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I was 11 years old, I had been to Plainmoor 3 or 4 times that season. In those days Dad had to work most Saturdays and often couldn't afford to take the time off to take me and my football mad older brother to Plainmoor. He was hell bent on making sure we were Torquay fans though. Back at school everyone supported Man Utd or Liverpool, no-one supported Torquay. If we were lucky we could stay up and watch Match of the Day on Saturday night, and those lucky enough to have Sky would watch the one Sunday televised match. On Monday mornings in the playground everyone would be trying to recreate the latest Cantona effort or the Asprilla celebration, everyone would wear Man Utd kits on non uniform days, the mere thought of supporting Torquay United was never entertained, never mentioned.

I went to a couple of evening matches, and went on my birthday too. Seeing football up close was different, the thud of the ball being kicked, the anticipation of the crowd as an attacking move was created, the tirades of abuse as it inevitably broke down, it all felt so real. But still i could not understand why the Torquay players couldn't pass like Beckham, dribble like Ginola or shoot like Le-Tissier. It was really good in my mind, but still not in the same league as watching the Champions League on a Wednesday night.

Torquay were having an excellent season, and whilst I kept an eye on their results, the fact that I only went fleetingly meant that each victory, draw or loss had no real consequence to me. We needed to beat Orient on the last day of the season to go up, I listened to every minute on the radio and Torquay came within a whisker of getting promoted automatically, still in my own mind I was probably more occupied with the FA cup final or the Premier league run in. On the evening of the second leg to Scarborough I was sat in my room playing on my nintendo, weirdly Dad got home early from work. He told me we HAD to go to Plainmoor. That night changed my life and started a love affair that I intend to take to my grave with me.

Back in those days we hadn't worked out where best to park, (now we park in the same place 2 minutes from the ground, simple!) it was near on impossible to park within a mile of the ground. Everywhere you looked there were yellow replica shirts from all generations and seasons, Dads holding tightly to their children's hands as they dragged them at the speed of light along the pavements towards Plainmoor, seasoned fans outside the pubs excitedly discussing how the match was going to play out. In the end we ditched the car at the first available opportunity and joined the mass throng of punters flocking up Plainmoor high street as a pleasant Spring evening descended over TQ1.

The queue for the popside was massive, and by this time the gates had already been open for 45 minutes, and at 7.40pm the gates were officially slammed shut with plenty of crestfallen Gulls' fans, many of which die-hards i would suggest, still out on the street. 2 Policeman ran down from the Away end turn styles and informed us of a night-saving decision, the away end would be open to home fans and the travelling contingent of Scarborough fans (numbering about 200) would be shoved into the small section of terracing in front of the old Yellow Portakabins.

There was a real mad dash to get to the turn styles first, to get the best view of the action from behind the goal, the kick off was delayed for some 15 minutes to get as many Torquay fans into the away end as safely as possible, It was chaos. Once in the away end, the stadium was a sight to behold. The popside was a sea of Yellow and generated a terrific noise. If i thought we were packed in like Sardines in the away end, god knows what it was like on the pop, there were even a couple of extra rows of fans in the gangway, you would never ever see it that packed nowadays, Health and Safety simply wouldn't allow it.

To my left, the old Grandstand was full to the brim, people upstanding from their seats, nobody wanted to sit tonight. The paddocks at the front were bursting at their seams adorned with flags and banners, yellow hats and wigs. In front of me, the Family Stand, the most modern part of the ground, not a spare seat to be counted and again another row of fans leaning against the front wall. The Scarborough fans were silent, 3-1 down from the first leg, only the hardcore had made the long, thankless trip from deepest Yorkshire, more out of hope than expectation i daresay. The rest of the ground was noisy, far noisier than I have ever heard since, more is the pity, chants that are no longer sung were bellowed out passionately as thousands of pairs of hands clapped in unison in anticipation of a great night, and when the players took to the pitch I thought the popside roof was going to come off.

Everywhere you looked confetti fell from the air and balloons were hurled skywards, this clearly was not the sort of occasion that came round very often. This also, was far different from anything watching football on the TV could ever give you, and far far better.

I was right at the front of the terracing, squashed in next to my brother up against the barrier, I could only just peer over the top , but I could see everything. Hundreds of cigarettes were lit in unison as nicotine mixed with questionable Plainmoor pasties to create one of football's long lost smells, there were still hoards of fans streaming in as the match finally got under way and i suspect many missed the early opening goal.

And what a goal! Rodney Jack, still the fastest I have ever seen at Plainmoor, showed the last man defender a clean set of heels, sidestepped the on rushing keeper still 30 yards from goal, The whole ground held their breath to see if the West Indian had pushed the ball too far wide, or whether he could shoot into an open net, off balance from an acute angle. Jack maintained his cool and slotted the ball home and Plainmoor erupted. (figuratively, not literally)

Minutes later the little man had done it again, this time on the wing. He left the winger for dead and veared in on goal at a tight angle, he nutmegged the keeper by sliding the ball into the side netting to send Plainmoor into the sort of Pandemonium that would be severely frowned upon by all and sundry in today's day and age. The noise got louder and louder as it became apparent that Torquay had all but cemented their place at Wembley as a carnival atmosphere soon took over.

A beleaguered Scarborough were offering little competition as Torquay knocked the ball round for fun, the strings being pulled by evergreen maestro Steve McCall. Whether a small pass 5 yards, our spreading the play 50 yards, McCall made it look easy, he was running the show. In what were to be some of the last minutes of his long, illustrious career, the 37 year old had one last rabbit to pull out of his hat. Picking the ball up 25 yards from goal and in space, McCall whipped the ball right into the top corner, he couldn't have got it any more in the corner, the hapless keeper was nowhere near it, beaten all ends up, a true touch of class. 6-1 up in the tie, half time in the second leg, the party began.

Scarborough pulled one back in the second half, Paul Gibbs applied the icing on the cake to make it 4-1 on the night, 7-2 on aggregate, but the whole second half was irrelevant, it was all about the atmosphere, all about being there to witness it. Mexican wave after Mexican waves flowed round the stands, even the Scarborough fans joined in, content not to take the moment away from us. Families of fans linked arms and joined in the songs as the sweet taste of victory tantalised on the tastebuds of the Plainmoor faithful.

In time honoured tradition the referee made sure he was near enough the tunnel before bring the match to its conclusion, because no sooner had he started to raise his whistle to his lips had thousands of Torquay fans started their assault on the pitch. Within seconds the pitch was awash with joyous fans kissing the turf, hugging their families, hugging strangers. People of all ages with tears of joy streaming down their faces, some of the more mature shell shocked and taken aback by what they had just seen.

We walked along the popside edge of the pitch, you could not see the concrete flooring, it was covered in inches of confetti, newspaper, popped balloons and various discarded food packaging. We turned left along the family stand and there were fans sat motionless on the seats taking in every last moment of the jubilant scenes. We then joined the big crowd huddled around the tunnel, hoping our heroes would come out to soak up the adulation. Grown men had climbed on top of the dugouts and were dancing a merry jig, everywhere you looked there was happiness. No-one wanted to leave.

I could not make Wembley, the match was moved to a Friday night to cater for a meaningless England friendly, and I was not allowed the time off school. That, in hindsight, was probably for the best because the heartbreak of Wembley may well have over-shadowed the ecstasy of that great night. I watched the match at home and cried a little tear at the final whistle at the unfairness of Torquay not going up and that is when I knew that Torquay United mattered to me, and the seeds of that were sewn against Scarborough

The next season I went to as many home games as I could, earning the entrance fee through doing my chores, or saving my pocket money by not spending it on football stickers or sweeties. I was brought the home kit by Mum and proudly wore it to school at the first opportunity. Soon, the premiership didn't seem to matter, discussing the latest Bergkamp wonder strike was nowhere near as interesting as discussing Big Nev's comeback to the beautiful game or breaking our transfer record on a little known welsh striker.

Even nowadays, some 15 years, on you can't describe what watching Torquay win means to you to those who watch their team on the TV. How different the feelings of days out at Barnet, Southend,Carlisle and Wembley, beating Crawley and Evans, beating Rovers and Buckle, taking 2000 fans to Home Park and doing the double over your local rivals, are to seeing 20 replays of a routine tap-in 1-0 victory over Fulham at home. Nor can I put into the words the pain of seeing my club asset-stripped and brought to its knees by a Charlatan, or the resultant pride of seeing the club re-born in new surroundings and then go from strength to strength on and off the pitch ever since.

Supporting my local club takes me to some dark places sometimes. Saturday's long trip to Bradford to see us lose for example was hard to take. However on long trips home after such defeats I look back to that night at Plainmoor, to all the hundreds of other amazing memories my football team has given me since and wonder momentarily whether its all worth it? Of course it is, it's one hell of a ride, but I wouldn't change it for the world. I am in love with Torquay United Football Club and I always will be, and I am not ashamed to admit it.

Absolutely brilliant Bengull.

I am glad that you made the decision to follow the one true United,

Thanks for bringing great memories of that Scarborough game. Rodney Jacks night !

I was at Orient on that last day of the season and went to Wembley but that Scarborogh night was so special.

Thanks, that was a pleasure to read on a monday morning, brough back a lot of memories and similar feeling, even brought a tear to my eye.

For me I was living in Liverpool during their glory years but I was never a real fan I wanted something different, I always remember watching final score on grandstand with desmond at the throne. One particular match caught my eye that day and the climax it produced. The match Torquay v Crewe.......the rest as they say is history......COYY

Very well written piece there Ben and certainly captures the atmosphere. I was one of those old buggers having watched my first game at Plainmoor in 1963 who was dragging the kids along. After a long wait I managed to get in the enclosure in front of the stand. I have never to this day believed that the official attendance of just over 5300 was correct! It certainly is one of those games that for long term Gulls fans would be one of those special ones like 4-0 against Leeds (before my time), 3-3 against Tottenham Hotspur in front of 20,000 (I was there by then!), 3-0 v Bury first ever Match of the Day appearance when we were top of what is now League 1, Crewe the great 2-2 escape, first Wembley v Bolton even though we lost, second Wembley v Blackpool as we got promoted in a dramatic penalty shoot out, and even Argyle at Home Park last season as it was so good after so long to see us dominate not only on the pitch but in the stands. Lots of good memories and this is now my 50th season, but most definitely that Scarborough play-off is there as a big memory.

My first game was certainly not as dramatic but for me I was immediately hooked. A mundane 1-0 win against Rochdale. It has led to me always looking for Rochdale on the fixture list even before the local derbies though, and because they were the first opposition I saw against us for me our 5-0 win three years ago when we were struggling and Rochdale had turned up with almost 2000 fans for a promotion party was really special.

Good stuff there Ben and you stayed with it through the bad times as well. A proper football supporter

My story is a bit long winded and a bit puzzling for most people to understand but i wouldn't have it any other way now. I am and i feel as much a part of Torquay United Football Club than anyone local and as a complete outsider that is a bold statement. Unlike Ben i have no memories of Plainmoor or indeed anything Torquay pre-2004, Torquay the club and the town may as well never existed. All this changed in 2004 and gradually since i have 'fallen in love with TUFC', like many relationships it has been a rocky road with some fallings out but we keep getting back together and as you'll see from my 'relationships' with some other clubs i have had connections with, staying together has not been something i have been able to do.

I have jealousy for most of you and your relationship with Torquay as i'm not local, never have been and so haven't been afforded the opportunity of understanding what the club means to it's small but dedicated supporter base on a daily basis. I don't know what the club means to the town and the local people and i've never been involved in anything the club has done in the local area. I began supporting the club blindly and only now have my eyes been fully opened to the true dedication and passion that the regulars have for their club and the compassion, hospitality and acceptance with which Torquay fans afford us outsiders.

As i think i posted before on a similar thread ages ago, my footballing education was taught by the Doncaster Rovers sides of the late 80's and early 90's at the delapidated old Belle Vue ground. Funnily enough, the side down the side of the pitch that i used to stand in was also called the 'popside'.
My memories are the same as Ben's in a way, making our way down to the ground with the glare of the floodlights, the buzz of fans milling around pre-match, the smell of sizzling dead animals wafting from the burger vans, the voiciferous sales pitch of the programme sellers, the teams coaches parked outside. Myself and loads of schoolmates would head into the pop and watch the game. As someone who is obsessed with geography and places, even then, i always made a point of scanning the open ended away terrace and seeing how many fans each team brought and i always used to say to myself, 'they're from Crewe/Grimsby/York/Rochdale' or wherever it was they were from and it amazed me that people would travel from all over just to stand in a football ground for 90 minutes to watch their team, sing about where they were from and then go home. F*cking odd when you think about it.

Anyway, you may be wondering why i'm not a Donny fan and quite simply it is through my deep morals and sense of injustice that i 'fell out of love' with two clubs. Donny were the first and around the time i was playing youth football and i was consistently the clear leading goalscorer in the area. Doncaster were looking at two of us, myself and another lad who wasn't as good as me obviously :Oops: well this other lad only happened to be the best mate of the son of the Rovers youth set up. Guess what? Yep. I was overlooked for him. This made me want to burn down Belle Vue but little did i know that someone would do it at a later date anyway!

I was angrier than someone who was very, very angry and the bitterness consumed me so much that i never set foot in that place again. I hate Donny now, i hate the club and the town i was born and grew up in. My mum still lives there but i get so depressed whenever i go back because it's such a f*cking dump now. It is overrun by immigrants ( not the immigrants fault may i add ), chavs, thick oiks and townies who still feel the need to go out on a saturday night aged 45 with a massive gold chain round their necks, white shirts, shiny bald heads and think it's acceptable to try and chat up young women. F*cking sad b*stards!
Anyway, that was that and Donny was no more. I carried on playing football but it really affected me and my disciplinary record became worse than Vinnie Jones and Lee Cattermoles combined which culminated in me getting sent off in a game where scouts from Newcastle, Forest and Sheff U had come to watch me! I didn't know this before or during the game though ( as if somehow that's an excuse! ).

I sat down one night and wrote to all the football league clubs within commutable distance asking for a trial and only one club responded. Hull City.
I had my trial alongside Dean Windass who was then only a youth player himself and i played on a yts after that. I was very happy going to Hull on the train from Doncaster and i had some great times there becoming a regular on the terraces at Boothferry Park, terraces which as part of my yts duties i spent many hours sweeping . I actually remember a game against Torquay, i parked in the B&Q next to the ground and there was a Torquay fan sat in a car opposite and i kept thinking how far he'd come. I think it was the strip sponsored by ModDec with the yellow and white stripes. Anyway if memory serves me right Torquay must have scored 3 times in the last 5 minutes to get a 3-3 draw because i left early to get a train back to Sheffield and on the radio on the way home it said it finished 3-3! Don't know if any of you were there or remember that one?

Well after being a regular for a few years Hull drew Villa in the cup and Villa were a huge club to be drawn against in those days. They had Andy Townsend and others. When tickets went on general sale i was on the phone all day trying to get through and when i finally did i was told that all the tickets had been sold. You can imagine how i felt, like a kid not getting any Christmas presents on Christmas Day or getting down to do the business with a beautiful lady only to discover she was actually a bloke ( neither of these actually happened to me i hasten to add although i've pulled a few women who LOOKED like men ) ( again, not because i like men in that way, just because i was probably drunk or summat and.....oh i'm shutting up now as i think this is getting quite unpleasant )

I felt like a whole seabass on Michel Roux's preparation table - GUTTED! The injustice kicked in, why should some people who have not set foot inside Boothferry Park all season get a ticket ahead of me who had been loyal? Reason went out the window and my usual rashness took over and i told them to f*ck off. I left them for York where again i was a regular on the terraces at Bootham Crescent. This time though i didn't support York. I had become so disillusioned with football that i just ended up supporting nobody and going to watch the clubs my mates supported with them for a laugh. Sheffield Wednesday, Barnsley and Rotherham. I was disaffected by football for a good few years.

I then met my current partner about 10 years ago. I say partner, she is a woman and not a man. Let's get that ruddy well clear before i kick on! She had been a holidaymaker to the South West since she was a kid whilst i got as far as Great Yarmouth! We started visiting the area quite a lot and i fell in love with it. Having been used to the beauty of places like Scarborough, Whitby, Robin Hoods Bay, Filey and Staithes plus the Yorkshire Moors, Dales and Wolds i thought nothing could come close but what the South West has is a feeling of detachment from the rest of the Uk and i like that. We decided that we wanted to eventually come to the area to live and work and although i've lived and worked in St Columb near Newquay for a time , i had to go back oop north.

I got back into football again and decided i would support one of the three Devon clubs and that would be my club for the rest of my days. How did i choose? Well i got a map of Devon and shoved a pin in it, the closest club to the pin would be MY new club. It landed just outside Dawlish, i can't tell you how close i was to being a Greek but fate showed me the way. The TORQUAY UNITED way.

My first game was the opening day of our promotion season 2004 where we won 1-0 at Northampton thanks to a Jason Fowler goal. I remember going into the ground with a sense of nervousness as i knew nobody, didn't know any of the songs and i just knew someone was going to randomly ask me about a player who i didn't even know and i'd look like a total penis! Fortunately that didn't happen but i got my first taste of life as a Gull. I am now fully fledged and flying and sh*tting all over grounds in the country and couldn't be happier. Like Ben says, there are dark days especially for you guys who travel around from Devon to get to away games and you get what happened to us at Bradford. It's a way of life. I remember going to an FA Trophy game away at Southport and we lost 3-0. It was f*cking freezing and i thought, 'what the hell am i doing here?!'.

Our non league campaigns were the same. Totally demoralising going to places like Barrow, Northwich and Kettering. We came through it though and we are in a healthy position. As the years have passed i have gradually worked my way from being on the periphery of the singing action to now being a complete part of it all, away anyway. I know a few of you now and i thank you for accepting me and making me feel welcome and not judging me for being an outsider. My passion for Torquay is now in my blood and whatever happens i will always be Torquay til i die and my little daughter will be too. It will be great when she is old enough to go to games. Another one to the ranks!

I fell in love with TUFC in December 1964, when my Dad took me to my first game in Round 2 of the FA Cup. We beat Colchester 2-0. Even though I couldn't see the whole pitch I was hooked. Me and my Dad didn't go to the third round game, which I regret, because he thought that I was a bit too small to stand in a big crowd. That game was the famous 3-3 draw with Spurs!

I went with my Dad to loads more home games. I used to have a wonderful programme collection, but lost it in house moves. My Dad stopped going in the late 60s, I can't remember why, but I kept going. I went to most home games until I went to university in 1974, and to some away games. I particularly remember going to Plymouth in 1968, when we beat them 2-1. I was attacked after the game by a couple of Argyle fans, and learned to be careful wearing a scarf to away games. I remember a very gobby Ulsterman called Billy Bingham, who was Argye's manager at the time, saying that Torquay would win at Plainmoor "over his dead body". Some Gulls fans wanted to take a coffin to the game with Bingham written on the side, but I think this was banned. Sadly Argyle did win at Plainmoor. I went to Villa Park in 1970 to see my hero Mickey Cave score the only goal. I went on the train to the big city with a schoolmate, and saw one of the most one sided games where Villa pounded Torquay, but we still won!

I have some great memories of nailbiting games, often at the end of the season. The play-offs have given me some wonderful moments (and some not so wonderful, such as my trip to Preston when the cheat Raynor robbed us of a place in the final). I have loved all the Wembley appearances, even when I was called a "soft southern bas*ard" by a disgruntled Blackpool fan after we beat them in the play-off final. The first Wembley appearance against Bolton Wanderers in 1989 was a great day out, even though we lost. I rememember the M4 being stuffed full of cars and coaches with Torquay fans.

In 1987, I had one of the saddest days of my life when my dad died. I went to Plainmoor just after his death on a very cold February day, only to see us lose to Preston. I thought we might win for my Dad, but was wrong. In May that year, my Dad must have been watching, I was due to take some critical exams the week after the Crewe game, and felt that I couldn't go. It was one o'clock in Bristol on the Saturday, and I cracked. I drove down to Devon and just got into the ground before kick off. I wouldn't have missed that game for the world, the famous police dog game that saved our League place.

In 2000 I was lucky enough to go the USA to work for a few weeks. I had planned to have a few days in San Francisco before flying home. When I found that we had a chance of getting into the play-offs by winning our last home game against Northampton, I brought my flight forward and missed my days in San Francisco to get to Plainmoor. We lost!

I am very proud to be a Torquay fan, nothing will ever change that. When Roberts was in charge, my Torquay fan days were very dark. Now I think we have every reason to be optimistic with a good manager, a first class ground and some fine talent in the team. My heroes have been Mickey Cave (God bless him) and, more recently, Tim Sills. We will have more great days, I am sure, and my Dad would be proud to see how well the team have done in the past 25 years since he died.

I think the first time I went to Torquay was in 1994. I was one year old and my parents thought it was too far to take a one year old to the usual holiday destination of Newquay. That holiday must have been good as we went to Torquay every year until 2007 which is how I got into supporting the Gulls. Somehow until I was about 5 years old, I liked Newcastle United, no idea why but I then switched for some reason to Manchester United and supported them until 2003.

In August that year, we traveled down to Torquay from Stoke on Trent as usual for two weeks but this year would be different although I had no idea at the time. For reasons that I cannot remember, my dad and I went to Plainmoor for the game against Rochdale on the 21st August if I remember right (maybe wrong). I don't remember much about the game apart from the fact Torquay lost 3-1 and a player was sent off, may have been Craig Taylor or Matt Hockley. After the game, we went into the shop but it was too packed to look at anything so we came back a few days later and I left with that year's home shirt, and a pennant which came to university with me this year. After this time, I was a Torquay United supporter and every time we went on holiday we would always go and see a game if we could.

Living in Stoke meant that it was difficult to get to home games but there were always a few away games in the area like Port Vale, Shrewsbury, Burton and Crewe which were always good fun, apart from the sleep inducing game at Vale last year on a freezing Friday night ending 0-0. We did manage to get to Wembley for the FA Trophy Final in 2008. It was a great day, until we capitulated in a 1-0 defeat. Certainly the best away game I have ever been to was the Play Off Semi Final against Shrewsbury a few years back, never experienced an atmosphere like it, non stop singing for 90 minutes. I felt so sure that we would go to Old Trafford and brush Stevenage aside but that day was rubbish from the start, ground was almost empty, no atmosphere, we played some of the worst football I have ever seen from a Torquay side and it was clear that Buckle was off.

Last season we went down to Torquay for a weekend away. Torquay seemed to have changed in the four years since we had last been, and not for the better, but I was looking forward to going to Plainmoor again to stand on the Popside for the first time and to (hopefully) see Torquay get three points closer to promotion. I don't know how many were there but the Popside was pretty packed and United played well throughout the game and when we went 1-0 up and Olejnik saved a penalty, Plainmoor was rocking. However, Crewe spoiled the party by scoring in the last minute and I left feeling totally gutted.

In August, I moved to university here in The Netherlands (hence the name). I miss going to see Torquay play but its always nice when in the library studying, I have this website open and can keep right up to date.

We've had some incredible high's in the years I've supported Torquay and some heart breaking low's but would I trade it all to have all the glory that teams like Manchester City and Manchester United enjoy? Never, I love Torquay because I can stand on a terrace for a (fairly) reasonable price, watch players who I can relate to and don't drive Ferrari's and make more money in a week than I will in my entire life. Come what may for Torquay in my lifetime, they will always be the team for me.

Great post.