Do you remember the first time?
I can't remember a worse time
But you know that we've changed so much since then
Oh yeah,
We've grown
Great band, great song. Those of us of an age will almost certainly remember the ‘first time’ when it comes to playoffs against The Blades. Our first ever playoff, come to that. Losing our playoff virginity. Hopefully, most folk’s first experience of sex will have been less traumatising.
We’d bounced back from relegation twice, getting it done the neat and tidy way with automatic. In 93-94, we’d been well behind Champions Palace, but well ahead of 3rd placed Millwall. A relatively sedate passage back into the Premier League. That year, Leicester won the playoffs and have never really looked back. Similarly to this season, we made a ropey start - two wins from the first nine, still struggling come November.
In 97-98, we finished as champions, 3 points ahead of Boro and 4 clear of 3rd placed Sunderland, the goal scoring exploits of Pierre van Hooijdonk and Kevin Campbell featuring prominently.
The 3rd relegation, the one which saw us into this painful, extended run in the void saw no such bounce. We had the two years under David Platt - expensive and shite. The first included a spectacular October/November with 6 defeats in 7 matches. Barnsley, Norwich, Huddersfield, Tranmere, Palace and Ipswich, since you ask. We finished 14th, nearer relegation than the playoffs, in front of crowds that dipped as low as 14 or 15 thousand (13,841 v Pompey, being the lowest). The second Platt season was a marginal improvement coming in at 11th, enjoying predictable defeats to such luminaries as Crewe, Gillingham and Wimbledon en route.
Then followed a thoroughly mediocre year under Paul Hart, plodding along to 16th and scoring very few goals while we were about it (50, all in). Low point of this, probably having the double (deservedly) done over us by Walsall.
2002-3 saw a real improvement. Marlon Harewood, David Johnson and Jack Lester gave us a bit of an edge up front. Johnno and Marlon scored nearly as many league goals between them (47) as we’d managed all the prevous season. We had Dessie back playing regularly and Jon Olaf Hjelde was a more than capable sidekick for him. A young Michael Dawson was coming through too. Darren Huckerby, Eugen Bopp, David Prutton, Riccardo Scimeca, Mathieu Louis-Jean and more - all decent players.
We finished 6th, 4 points ahead of Ipswich, despite only two wins in the last 5 games. A thrilling 4-3 away win at Portman Road in early April helping considerably. We’d done the double over them in fact. Sheffield United, under Colin Wanker, had looked a decent team throughout the season - pretty typically Wankeresque in terms of physicality and shithousery, but capable of some lovely football too. We’d beaten them 3-0 at home relatively early on and then lost 1-0 at Bramall Lane in April. They'd finished 6 points ahead of us, but a whopping 18 behind champs Portsmouth and runners-up Leicester.
The prospect of a playoff all seemed very exciting and modern. The prospect of a trip to the final at the Millennium Stadium seemed very realistic. It still seemed fairly realistic in fact after the surprisingly tame 1-1 draw at the City Ground. The first half was goal-less, though Marlon hit the bar and they missed a complete sitter. About an hour in, Johnno got onto an Andy Reid pass and put us one up. The lead lasted all of two minutes, after Louis-Jean had founded Michael Brown, who put the resulting penalty away. Crucially, Michael Dawson was sent off late on and hence unavailable for the 2nd leg.
I’d not been able to get a ticket, so for reasons that elude me now ended up watching the 2nd leg in the Lady Bay, which was predictably heaving. We definitely started as underdogs, but came out of the traps strongly. Johnno put us ahead and Andy Reid volleyed us into a two nil lead sometime around an hour in. Pandemonium in the pub.
No sooner were we two up though, than Michael Brown took a free kick which was deflected big-time on its way netward. Steve Kabba scored a truly fantastic volley to level. Cue extra time, Now rather edgy in the pub.
22 minutes into extra time and Paul Peschisolido went on one of his trademark jinking runs and put us behind for the first time in the whole tie. Just to really cap a cruel night, Des managed to nod home an own goal past Darren Ward at the near post. A late consolation own goal wasn’t actually any consolation and we were out 5-4 on one of the most exciting, remarkable, painful nights of football you will ever endure. Or just one of the all time favourite classics if you happen to be a Blade.
Despite all that, and the Scab, Scab, Scab thing, I quite like Sheffield United as a club. Tony Currie, Len Badger, Alan Woodward, three sided ground, Trevor Hockey’s beard and his legendary velvet-covered Triumph Vitesse, Greasy Chip Butty song (big fan, I confess). There’s the same edge there that many visitors enjoy about coming to our place and, while we could do without the unpleasant fringe that repeatedly kick off indiscriminately outside afterwards, you can’t hold that against everyone concerned.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fNXfj08cnQ8 - highlights here, if you can stand it!
So, does that all have any bearing on this year’s playoff? Other than that horrible, queasy feeling and the negative mindset in supporters prone to that (ie me!), then no. We’re almost twenty years on. None of the playing staff will even remember it and many supporters won‘t either. The present, although linked to the past of course, is in this case independent of it.
That said and accepted, you can’t then have the we’re-due-it by the law of averages or ‘our luck must change’ arguments either. If the previous playoffs are unconnected to this one, then this stands entirely on its own two-feet. It’ll be what it’ll be. Hopefully we’ll come through to round off a remarkable turnaround. If it doesn’t, we should all still be here to try again next season.
Nice one peeveeh!