Steaming In: Journal of a Football Fan by Colin Ward (Simon & Schuster 1989)

The first half and the fairy tale continued. Leatherhead went two-nil ahead with Kelly scoring one, making the other goal and generally tormenting Leicester without mercy. At half-time all that could be seen was the 'Kelly Shuffle' and the drinking (and spilling) of beer. In the second half the slaughter continued for a while. Kelly went round the goalkeeper and should have scored, but the ball was stopped on the line. I can still close my eyes and remember him going round the Leicester keeper and shouting 'Goal!' I don't think Leicester would have come back from three-nil down, but as it was this was the turning point of the match. Leicester scored, then destroyed a tiring Leatherhead, finally winning three-two. Nevertheless, the cheers at the end were all for Leatherhead. We left the ground disappointed but privileged to have witnessed one of the greatest performances ever by an amateur team.

Leicester fans approached Leatherhead fans in the street, shaking their hands and saying 'Great match' and 'Cor, what a game.' Had we won the match it is more likely that they would have been waiting to smash our heads in. In an instant, we would have been transformed from the quaint amateur team who had provided entertainment into the bastards who had humiliated and knocked Leicester out of the FA Cup.

A crowd of over 37,000 had witnessed the game and those present will never forget it. To this day everyone who was there talks about Kelly's miss. That night on Match of the Day on BBC 1 Jimmy Hill interviewed Chris Kelly. 'We'll be back next year, Jimmy,' said Chris - although sadly this was not to be. Nevertheless, Leatherhead have the proud record of never having lost to a professional team on their own ground, and have since beaten Cambndge United and drawn with Colchester United and Swansea City.

Soccer Focus: reflections on a changing game by John Moynihan (Sportspages 1989)

Sans Blanchflower: a Rout in Barfleur

The population of the charming, gusty Normandy fishing hamlet of Barfleur, near Cherbourg, were convinced they had a famous Irish footballer in their midst. Every shop window round the pretty port blazed with posters declaring Danny Blanchflower would be playing for a less famous football team, Battersea Park de Londres, in a football tournament at the Stade Louis-Debrix.

Veteran, storm-gnarled fishermen hovered over their fourth glass of Calvados and inquired where 'Denny Blunchfleur' was to be found in Barfleur. 'No, sorry,' the English squad members sadly admitted — it had all been a tragic mistake.

The official club handout, sent from a Notting Hill basement with facts about this ubiquitous and decidedly bohemian Sunday club, had mentioned that Danny Blanchflower had turned out once for them in 1966 but had said nothing about him coming to Barfleur. 'He's an awfully busy man, you know. He loves his golf, too.'

The proud Normans wouldn't believe it. 'Monsieur Blunchfleur' was surely limbering up somewhere as Battersea's secret weapon. He was known to the actual squad members on beery duty as 'Danny Baking Powder'. He was certainly going to play for the English team who, according to the locals, would hammer their lads that very afternoon.

It was one of the many charming misunderstandings which tend to happen on these zealous little football tours across the Channel. This was Battersea's third French tour, and, like the previous ones, they didn't win a match; on this occasion they did not score a goal either.