"Some people believe football is a matter of life and death. I'm very disappointed with that attitude. I can assure you it is much, much more important than that." - Bill Shankly.
I’m not much of a crier. I think I cried at Marley and Me, but if you have a dog and didn’t cry at that film then questions certainly need to be asked.
Men will try and avoid falling under the category of ‘criers’. It will take away part of their masculinity and feel like a sign of weakness.
However, there's one thing in life that will reduce men (including myself) to tears… and that’s football. It's done so on several occasions in the past and will do for years to come in the future.
95% of the time these are tears of misery, heartache, despondency, regret, embarrassment, dejection, anger, rage, sorrow, misery, despair, or in my case as a QPR fan, all of the above.
But what doesn’t make sense to many people is why, why, why, despite the feelings of crippling depression football leaves us with, do we keep going back?
And the reason for this is that magical 5%. Every football fan will understand what I mean when I say there are two or three moments from matches in the past that you can say you were there to witness, moments that caused an indescribable feeling unlike any other, moments that you will remember for the rest of your life.
This moment only lasts a matter of seconds, but will stay with you forever, and as cheesy as it sounds and as cringe worthy as it feels typing this, it’s true.
The one moment that will stay with me forever, that I was lucky enough to be part of, took place at Wembley stadium.
I’ll set the scene.
After a long and gruelling season watching 46 Championship matches up and down the country and two nail biting semi-final legs, we made it to Wembley to play Derby County in the play-off final on the 24th May 2014 for a place in the Premier League, the greatest league in world football.
It was a big day for us. The Rowe family’s love for football is unconditional.
It stems from the person I look up to most and who is without a shadow of a doubt my idol, Mr Brian Rowe (also known as Grandad). If I am able to be half the bloke he is at 82 years old then I will be a very, very proud man.
Grandad was Commercial Director at QPR and has been a loyal supporter for over 75 years. His passion for the club and the game itself has been passed down the generations to the point at which it is now impossible to be born into the family without having blue and white hoops in your blood.
More importantly, he is by far the kindest, funniest and most generous man I have ever met, and if you ever have the pleasure of meeting him, you will no doubt be inspired by his sheer lust for life.
He has watched undoubtedly some of the worst games of football to ever take place, in some of the worst conditions and worst places to ever host the sport.
So the day at Wembley, in my eyes, was for him.
In 2003 we took a coach load of family and friends (mostly rugby fans) from Solihull to the Millennium Stadium for the League 2 play-off final against Cardiff.
6 minutes before the end of extra time Cardiff’s Andy Campbell lobs the QPR keeper Chris Day and seals Cardiff’s promotion. 30,000 QPR fans with their heads in their hands and a long journey home asking why we put ourselves through the pain.
Wembley was a chance to finally erase that awful moment from our memory and replace it with one that we would remember for all the right reasons.
We took up about two or three rows in the corner section of the ground. This time it was Rowe family only. I don’t think any of us could handle the thought of a friend saying ‘Come on mate it’s only a game of football’ again. 2003 still felt like yesterday.
Derby County came into the game as bookies favourites, having been considerably more impressive than us throughout the season under Steve McLaren.
And by around the 60 minute mark, despite the score being 0-0, Derby started to mean business. They peppered Rob Green’s goal with a number of chances and flashbacks of Cardiff loomed around the sea of blue and white hoops.
Johnny Russell was in on goal and looked to destroy our hopes, until Gary O’Neil (QPR player) did it for him. He brought him down and was given a straight red card.
The ever so familiar feeling returned. Down to 10 men for over half an hour. Surely they would score. Every roar from the Derby faithful as they came closer to going in front was as piercing as nails running down a black board.
Somehow we kept them out for almost half an hour. The R’s back four was immense.
As the clock read 89 minutes we took possession for the first time in what felt like an eternity. I still to this day remember the noise that emerged from our end of the ground purely because we had the ball. It was bizarre.
A sudden element of hope came out of nowhere as Junior Hoilett, a player who has been nothing short of bang average in his time at QPR took the ball down the right wing.
What went through the mind of every single QPR fan in that stadium and around the world watching was… What if? We don’t get luck. We don’t get last minute winners. We just don’t get moments like this. It cannot happen. But… What if?
Two Derby players surrounded him as he took the ball into the corner. He somehow managed to get a cross into the box, a cross that unsurprisingly found the Derby County centre half. It was surely just a routine clearance.
However, Richard Keogh, thank you sir.
The clearance fell straight to QPR’s Bobby Zamora, who’s left footed shot went straight into the top corner.
This was the moment I will remember forever. It was absolute pandemonium. Mayhem. The QPR end erupted.
My cousin Dan was on the end of the row and in the midst of the chaos for some unknown reason ended up running straight inside on his own. When we asked him why he simply told us it was because he didn’t know what to do with himself.
I turned around during the celebration and every member of my family was in tears. Every single disappointing match and season we have put ourselves through as a family over the years has, in a matter of 5 minutes, proved to be worth every second.
I grabbed my Grandad who was also in tears, and for the best part of 2 minutes he just looked at me and said nothing other than, ‘Charlie, I can’t believe we’ve done it’.
It was at that point I knew why football is the greatest sport in the world.
