zod wrote:
Defending?
I thought it was a decent assist with the cheeky back-heel.
Tre Cool wrote:Can't believe noone's posted this on the 20th anniversary of Sir Liam Lawrence day.
11am kick off if I remember rightly. I remember my 15 year old self running down saltergate waving my scarf around and getting some abuse!
[tweet]http://twitter.com/mansfieldtownfc/status/1615755912693616640?s=20&t=3XYfiNnHsb27gcFpe4MFPg[/tweet]
Not sure how to embed though I am pasting the link between the [tweet] tags
yorkshire stag wrote:that feeling behind the goal when the ball went in……wow will live with me forever
part time pete wrote:I suppose Sir Calvin day and Sir Mal day come close, but I think Sir Liam day beats them because the winner was so late.
Oladamber66 wrote:What a game it had everything fantastic atmosphere.. always ferocious rivalry the turning point was the Shane Bradley sending off for spitting at Rhys day what a dick !!! Disley’s equaliser but Sir Liam of Lawrence heading the winner sent the stags fan wild in the dying minutes ..pure stags joy
Sneag wrote:part time pete wrote:I suppose Sir Calvin day and Sir Mal day come close, but I think Sir Liam day beats them because the winner was so late.
I prefer Sir Mal day just for the lasting harm it did them.
It's a pity there isn't any video of Sir Keith Cassells Day from 1989. Where Sir Keith scored, then went in nets fora laugh & we still won 3-1.
Steve North wrote:It was truly the finest of days and one of the best footballing memories I will have. It astounds me that 20 years have gone by so quickly and yet I can still transport myself back and have that feeling of nervousness, excitement and anticipation, even now 20 years later.
There are games which we can acknowledge as local derbies, like Notts County or Lincoln or Doncaster maybe, and for all the excitement those games generate, they cannot get close to the feeling of Mansfield v Chesterfield. It is special. It can make you feel ill it is so intense.
Me and my wife were staying at the Lace Market hotel that weekend. It was my birthday on the 17th and my wife’s on the 18th Jan. Furthermore, my wife had just discovered she was pregnant with our first and only child and we were having a weekend in Nottingham to celebrate our birthdays. I want to say that it was an early kick off so we had an early start and drive back up the A60 to Mansfield to pick my mum up and then having driven over to Chesterfield we got into the ground early. I remember exchanging messages with my brother in law, a Chesterfield fan, who confidently told me that we were going to get battered. I felt incredibly nervous, but at the same time I also had a feeling we might just do it. We might just win this game.
I remember Chesterfield starting ok, but Matt Gadsby and Rhys Day looked comfortable and we were coping ok. And then disaster. A seemingly harmless cross comes in and the ball hits Matt Gadsby’s arm. Harsh. Penalty. 1-0 Chesterfield. Here we go again. I had been there at our Sep 2000 capitulation. But this was different. We looked determined and we weren’t rattled. I think it was just before half time. A series of backwards headers, a cross and Disney takes one touch with the outside of his boot and aims his shot and it’s in the back of the net and he celebrates in front of the Kop. In front of those silent Chesterfield fans. And they stare on in disbelief, and Wayne Cordon comes over to join in with the celebrations and they are winding up the Kop.
And in the away stand, we are up on our feet and we are falling over and there are arms and limbs everywhere and my mum is a 73 year old and she is going mental and having the time of her life and my wife is up on her feet and I feel like we can do this. We have a game on our hands now.
There are just 3 things I recall from the 2nd half. For the first 10 minutes or so Chesterfield come at us a bit more but without really creating anything of note, but my anxiety levels are shooting up. Will they score and if so can we come back again. Secondly, Shane Bradley comes on for Chesterfield to an enormous chorus of boos and abuse. And the pivotal moment of the game - the referee stops the match to speak with the assistant and then shows Bradley a straight Red card. Bradley has to endure the humiliation and abuse as he walks off the pitch having only been on for a matter of minutes.
I remember thinking at this point that this game is now within our grasp, it is there for the taking. We just need to hold our nerve and chances will come. And they did, but still the goal did not come. And then deep into injury time we get a free kick. This is the final chance of the game. It all happens in slow motion of course. These moments always do don’t they. The ball comes back across the goal and Lawrence gets his head to it and somehow it finds its way through the arms and legs and outstretched hands and it’s in the net and we are celebrating and it feels amazing and we look across at their supporters and they already know the game is up. They can’t comeback from that. And the referee blows the final whistle. It’s all over. And we win and the celebrations are legendary and the best. And my dear old mum cannot stop talking all the way back to Mansfield and I have to smile because football is like that. Only football can make you feel this joyous. This unrestrained. Only the drama and jeopardy of football gets you like this.
And over the past 20 years I have lost count of how many dull and tedious meetings I’ve been sat in where i stare into space and just allow my mind to wander back to that amazing January day and the joy of that last minute goal. Knowing that the Stags haven’t beaten our most fierce rivals and I’m going to be a dad. Life is amazing, isn’t it.
I also think about Matt Gadsby, God rest his soul, who tragically collapsed and died playing the game he loved at 27 years old.
And my son is now 19 years old and up the University of Manchester and playing football at Uni, and God, it makes me feel old. 20 years passes by quickly these days does it not my friends.
Showaddywaddy wrote:Sneag wrote:part time pete wrote:I suppose Sir Calvin day and Sir Mal day come close, but I think Sir Liam day beats them because the winner was so late.
I prefer Sir Mal day just for the lasting harm it did them.
It's a pity there isn't any video of Sir Keith Cassells Day from 1989. Where Sir Keith scored, then went in nets fora laugh & we still won 3-1.
The Sir Keith Cassells game was my first Stags v Spireites derby, I was 8 years old. I can remember big George squaring up to the even bigger Andy Morris, I think there’s a photo of that somewhere.
Keith Cassells was my first Stags hero and I was gutted that he retired at the end of the season. One day during the summer holidays a knock came on our front door and it was Keith Cassells. My dad had wrote to him to ask if he’d let me have something autographed, so he delivered an autographed photo himself and had a kick about with me on our back garden. To this day I have still not been as awe struck as I was then.
NEStag wrote:I enjoyed that Steve, thanks. You write very well.
Billy the fish wrote:NEStag wrote:I enjoyed that Steve, thanks. You write very well.
Brilliant Steve North ..
Rob wrote:Showaddywaddy wrote:Sneag wrote:part time pete wrote:I suppose Sir Calvin day and Sir Mal day come close, but I think Sir Liam day beats them because the winner was so late.
I prefer Sir Mal day just for the lasting harm it did them.
It's a pity there isn't any video of Sir Keith Cassells Day from 1989. Where Sir Keith scored, then went in nets fora laugh & we still won 3-1.
The Sir Keith Cassells game was my first Stags v Spireites derby, I was 8 years old. I can remember big George squaring up to the even bigger Andy Morris, I think there’s a photo of that somewhere.
Keith Cassells was my first Stags hero and I was gutted that he retired at the end of the season. One day during the summer holidays a knock came on our front door and it was Keith Cassells. My dad had wrote to him to ask if he’d let me have something autographed, so he delivered an autographed photo himself and had a kick about with me on our back garden. To this day I have still not been as awe struck as I was then.
If ever the expression "graced our shirt" applied to anyone it was Keith, fine player, fine human being..
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