When Manchester United were a nation’s darlings – and Wolves found out why
Let’s call it the Smash Hits double. In that beloved pop magazine’s annual poll it was not unusual for artists to be voted the best and worst in the same category. It happened three times in 1989 alone: Bros (best/worst group), Kylie Minogue (female solo singer) and Jason Donovan (male solo singer).
For the past few decades, Manchester United have had a similar relationship with popularity – the best-supported club in England but also the most hated. Yet there was a time in the mid-1970s when their young team were the darlings of the nation.
No game demonstrated their appeal or ability better than the FA Cup replay at Wolves in March 1976, the last time the two clubs met in the quarter-finals of the competition. It belongs in that second tier of classic matches – the ones that time forgot but which still coruscate in the minds of those who were there.
David Lacey, in his Guardian match report, reckoned it was the best Cup tie he had seen since Nottingham Forest beat Everton at the same stage nine years earlier. United, despite being the away side, attacked throughout, with Wolves using their unusual combination of long balls and counterattacks. That brought them goals in the 19th and 20th minutes, from Steve Kindon and John Richards respectively.
Occasionally goals do not change games. The pattern of the match continued exactly as before, and Stuart Pearson completed a game of head tennis to make it 2-1 at half-time. “Manchester,” wrote Lacey, “did not so much break down the Wolverhampton defence as erode it.”
United had been in the Second Division the previous season but were chasing the club’s first Double – at the time of the Wolves match they were two points behind the league leaders, Queens Park Rangers, with two games in hand. But it was their style of play that brought most comment. “Most observers were happy to delight in the return of simple, almost forgotten pleasures,” wrote Richard Kurt in the Red Army Years, his definitive account of United in the 1970s. “Virtually every match report of the time marvelled at the spirit, the attacking verve and the collective pace of Tommy Docherty’s apprentices. They may, supposedly, have been heading for a fall, but what jollies the audiences were getting from watching the sparkling dash to the cliff’s edge.”
Their daredevilry was symbolised by the two wingers, Steve Coppell and Gordon Hill. Coppell was a thrillingly direct right winger, who at his best was unplayable. On the left Hill was a cockney cult hero full of mischief and flair, who beat opponents with sleight of mind and hip, never mind foot. Both were bought from Third Division clubs, and it was the purchase of Hill in November 1975 that finally allowed Docherty to play his dream 4-2-4 formation. It was an antidote to the increased pragmatism of English football and a throwback to more innocent days.
The I-word, more than any other, was used to describe United. The team that finished the match at Wolves had an average age of 24 and that included a 33-year-old keeper in Alex Stepney. The attacking sextet had an average age of 21 and were subject to the unique goodwill that comes from watching a load of talented kids having the time of their life. “All United sides since, and those who aspire to United-esque ideals,” wrote Kurt, “can be judged against the ambition and purity that lay behind this 4-2-4 team.”
In the second half Coppell skinned the left-back, Derek Parkin, and drove a low cross that ricocheted around the area before Brian Greenhoff scored from close range. The match was not one-way traffic – Wolves were a threat on the break and smacked the post twice in a pulsating match – but United created a stream of chances and there was a sense of inevitability about Sammy McIlroy’s extra-time winner. “We weren’t really bothered about being 2-0 down,” said Coppell. “Really. We just knew we were better than them.”
United’s dynamism and relentless optimism was without compare in English football at the time. The concept of defeat triggered a collective cognitive dissonance, and the team treated every match as if it were one long high-intensity sprint. “You have to be fit just to watch our team,” said the United assistant manager Tommy Cavanagh.”
There are some parallels with the modern United. The club had lost their way, and their identity, after the retirement of Sir Matt Busby before Docherty established a joyous reconnection with the past. In this case it went beyond the mood and style of play: in the mid-1960s the great team of Best, Charlton and Law had come back from 2-0 down to win an FA Cup tie at Wolves in consecutive seasons.
The 1976 comeback is the signature game of one of the most exhilarating United teams of all, and almost all who were there list it among their most euphoric experiences. Michael Crick, the Channel 4 political correspondent, was among the reported 20,000 or so away fans at the game. “That night at Molineux was to exemplify the spirit of a United side for whom opposition goals were only an incitement to play even better,” he says. “Thousands streamed down the M6, red and white scarves trailing from the back windows of every car. I diverted via Warrington for some reason, but my diary says I was then lucky enough to get a lift from a United fan who offered to do the return journey too.
“United fans packed the huge open south bank, looking down on the extraordinary sloping wooden stand to our right. Floodlit matches in the dark always had an extra buzz. I sang from start to finish and in those days often managed to start the songs myself. I was completely hoarse by the end.”
One song was belted out with particular gusto. “Two-nil down, three-two up, now we’re gonna win the Cup.”
But they didn’t. The potential Double turned to dust, with Liverpool winning the league – the start of 14 years of misery for United – and Second Division Southampton famously beating United in the FA Cup final. Docherty’s team returned to Wembley a year later to beat Liverpool, denying them a treble, but he was sacked in the summer because of his relationship with Mary Brown, the wife of the club physio.
The team never fulfilled their potential – Gerry Daly had already been sold and Hill went soon after, with the new manager, Dave Sexton, preferring the kind of cautious, considered football Docherty loathed. Sexton’s United were also loved by neutrals but only for how bad they were.
There can be a tendency to think great performances or results in the Cup are truly validated only if you go on to win the thing. The United fans who were at Molineux in March 1976 will respectfully disagree. A night like that lasts forever.
www.theguardian.com/football/2019/mar/15/manchester-united-wolves-fa-cup-molineux-1976-classic-tommy-docherty?CMP=share_btn_tw
