It might not have had the glamour of some cup finals, but for me the John Player success in 1984 was one of my most memorable days supporting Leeds.
There was drama- on the field and off it when we lost half the family- snow and food, for me the perfect combination! We had a feeling that we might win, but the weather in the week leading up to the match had been pretty abysmal and we thought that might favour their bigger pack, especially as we relied on the artistry of our backs like John Holmes, David Creasser and Dean Bell.
The weather and a fairly sizeable contingent from Leeds made slow going to Central Park because of debris on the M62 after a night of howling gales. Parking round the ground there had always been notoriously difficult and everyone was trying to get as near as possible as kick-off time approached without success. Usually we got a space behind the Working Men’s club opposite the ground but we were forced further towards town into a road we hardly knew.
Because we could hear the roar as we locked up and grabbed our flasks, we took little notice of our bearings, the younger ones amongst us running for the turnstiles at full pelt. We caught our first glimpse of the pitch just as Widnes scored their first try right in front of us with the opening attack.
We had intended to get shelter but because we were late we ended up standing on the open terrace behind the posts, one of which had snapped from the winds of the previous night. It was an unfamiliar position but we soon found a knot of Leeds fans and began singing just as the boys started to hit back with some wonderful rugby to take the lead.
The second half was a brutal affair as the forwards literally slugged it out at times. Mark Laurie was like a giant that day mowing down the beefier Widnes forwards with copybook tackling which was a trademark of the Australian game and an eye-opener for British fans.
As the game wore on and Leeds resolutely attacked the end we were at our jeering of the Widnes played for their over-zealous tactics got louder and more intense. Just before the end, with Leeds holding on, their prop Steve O’Neill was sin-binned and we vented all our pent up spleen on him as he ran down the tunnel next to us.
The fact that the Loiners had won in the face of extreme intimidation made the victory so much sweeter. We cheered the lap of honour and walked slowly back to the car as the sky clouded over, dissecting the match. Unfortunately, because of the rush to get in, a couple of our party had lost their bearing completely and we stood around for nearly an hour frantically looking for them.
Eventually they appeared on the horizon in completely the wrong direction having left the ground by the wrong entrance and we set off. It was virtually dark and deserted as we wended our way through Westhoughton and when the snow began to fall it was thick and settled immediately.
By the time we joined the motorway, the outside lane was covered and impassable. I have always loved the snow and in defiance of its worst we stuck our scarves out of the window and ploughed on towards Leeds as it became nearly impassable over the top of the Pennines. Getting through was almost as nerve-wracking as watching the game.
When we finally made it into the centre of Leeds, the city was almost deserted because of the weather but we decided we had to mark the occasion of Leeds winning a trophy.
We were famished by now and decided that we would treat ourselves to the best meal we could afford. We ended up at the Skanda in the Merrion Centre that boasted the biggest mixed grill in town. We did it justice washed down with a few beers and then set off down Merrion Street for a massive snowball fight. The perfect end to a memorable day.
David Townsend
Originally published in 'Headingley Rugby Voices' Recollections of supporters, compiled by Phil Caplan.
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Memory added on November 26, 2012
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