provide your own kit? Was Lev Yashin your hero? Did you live in a pub during your early Wolves career? Would you sometimes wear Army boots for training? Did you keep a joke-book?

The answers came back in double-quick time: Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes and, finally: ‘No, where did you hear that?’

So, it can be confirmed that Alan Boswell, one of the fleetingly seen Wolverhampton Wanderers goalkeepers of the late 1960s, did experiment with normality at an early age and decide it wasn’t for him.

If you think playing only ten senior games for the club barely renders him worthy of such a profile on this website, click elsewhere now. If you’re sticking with it, brace yourself for a barrage of highly opinionated and controversial thoughts, not to say a little self-congratulation.

“Yes, I’m a trappy bast*&d,” he admits, underlining rightaway his liking for industrial language and the fact that his accent remains more Black Country than Shropshire. “People didn’t like me because I was always shouting at my defenders. They thought it was big-headedness, which in a way it was.

“But I’ll tell you this: It’s crap when pundits say the best goalkeepers are those who make the fewest mistakes. The top ones are the ones who work the hardest.

“David James is the best keeper England have had for ten years. And Gomez of Tottenham is a good keeper.

“If you come for two crosses, you’ll probably take two. If you come for 12, you’ll probably take ten and drop two.

“The reason those two have been ridiculed, as Bruce Grobbelaar occasionally was, is because they come for so much and sometimes make a glaring mistake. But they work hard, make a contribution and will earn their teams more points in a season than they will cost them.

“Foreign keepers are the best. People talk about them flapping around when they come for crosses but look at the big four clubs for a start. And once you’ve realised none of them have Englishmen in their goal, tell me how many English keepers have ever gone abroad to play. They don’t want our keepers abroad.”

Thrusting out a gloved hand at Chelsea in December, 1968.

Wow, breathless stuff! Best we have a break before we get stuck into the outfield positions. Let’s talk about those foibles…..

“People thought I was crackers with some of the things I did but I’ve been proved right,” he added. “John Ireland used to cause ructions with Ronnie Allen when he saw me warming up outside the goal area before games and told him that Bert Williams never did that.

“But now loads of keepers do it because having someone lashing the ball past you from ten yards into the net is no use as a warm-up.

“I was doing other things 45 years ago that came to be the norm. I wore big gloves all year round miles ahead of when they became widely seen over here. It was common sense to me to have something that gave you better grip than just your skin.

“My mother and wife would sew them, using table tennis rubber. Keepers were wearing them in Eastern Europe long before they were regularly worn here and I remember going to watch Lev Yashin play at Roker Park in the 1966 World Cup and being so impressed by him.

“I used to buy my own kit. It’s just a habit I got into. I’d buy a bottle green shirt from a high street store and choose my own shorts and socks, which I preferred to be black, like Yashin’s.

“I’d also get some lead and put them into my Army boots when I trained. I resented having to do stamina work because, as a keeper, I’d never get tired during matches but I was so dependent on agility, so I wanted to strengthen my leg muscles.

“If it was good enough for Muhammad Ali, it was good enough for me. The lead weights helped my spring because I had to work so hard and, when games came round, my football boots seemed so light.”

Boswell, brought up in Wednesbury and educated at the same school that Norman Deeley had attended, grew up a Wolves fan, his first trip to Molineux coming when he watched a home game against Arsenal from the back of a packed South Bank in the halcyon years.

His first break, though, came at Walsall, where he played more than 60 games before embarking on the first of 222 League matches for Shrewsbury, the town in which he has lived and worked for around four decades.

When signed by Ronnie Allen for Wolves, he lived in Wednesbury’s Highgate Arms pub – run by his mum – but there are no outward signs of a life spent staving off temptations. 

Although 65, he had just returned from a training run when he invited me in, a pint bottle of milk frequently touching his lips. Okay, there was something from Mr Kipling in the other hand but he still cuts a lean figure and said: “I’ve been 12st 4lb for as long as I can remember.

“Football was my life from ten to 30 and I was a very enthusiastic trainer. There were some great groundstaff lads at Wolves like Alan Sunderland, John McAlle, Steve Daley, Peter Eastoe, Jeff Wealands, Kenny Hibbitt, Rod Arnold and John Farrington, who would have shooting practice with me in the afternoons.

“And when I later joined Bolton, I would offer two bob if youngsters like Sam Allardyce and Peter Reid could beat me with headers. They didn’t really want to be out there but they were skint, so offering them incentives was a way to get them to test me.

Saving Peter Osgood's penalty two minutes after Mike Kenning had put Wolves ahead from the spot at Stamford Bridge. Chelsea later scored from another penalty to salvage a 1-1 draw.

“It doesn’t bother me when people say I was one of the worst keepers Wolves had. I only had ten games (all in 1968-69) for the club and in that time we won at Coventry and Sheffield Wednesday, got a 0-0 draw at the Albion and I won us a point by saving a penalty at Chelsea.

“My best games tended to be away and everyone will remember when we lost 6-0 at home to Liverpool. We defended very poorly that day and they just ran through us. I might have had a chance with a couple of the goals but I shouldn’t take all the blame.

“You need to control the midfield area to dominate a game and we completely lost that battle against Liverpool.”

Hold tight, it’s time for some more powerful thoughts from a man who also also played for Port Vale, Blackburn and Oswestry and who has for virtually all of his 35 post-football years run a business operating juke-boxes, pool tables and one-armed bandits.

“The players I really admire have more than just pure ability,” he added. “They also need football intelligence.

“Bill Shankly used to say that the first two yards were run between your ears and it’s for that reason that I like Berbatov, Scholes, Ronaldinho and the Brazilian Ronaldo. I also think Torres is better than Gerrard because he’s so quick and sharp, and I rated Robbie Keane higher at Wolves than I did Michael Owen at the same time.

“Beckham is a good player but not world-class and Lampard is over-rated. It’s easy to hit passes when you can see the whole pitch. I prefer players who can see all 360 degrees and still pick a pass, like Essien, Mascherano and Alonso. Vidic, Evra and Terry are good players as well.

“At 11, you need a kid’s eyes to show a brightness that tells you they want to learn. The top players are intelligent football-wise and so aware.”

Boswell, his attention initially divided between me and the Cheltenham Festival on TV, now has another distraction.

Agony against Liverpool, especially at the feet of four-goal no 9 Alun Evans.

He has dug from his dustiest drawer a book in which he used to write down all his training schedules.

“Look, I would write down what I did each day, so I could refer to it when I wanted to go back and repeat certain routines. Hang on, there’s a joke written down here – and another. I did keep a joke-book!”

The glove was now on the other hand. Had I heard the one about the Christians and the lions, and did I want to hear about the Pope and the blonde?   

Yes and, er……probably not.