Carabao Cup first round: wins for West Ham, Burnley and Millwall – as it happened

Stoke City were 109 years old in 1972. Their trophy cabinet was full, but only of 109 years’ worth of dust. They’d won nowt. And they weren’t expected to win the 1972 League Cup final, either; their opponents, Dave Sexton’s Chelsea, had two recent successes to their name: the 1970 FA Cup against Leeds United and the 1971 Cup Winners’ Cup against Real Madrid. “Experience of what the Americans call ‘the big time’ suggests that Chelsea will have at least one major advantage this afternoon at Wembley,” reasoned the man from the Guardian on the morning of the match. “All Chelsea’s forwards are more skilful ball players than on the opposite side, with the possible exception of the ageless Eastham.”

The ageless George Eastham, 35, had been something of a nearly man. He joined Newcastle United in 1956, a year after the club had won their last domestic trophy to date. He fell out with the club over the slum house they provided him with – Newcastle argued that the crumbling property was good enough, having been “once occupied by the famous Jackie Milburn” – and effectively went on strike, selling cork in Guildford before being transferred against his will to Arsenal. Eastham took Arsenal to court, winning a landmark case that drastically changed the old retain-and-transfer system that had made near-slaves of players – but won no money, the judge ticking him off for refusing to play while flogging his cork. Eastham’s time at Arsenal was personally successful, but coincided with the club’s drift into mediocrity. He left for Stoke in 1966, just after England won the World Cup. Eastham had been in the squad, but didn’t play a single minute of the tournament.

His bread had always fallen jam side down, but now Eastham would have his day. Chelsea started strongly, but Stoke hit on the break and – the more things change, the more they stay the same – set up the opening goal with a long throw. Captain Peter Dobing flung one into the area from the left, Peter Bonetti’s punch fell to Eastham, who sent the ball back into the mixer. After a brief scramble, Terry Conroy steered a header into the net from 12 yards.

Chelsea equalised with the last action of the first half, Peter Osgood chesting down and sweeping home, and enjoyed the bulk of the play in the second period, Charlie Cooke and Alan Hudson in control, Gordon Banks forced to make several crucial saves. But on 73 minutes, Jimmy Greenhoff forced Bonetti to make a diving save, the loose ball being prodded home by Eastham. Stoke held out, and finally – finally – a trophy was theirs.

“The hugging and dancing among officials and players on the field, like the sustained warmth of the reaction to the lap of honour from the thousands waving red-and-white banners on the stands and terraces, gave the impression of a family celebration,” wrote Hugh McIlvanney in the Observer. “It was all the more enjoyable in a family that has known deprivation for so long.”

1. George Mutch (PRESTON 1-0 Huddersfield Town, 1938)

The 1938 FA Cup final between Preston North End and Huddersfield Town was the first to be televised live by the BBC. In the commentary box, describing the first half of this historic and prestigious event, was George Allison, manager of Arsenal, who were busy elsewhere taking on Liverpool as they battled with Wolverhampton Wanderers in the race for the title. (Imagine Sir Alex Ferguson eschewing Manchester United’s game at Blackburn in order to take the mic for ESPN. The past really is a different country.) Arsenal would win the league the following week, but Allison’s luck wasn’t in this particular day: the first half of the final, his showpiece broadcast, was a defensive non-event.

The second half was barely any better, save for a couple of speculative shots from Huddersfield’s Pat Beasley and Preston’s Bill Shankly. The game went into extra time. Describing the action, such as it was, since half-time was Lieutenant-Commander Thomas Woodrooffe, a former naval officer who had become one of BBC radio’s top broadcasters. Woodrooffe was appalled at the dreary nature of events, and with the match entering the 120th minute, he announced to the viewing nation (which, in 1938, totalled about 17 toffs in the Alexandra Palace area of London) that “if there is a goal now, I’ll eat my hat”.

Sure enough, and right on cue, Preston’s inside-right, George Mutch, picked up the ball and went on one last desperate sortie into the Huddersfield area. Alf Young, the Huddersfield captain, went over to cover. He stuck out a boot, with calamitous results. “Flat to earth went Mutch as though sudden death had overtaken him,” reported the Manchester Guardian. “The Huddersfield team stood thunderstruck in all the sad variety of woe, all save the wretched Young, who threw up appealing arms before the referee. Preston put breath back into Mutch and, after some anxious conclave, nominated and unanimously elected him to exact the tribute for the affront that had been done to him.”

Mutch nearly missed the penalty – it would be another exact half-century before that grim fate befell a player in the cup final – but the ball flew between Bob Hesford’s arms, caught the underside of the bar, and rolled along the netting before dropping into the goal. There was just time for Huddersfield to kick off before the final whistle blew. So, not exactly a contender to rival Ricky Villa, Roberto di Matteo or Ray Parlour, but one of the most dramatic finishes to a cup final, and one with a surreal denouement. Woodrooffe – who was already infamous for his majestic drunken Fleet’s Lit Up meanderings at a naval show a year earlier – bravely kept the promise made in the moments before Mutch sprawled over Young’s leg, and tucked into a bowler hat live on BBC television. It was made of cake and marzipan.