To celebrate 25 years of the Premier League each week at Football Fancast we’re going to be looking back at a memorable game that took place on the corresponding weekend. This time out we swoon to three moments of magic from a non-flying Dutchman.
Imagine being the Leicester City fan on August 27th 1997 who, at two goals down with just a few minutes to go, decided to leave early and ‘beat the traffic’. This, after all, was a Wednesday night game and his son had school in the morning, a son who was presently tugging on his coat sleeve and walking at an exaggerated slow pace as they navigated the alleyways around Filbert Street. With the naivety of adolescence the kid had desperately wanted to stay; to soak up every last minute of the thunderous atmosphere and root for an unlikely comeback. But the game was over; the father’s decades of watching football told him that, beaten for the first time this season by a terrific Arsenal side with clear title aspirations. That French fella, the weird one with the bookish round glasses who talked about yoga while sounding like Yoda, evidently knew how to put a team together.
As their car honed into view the man reflected on the evening’s entertainment feeling strangely upbeat despite the loss. Leicester had just gone toe-to-toe with the champions tonight and matched them in every department, with their new summer signing Savage from Crewe particularly impressive and quickly forging a midfield trio with Lennon and Izzet that won’t get bossed around by many. It’s a shame that he looks like a poodle in heat but still, a fine purchase for just four hundred grand. And better yet he had been privileged enough to personally bear witness to the majesty of Dennis Bergkamp, the only opposition player that it’s okay for everyone to adore. The non-flying Dutchman’s second goal was all about acceleration, anticipation, and touch as he hared into the box to dink the ball over Kasey Keller. His first was a sumptuous curler; the type that he presumably did every day in training but amidst the frenetic chaos of a live match amounted to visual poetry.
‘That’s something to tell the grandkids one day,’ the man thought to himself. ‘I was there when the great Dennis Bergkamp scored two wonderful goals at Filbert Street’.
As he opened his car door both father and son were startled as the nearby ground exploded into life. Heskey, in the 86th minute, had slid home from close range.
“Don’t worry son, it’s just a consolation,” the man said, and then patiently explained what a consolation was as they drove through the quiet streets to home.
Back in the ground carnage ensued as electric, invigorating belief swept through the Leicester players and fans. Every awarded set-piece was greeted with a throaty roar that would send an army scurrying for cover. Every attack was accompanied by the palpable tension of a cliff-hanger.
As the enthralling game seeped into injury time a cleared home corner was swiftly returned to Foxes stalwart Matt Elliott who found himself in acres of space. He took aim, fired, and saw the ball ricochet off a trailing leg inside David Seaman’s far post. “They just don’t know what a lost cause is,” screeched Clive Tyldesley, barely audible in the exorcism of ecstasy around him.
Amazingly, incredibly, there were another two goals still to come, in the 93rd and 96th minutes respectively and abandoning conventional narrative it is necessary here to begin with the sixth and final twist in a quite extraordinary climax. Once again Leicester were behind. Once again it was a lost cause. Once again a defensive stalwart – this time the hard as oak Steve Walsh – sent the 21,000 present into a bewildered mess of strangulated vowels.
Prior to that though, in between the heavy metal football and drama cranked up to 11, Dennis Bergkamp coolly switched records and played a spot of classical music. Describing the Arsenal striker’s third in mere words – additionally completing the finest hat-trick any IQ is capable of imagining – is like trying to trap a butterfly in a dirty milk bottle: it only eludes and besides it has no business being diminished in such a way. So let’s dispense with any further flowery prose and simply say that deep into added-on time Bergkamp plucked a long-ball from David Platt with his right foot; turned a charging Elliott with his left foot; allowed the ball to roll down his body and then side-footed an arrowed shot high and wide of Keller.
The American keeper – who became a dad to twins the previous day – later admitted to being distracted by incredulity as the forward enacted his balletic vignette. Bergkamp himself later admitted it was his best goal in an Arsenal shirt. Considering the lofty standard of the competition that is high praise indeed.
The beautiful ‘winner’ – for that is what it was at the time of its execution – won that year’s Goal of the Season award by a country mile. What’s more it’s doubtful that anyone who left before the final whistle on that memorable evening ever departed prematurely again.
What happened next
Arsenal did indeed finish as Premier League champions and won the FA Cup too for good measure. The glory years under Wenger had begun.
Leicester ended the campaign in mid-table, a solid foundation from which a successful era under Martin O’Neill was built.