The man Between THE POSTS for Manchester United on the night of 29 May 1968 certainly didn’t stint on his praise, describing this goal as no less than “the most important in United’s history”. But Alex Stepney should give himself at least some of the credit for such a meaningful moment for the club: if it hadn’t been for his late save from one of the greatest strikers of all time, George Best would never have got the opportunity.
But we should rewind a bit. Let’s start with the hours preceding the European Cup final at Wembley, which United’s players spent watching the Epsom Derby on telly. “There were a few bets flying around and it was quite relaxing,” said Stepney. Best was similarly laidback, emboldened by the prospect of “90 minutes of pure magic, us hammering them”. The reality was a little different.
The first factor was the heat: it was a sultry, sopping evening in London. Once the game got going, it wasn’t long before United’s navy blue change kit was rendered even darker by the sheer amount of sweat pouring off the players. Perhaps that’s why the first half finished goalless: all perspiration, no end product.
Eight minutes into the second half, a breakthrough: Bobby Charlton with a looping header that sailed into the bottom corner. Eleven minutes from the final whistle, a riposte: Jaime Graça with the leveller on the half-volley.
Extra time beckoned. But then there was Eusébio, Benfica’s lithe, astonishingly prolific forward, wriggling free of the strait-jacket imposed by Nobby Stiles. He launched a jackhammer of a shot – but there was Stepney, standing tall and using his chest to first stop the ball, then smother it. The Portuguese striker patted the goalkeeper on the back and even afforded him a small round of applause; it should have been 2-1, game over.
But it wasn’t – there was more. Benfica in the hunt for their third European Cup; United still craving their first. In the break before extra time got under way, Matt Busby issued his instructions on the pitch. This was his decade-long quest driven by a yearning to honour the eight players and three staff members, along with 12 more people, who perished in the Munich air disaster; he had, in truth, been perilously close to death himself.
Now the Scottish manager stooped to talk to his players, who were sprawled at his feet; club officials, dressed in suits, joined training staff to urgently administer massages to dehydrated bodies. Legend has it that midfielder Paddy Crerand, raising his voice above the throng, observed, “We might look tired but look at that lot over there.”
The man Between THE POSTS for Manchester United on the night of 29 May 1968 certainly didn’t stint on his praise, describing this goal as no less than “the most important in United’s history”. But Alex Stepney should give himself at least some of the credit for such a meaningful moment for the club: if it hadn’t been for his late save from one of the greatest strikers of all time, George Best would never have got the opportunity.
But we should rewind a bit. Let’s start with the hours preceding the European Cup final at Wembley, which United’s players spent watching the Epsom Derby on telly. “There were a few bets flying around and it was quite relaxing,” said Stepney. Best was similarly laidback, emboldened by the prospect of “90 minutes of pure magic, us hammering them”. The reality was a little different.
The first factor was the heat: it was a sultry, sopping evening in London. Once the game got going, it wasn’t long before United’s navy blue change kit was rendered even darker by the sheer amount of sweat pouring off the players. Perhaps that’s why the first half finished goalless: all perspiration, no end product.
Eight minutes into the second half, a breakthrough: Bobby Charlton with a looping header that sailed into the bottom corner. Eleven minutes from the final whistle, a riposte: Jaime Graça with the leveller on the half-volley.
Extra time beckoned. But then there was Eusébio, Benfica’s lithe, astonishingly prolific forward, wriggling free of the strait-jacket imposed by Nobby Stiles. He launched a jackhammer of a shot – but there was Stepney, standing tall and using his chest to first stop the ball, then smother it. The Portuguese striker patted the goalkeeper on the back and even afforded him a small round of applause; it should have been 2-1, game over.
But it wasn’t – there was more. Benfica in the hunt for their third European Cup; United still craving their first. In the break before extra time got under way, Matt Busby issued his instructions on the pitch. This was his decade-long quest driven by a yearning to honour the eight players and three staff members, along with 12 more people, who perished in the Munich air disaster; he had, in truth, been perilously close to death himself.
Now the Scottish manager stooped to talk to his players, who were sprawled at his feet; club officials, dressed in suits, joined training staff to urgently administer massages to dehydrated bodies. Legend has it that midfielder Paddy Crerand, raising his voice above the throng, observed, “We might look tired but look at that lot over there.”
Sure enough, extra time was only two minutes old when, entirely unannounced, history arrived.
The build-up was innocuous enough: out-on-their-feet full-backs Tony Dunne and Shay Brennan were taking it in turns to pass the ball straight back to Stepney when he threw it out to them. Understanding the implied message, the keeper punted the ball downfield. Brian Kidd, who was celebrating his 19th birthday, leapt to apply the slightest of flicks.
Quick as a flash, there was Best. He reached the ball ahead of Jacinto Santos, the Benfica defender momentarily rash in missing a wild clearing kick; now the United No7 had a clear run on goal. Goalkeeper José Henrique advanced steadily; alas, the cautious approach was no more successful. Best completely outfoxed him, motioning to go right before deploying those snake hips and dragging the ball in the opposite direction.
The calm left-foot finish into an unguarded net was rolled with sufficient power to cross the line, but just slowly enough to deceive Henrique into believing he could rescue the situation. He flung himself towards his goal but succeeded only in bellyflopping and crashing into the back of the net, where he found the ball for company. Best, meanwhile, wheeled away, one arm raised aloft.
The forward was only half-joking when he later declared that he’d been tempted to walk the ball to the goal line before dropping onto all fours and heading it in; supposedly he decided against it not because of the magnitude of the occasion, but because of the retreating Benfica defence.
That defence was broken now regardless: Kidd made it 3-1 – scoring with a header on the rebound – before Charlton met the ball at the near post and dinked it into the opposite corner. An eight-minute period when the Portuguese side were blown away by a tempest of Manchester United finesse and desire.
Jack Charlton said of his brother that the date of the Munich air crash, 6 February 1958, was “when Bobby stopped smiling”. Now Bobby was grinning from ear to ear as he lifted the trophy. “The moment Bobby took the cup, it cleansed me,” said Busby later. “It eased the pain of the guilt of going into Europe. It was my justification.”
It had been the manager who had pushed for his side to play on the greatest stage despite resistance from the powers that be – he’d dreamt of glory and moments of genius; he’d been met by disaster and self-doubt. But now, on the Wembley turf, he was able to dish out the tightest of embraces to a graceful and courageous 22-year-old who had just gone and scored the most important goal in United’s history.
The man Between THE POSTS for Manchester United on the night of 29 May 1968 certainly didn’t stint on his praise, describing this goal as no less than “the most important in United’s history”. But Alex Stepney should give himself at least some of the credit for such a meaningful moment for the club: if it hadn’t been for his late save from one of the greatest strikers of all time, George Best would never have got the opportunity.
But we should rewind a bit. Let’s start with the hours preceding the European Cup final at Wembley, which United’s players spent watching the Epsom Derby on telly. “There were a few bets flying around and it was quite relaxing,” said Stepney. Best was similarly laidback, emboldened by the prospect of “90 minutes of pure magic, us hammering them”. The reality was a little different.
The first factor was the heat: it was a sultry, sopping evening in London. Once the game got going, it wasn’t long before United’s navy blue change kit was rendered even darker by the sheer amount of sweat pouring off the players. Perhaps that’s why the first half finished goalless: all perspiration, no end product.
Eight minutes into the second half, a breakthrough: Bobby Charlton with a looping header that sailed into the bottom corner. Eleven minutes from the final whistle, a riposte: Jaime Graça with the leveller on the half-volley.
Extra time beckoned. But then there was Eusébio, Benfica’s lithe, astonishingly prolific forward, wriggling free of the strait-jacket imposed by Nobby Stiles. He launched a jackhammer of a shot – but there was Stepney, standing tall and using his chest to first stop the ball, then smother it. The Portuguese striker patted the goalkeeper on the back and even afforded him a small round of applause; it should have been 2-1, game over.
But it wasn’t – there was more. Benfica in the hunt for their third European Cup; United still craving their first. In the break before extra time got under way, Matt Busby issued his instructions on the pitch. This was his decade-long quest driven by a yearning to honour the eight players and three staff members, along with 12 more people, who perished in the Munich air disaster; he had, in truth, been perilously close to death himself.
Now the Scottish manager stooped to talk to his players, who were sprawled at his feet; club officials, dressed in suits, joined training staff to urgently administer massages to dehydrated bodies. Legend has it that midfielder Paddy Crerand, raising his voice above the throng, observed, “We might look tired but look at that lot over there.”
The man Between THE POSTS for Manchester United on the night of 29 May 1968 certainly didn’t stint on his praise, describing this goal as no less than “the most important in United’s history”. But Alex Stepney should give himself at least some of the credit for such a meaningful moment for the club: if it hadn’t been for his late save from one of the greatest strikers of all time, George Best would never have got the opportunity.
But we should rewind a bit. Let’s start with the hours preceding the European Cup final at Wembley, which United’s players spent watching the Epsom Derby on telly. “There were a few bets flying around and it was quite relaxing,” said Stepney. Best was similarly laidback, emboldened by the prospect of “90 minutes of pure magic, us hammering them”. The reality was a little different.
The first factor was the heat: it was a sultry, sopping evening in London. Once the game got going, it wasn’t long before United’s navy blue change kit was rendered even darker by the sheer amount of sweat pouring off the players. Perhaps that’s why the first half finished goalless: all perspiration, no end product.
Eight minutes into the second half, a breakthrough: Bobby Charlton with a looping header that sailed into the bottom corner. Eleven minutes from the final whistle, a riposte: Jaime Graça with the leveller on the half-volley.
Extra time beckoned. But then there was Eusébio, Benfica’s lithe, astonishingly prolific forward, wriggling free of the strait-jacket imposed by Nobby Stiles. He launched a jackhammer of a shot – but there was Stepney, standing tall and using his chest to first stop the ball, then smother it. The Portuguese striker patted the goalkeeper on the back and even afforded him a small round of applause; it should have been 2-1, game over.
But it wasn’t – there was more. Benfica in the hunt for their third European Cup; United still craving their first. In the break before extra time got under way, Matt Busby issued his instructions on the pitch. This was his decade-long quest driven by a yearning to honour the eight players and three staff members, along with 12 more people, who perished in the Munich air disaster; he had, in truth, been perilously close to death himself.
Now the Scottish manager stooped to talk to his players, who were sprawled at his feet; club officials, dressed in suits, joined training staff to urgently administer massages to dehydrated bodies. Legend has it that midfielder Paddy Crerand, raising his voice above the throng, observed, “We might look tired but look at that lot over there.”
The man Between THE POSTS for Manchester United on the night of 29 May 1968 certainly didn’t stint on his praise, describing this goal as no less than “the most important in United’s history”. But Alex Stepney should give himself at least some of the credit for such a meaningful moment for the club: if it hadn’t been for his late save from one of the greatest strikers of all time, George Best would never have got the opportunity.
But we should rewind a bit. Let’s start with the hours preceding the European Cup final at Wembley, which United’s players spent watching the Epsom Derby on telly. “There were a few bets flying around and it was quite relaxing,” said Stepney. Best was similarly laidback, emboldened by the prospect of “90 minutes of pure magic, us hammering them”. The reality was a little different.
The first factor was the heat: it was a sultry, sopping evening in London. Once the game got going, it wasn’t long before United’s navy blue change kit was rendered even darker by the sheer amount of sweat pouring off the players. Perhaps that’s why the first half finished goalless: all perspiration, no end product.
Eight minutes into the second half, a breakthrough: Bobby Charlton with a looping header that sailed into the bottom corner. Eleven minutes from the final whistle, a riposte: Jaime Graça with the leveller on the half-volley.
Extra time beckoned. But then there was Eusébio, Benfica’s lithe, astonishingly prolific forward, wriggling free of the strait-jacket imposed by Nobby Stiles. He launched a jackhammer of a shot – but there was Stepney, standing tall and using his chest to first stop the ball, then smother it. The Portuguese striker patted the goalkeeper on the back and even afforded him a small round of applause; it should have been 2-1, game over.
But it wasn’t – there was more. Benfica in the hunt for their third European Cup; United still craving their first. In the break before extra time got under way, Matt Busby issued his instructions on the pitch. This was his decade-long quest driven by a yearning to honour the eight players and three staff members, along with 12 more people, who perished in the Munich air disaster; he had, in truth, been perilously close to death himself.
Now the Scottish manager stooped to talk to his players, who were sprawled at his feet; club officials, dressed in suits, joined training staff to urgently administer massages to dehydrated bodies. Legend has it that midfielder Paddy Crerand, raising his voice above the throng, observed, “We might look tired but look at that lot over there.”
Sure enough, extra time was only two minutes old when, entirely unannounced, history arrived.
The build-up was innocuous enough: out-on-their-feet full-backs Tony Dunne and Shay Brennan were taking it in turns to pass the ball straight back to Stepney when he threw it out to them. Understanding the implied message, the keeper punted the ball downfield. Brian Kidd, who was celebrating his 19th birthday, leapt to apply the slightest of flicks.
Quick as a flash, there was Best. He reached the ball ahead of Jacinto Santos, the Benfica defender momentarily rash in missing a wild clearing kick; now the United No7 had a clear run on goal. Goalkeeper José Henrique advanced steadily; alas, the cautious approach was no more successful. Best completely outfoxed him, motioning to go right before deploying those snake hips and dragging the ball in the opposite direction.
The calm left-foot finish into an unguarded net was rolled with sufficient power to cross the line, but just slowly enough to deceive Henrique into believing he could rescue the situation. He flung himself towards his goal but succeeded only in bellyflopping and crashing into the back of the net, where he found the ball for company. Best, meanwhile, wheeled away, one arm raised aloft.
The forward was only half-joking when he later declared that he’d been tempted to walk the ball to the goal line before dropping onto all fours and heading it in; supposedly he decided against it not because of the magnitude of the occasion, but because of the retreating Benfica defence.
That defence was broken now regardless: Kidd made it 3-1 – scoring with a header on the rebound – before Charlton met the ball at the near post and dinked it into the opposite corner. An eight-minute period when the Portuguese side were blown away by a tempest of Manchester United finesse and desire.
Jack Charlton said of his brother that the date of the Munich air crash, 6 February 1958, was “when Bobby stopped smiling”. Now Bobby was grinning from ear to ear as he lifted the trophy. “The moment Bobby took the cup, it cleansed me,” said Busby later. “It eased the pain of the guilt of going into Europe. It was my justification.”
It had been the manager who had pushed for his side to play on the greatest stage despite resistance from the powers that be – he’d dreamt of glory and moments of genius; he’d been met by disaster and self-doubt. But now, on the Wembley turf, he was able to dish out the tightest of embraces to a graceful and courageous 22-year-old who had just gone and scored the most important goal in United’s history.
The man Between THE POSTS for Manchester United on the night of 29 May 1968 certainly didn’t stint on his praise, describing this goal as no less than “the most important in United’s history”. But Alex Stepney should give himself at least some of the credit for such a meaningful moment for the club: if it hadn’t been for his late save from one of the greatest strikers of all time, George Best would never have got the opportunity.
But we should rewind a bit. Let’s start with the hours preceding the European Cup final at Wembley, which United’s players spent watching the Epsom Derby on telly. “There were a few bets flying around and it was quite relaxing,” said Stepney. Best was similarly laidback, emboldened by the prospect of “90 minutes of pure magic, us hammering them”. The reality was a little different.
The first factor was the heat: it was a sultry, sopping evening in London. Once the game got going, it wasn’t long before United’s navy blue change kit was rendered even darker by the sheer amount of sweat pouring off the players. Perhaps that’s why the first half finished goalless: all perspiration, no end product.
Eight minutes into the second half, a breakthrough: Bobby Charlton with a looping header that sailed into the bottom corner. Eleven minutes from the final whistle, a riposte: Jaime Graça with the leveller on the half-volley.
Extra time beckoned. But then there was Eusébio, Benfica’s lithe, astonishingly prolific forward, wriggling free of the strait-jacket imposed by Nobby Stiles. He launched a jackhammer of a shot – but there was Stepney, standing tall and using his chest to first stop the ball, then smother it. The Portuguese striker patted the goalkeeper on the back and even afforded him a small round of applause; it should have been 2-1, game over.
But it wasn’t – there was more. Benfica in the hunt for their third European Cup; United still craving their first. In the break before extra time got under way, Matt Busby issued his instructions on the pitch. This was his decade-long quest driven by a yearning to honour the eight players and three staff members, along with 12 more people, who perished in the Munich air disaster; he had, in truth, been perilously close to death himself.
Now the Scottish manager stooped to talk to his players, who were sprawled at his feet; club officials, dressed in suits, joined training staff to urgently administer massages to dehydrated bodies. Legend has it that midfielder Paddy Crerand, raising his voice above the throng, observed, “We might look tired but look at that lot over there.”
