SUNSHINE DAY

Saturday 2nd May 1981 will always go down as a historic day in the history of Swansea City football club. Like so many of the events of those memorable Toshack years, the game took place in bright sunshine, a contrast to the grey skies and driving rain that seem to have formed the backdrop to so many matches in the club’s history.

The meteoric rise and fall of the Swans under John Toshack has been well-documented elsewhere, and few of the club’s fans will be unfamiliar with the tale. Yet for those of us who had withstood the ridicule and continued to support the team through the grim years culminating in the re-election season of 1974-75, the journey to Deepdale was particularly sweet. Could it really be that the Swans, the butt of local comedians humour just a few years earlier, could take that final step and compete against the biggest and most glamorous teams in the land?

For many of us who were there, it was appropriate that the team taking the field that day would include not only Curtis, James and Charles, the trio of young stars coveted by bigger clubs that had formed the home-grown core of the side that had ascended the divisions, but also Wyndham Evans. If ever there was a “man of the people” on the pitch, it was the chunky defender from Llanelli, who had played through the bad times and early revival but had been written off as having any further part to play in the Toshack revolution. Yet it was Wyndham, along with teenage centre back Dudley Lewis who had been instrumental in ensuring that the Swans went into the final match of the season in pole position to clinch a third promotion in four years.

Those who think that Kenny Jackett’s current Swans side underwent a mid-season blip should have been around in the early months of 1981. After surrendering a two goal lead in the final minutes of a classic derby match at Ninian Park, Tosh’s side suffered five straight defeats, and as the club fell down the league table it seemed the promotion dream was over for the season. Injuries and loss of form prompted the manager to start the home game against Bolton in February with Wyndham and Dudley alongside Nigel Stephenson and “Jimmy” Hadziabdic in defence. The 3-0 victory courtesy of a Leighton James hat-trick was to prove a pivotal point in the season.

The unlikely defensive line-up had helped the team put together a run that meant with three games to go the Swans were right back in contention. A spectacular goal by Hadziabdic helped seal a 3-0 win over Chelsea, narrowing the race to three teams for one remaining promotion place. One of those clubs, Luton Town, came to the Vetch the following Tuesday in what was a game in hand for the Swans. A win would leave us needing only a draw in the final match at Preston, and hopes were high as the Swans stormed into a 2-0 first half lead. However, David Pleat’s talented side were in good form and came back to level the scores. Unlike in more recent times, there were few recriminations at the loss of the lead, most fans feeling relieved that a game that could have gone either way finished with a scoreline that extinguished Luton’s chance of promotion.

The position going into the final match at Preston was simple. Win and the Swans were up. Anything less would leave us dependent on the outcome of Blackburn’s final game. Around 10,000 Swans fans made the long journey north, the M5 and M6 motorways being filled with a convoy of vehicles bearing black and white scarves and banners. Fate had determined that Blackburn were away at Bristol Rovers, and the opposite lanes of the motorway were full of blue and white clad fans travelling with similar hopes and fears.

Deepdale had become a little corner of South West Wales for the afternoon, and black and white colours could be seen on three sides of the ground, and in particular in the covered end behind the goal the Swans attacked in the first half. Thousands bounced on the ancient terrace, peering for a view from the under the dark cover onto the bright sunlit pitch through the tall security fences that were typical of football grounds of the era. The collective tension was so real you could almost touch it. The club were so near yet so far to the prize that had always eluded even teams including such illustrious names as Allchurch, Jones, Medwin and Paul. Superstition was rife as fans sported tatty looking lucky scarves or some other equally dubious good luck charm. We hoped with all our hearts that we were about to witness something historic.

Within minutes the tension was eased as the ball fell to Leighton James on the left wing. The Loughor born player beat a man and cut inside before unleashing a spectacular twenty-five yard shot into the top corner of the net, sending the Swans fans into delirium. A few minutes later the joy was doubled as the ball fell to the feet of Tommy Craig some six yards from goal and the little Scot made no mistake. The club now surely had one foot in the first division. This was looking as if it should be an easy and straightforward victory. Why had we all been so nervous?

In the second half we were reminded as to why. Had we really forgotten that this was Swansea City, and that things are seldom straightforward. Preston needed a win to avoid relegation, and ironically demote Cardiff City in their place. With little to lose at 2-0 down, they came out for the second half and attacked with a vengeance. Suddenly the Swans looked nervous and vulnerable, a shadow of the side that had dominated the first half. The attacking verve of the opening forty-five minutes was gone, and the ball seemed magnetically attracted to the Swans half. Yet surely our two goal cushion would be enough?

Some people say that a two goal lead is the most difficult to protect, and mid way through the half Preston scored. Dave Stewart was a popular figure with the Swans support, but the goalkeeper was culpable as he dropped a looping cross and Preston’s Alex Bruce hammered home the loose ball. News circulated that Blackburn were ahead at Eastville. We needed to hang on and win, or the season would end in failure, the long trek north would have been to witness an anti-climax, a miss as good as a mile.

Minutes that seemed like hours ticked by as Preston’s attacks grew more incessant. How could we be so dominated by such relegation fodder, a team that had been played off the park in the first half? Our players were probably asking themselves the same question as they struggled to stem the tide.

Then came the moment when ten thousand hearts stopped. The increasingly nervous Stewart came for a cross but missed the ball, which flew off a Preston head in the direction of our goal. We waited for the net to ripple, for the triumphant roar of the home support, for that sickening blow to the stomach, for the urge to fight back tears and the thoughts of “if only”. For that split second it seemed that the world stopped.

Then the ball bounced back from the security fence. They’d missed! It had gone wide! Glory be! Hosannah in the highest! If you have never heard ten thousand people sigh collectively before, this was the moment. Suddenly there were smiles on faces, and a communal feeling of escape. Even a shot blazed over the Swans bar shortly after couldn’t dampen this new found feeling of well-being. We’d got lucky!

If this were not enough, the Swans suddenly worked the ball to Alan Curtis on the right. He beat his man and slipped the ball to the supporting Robbie James. With Preston over-committed to attack, Robbie spotted Jeremy Charles free on his outside. The pass was duly delivered and Charlo smacked home the goal that released us all form our torture. The Swans were going up!

The final minutes passed without any further scares, and as the referee blew for time a huge roar exploded from the Swansea support that could probably have been heard down the road in Blackpool. The Swans bench charged on to the pitch, Tosh famously heading straight for Dudley Lewis to hug the baby of the team who had finished the season playing like a seasoned pro. All around, Swans players were embracing. With the security fences meaning that a pitch invasion was never a possibility, the players cavorted behind the goal with the celebrating support. The two-tone blue away kit was instantly established as an all-time classic. Once again the Swans had come out victorious in a last match drama.

For those of us who were there, it is scarcely believable that twenty-five years have passed. There were to be some great days ahead over the following twelve months, but supporting the Swans was soon enough to return to a rather more mundane reality peppered by the odd success. Yet as we made the long drive south that glorious early summer evening, passing coachloads of dejected Blackburn fans returning home in the opposite direction, it seemed life couldn’t get much sweeter. The sun was shining, the Swans were up and in Tosh’s hands it seemed anything was possible.                                                                                     

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