Neil Lennon - Neil Lennon - Man and Bhoy

Back in the early 1990s I was happy to be on the edge of what was a hard-drinking, drug-using scene, but I was a little like a spectator looking in. As I played football for a living, I could never get involved in that sort of heavy stuff, but I did enjoy the craic and the music.

The early 1990s were exciting times to be in the Manchester area and I was reluctant to leave when Crewe was only thirty-five miles down the road, but transport was a problem. Even though I had learned to drive and had a licence, I was so badly off that I couldn’t afford a car and at first I had to hitch lifts off other players to make the journey back and forth to Stockport. My young person’s bus pass came in very handy at that time.

Eventually I managed to scrimp and save enough to get myself some wheels. My first car will strike a chord with those who remember British Leyland and some of its more ‘charming’ products. The second-hand—or maybe about tenth-hand—Austin Montego that I bought during my first season at Crewe was at least an improvement on the bus.

One day Dario asked me to pop up to the train station in my car and pick up the scout who had spotted me in City’s reserves, Des Bennett. I parked my car at the top of the hill outside Crewe station, and went looking for Des. I couldn’t find him and when I went back to where I had parked it, my car was gone. My first thought was ‘who would nick an Austin Montego’ but as I looked around I spotted my car rolling down the hill. There were a lot of cars parked by the station that day, and my Montego hit four of them on the way down. I did the honest thing and left notes with my details on the windscreens, and the insurance company picked up the tab, but the Montego didn’t last long after that.

As I totted up the appearances for Crewe I knew I was doing well, and I was flattered to read in the newspapers that the great Brian Clough, legendary manager of Nottingham Forest, was apparently having me watched. But as would happen so often in my career, reports and rumours proved to be just that.

In late November, we were deep in the relegation zone and things were looking very glum when we went away to play Cambridge United who were then chasing promotion. I remember that game well because it marked my first goal for Crewe.

Kenny Swain was making his 100th appearance for Crewe that night, becoming only the second player after Peter Shilton to reach that mark with five separate clubs.

Dion Dublin, who would come to Celtic late in his long career and end up scoring in the Scottish League Cup Final, notched the opener for Cambridge after two minutes, but we equalized before Steve Claridge, later to be a colleague at Leicester, put United ahead on the stroke of half-time.

About a minute into the second half I got the ball and went on a run past three of their defenders before poking the ball past John Vaughan in the Cambridge goal. I was ecstatic and remember running over to the Crewe fans and jumping onto the barrier in my excitement. I would score three goals that season, which proves I could actually hit the net with somewhat more regularity than I have done with Celtic.

Our league form was dismal from then on, frankly, but we went on a fair old run in the FA Cup, beating Lincoln City, Atherstone United, Bristol Rovers and Rotherham before drawing West Ham in the fifth round. There were television cameras at the ground and I had told all the people in the Elizabethan to watch out for our game—it was slightly embarrassing when only thirty seconds of the match was shown.

I wish they had shown more because we played really well in that match. Dario had told us to go out and have a go at the First Division side, and we certainly did. United had my old Manchester City colleague Trevor Morley playing that day while Frank McAvennie was back with them and proving dangerous. But we not only held out, we attacked them and could have scored when Craig Hignett missed a relatively easy chance. It looked as if we would earn a money-spinning replay but with about twelve minutes left, Jimmy Quinn scored for them and we were out of the cup. I recall their fans as well as ours giving us an ovation as we trudged off Upton Park. We just could not replicate that form in the league, however, and despite a late surge when we won four out of our last five matches, the terrible start cost us dear and relegation became inevitable when Chester City beat us 3-1.

I enjoyed a bittersweet end to the season. Relegation was heartbreaking, though Dario had us all feeling pretty confident that we would get straight back up again. My own form had held up, Dario had made me captain for a few of the later matches, and there were reports that Nottingham Forest and Oxford United were watching me, but of course these came to nothing.

What really boosted me was that I was voted Player of the Year not once but three times. I was the Players’ Player, the Junior Player and the Supporters’ Player. I particularly relished the latter award because from the start the fans seemed to have taken to me, and I certainly appreciated their encouragement.

For good measure the club’s Vice Presidents’ Association also voted me as their Player of the Year which is how I got to meet the one and only Denis Law. He presented me with the trophy at a black-tie dinner just twenty-four hours after watching United beat Barcelona in the European Cup Winners’ Cup Final.

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