I was an 18 year old looking for something or somebody to come along to inspire me and help shape my life. I had been a regular Gooner for eight years and during that time I was fed a complete diet of dross, although the 1968 League Cup Final meant my first trip to Wembley. I had no idea what to expect first time around and to go away defeated didn't mean total disappointment.

The following year expectations were higher; we had a better team and made the League Cup Final for the second successive year. Also, the opposition was only Swindon from the old Third Division. We ended up under-performing again on a pitch that had not recovered from Horse of the Year show and it all ended in tears.

But reaching the final meant entry into the European Fairs Cup in 1969-70. I have vague memories of the games against Glentoran, Sporting Portugal, Rouen and Dinamo Bacau but I never really harboured any thoughts that we could actually win the thing. We had all heard of Ajax and I recall well the 3-0 in the semi-final 1st leg at Highbury, the atmosphere was incredible with the Dutch supporters playing a big part.

I seem to remember trying to get radio bulletins of the first leg in the final and when we were 3-0 down, I recalled the semi-final thinking that there would be no way back. The Ray Kennedy "consolation" goal, however, proved to be a major springboard in the second leg and this may have been the cause of such a huge positive buzz around the ground before the start. Funnily enough, the only time I ever experienced something like this again was on the run-up to our home leg Champions League semi-final in 2009 (best forgotten…)

I took my place in the centre of a packed-out North Bank, which was a cauldron of noise, reverberating off the old tin roof. Our 11 players all totally looked up to the task, which took place on a bog of a pitch. Memories of the previous year at Wembley returned but were quickly forgotten about half way through the first half when Eddie Kelly struck at the Clock End.

Half-time conversation centred around the fact that we only needed one more goal (shades of Anfield nearly 20 years later). As the second half progressed I started to get more and more worried that this goal would never come, but then Bob McNab pinged over an amazing cross from the left on to the head of my super hero John Radford, who never looked like missing.

Cue total pandemonium. Oh why have we forgotten how to score goals like this in recent years? Whilst we were all still celebrating, Jon Sammels took advantage of some woeful defending and found himself in the box with a clear shooting opportunity. "Hot shot Sammels" duly did the rest with one of his trademark belts.

Sheer bliss at the sound of the final whistle and like thousands of others I found my way on to the pitch for the only time of my life. After running around like a mad thing for a few minutes I found myself close to Frank McLintock who had been raised aloft by supporters with Frank happily waving the Fairs Cup trophy in the air.

Then it was back to the pub for a few pints of draught Double Diamond before the major dampener on the night. The ITV highlights were appalling (no change there as 40 years later it is still garbage).

However, we had actually won something in my lifetime. Brilliant!! Little did I know what was in store for the following season…