Almost 30 years ago, fans of clubs all over England were glued to their screens watching our mighty “Three Lions” take on “The Albicelestes”, or “Sky Blue and Whites” of Argentina, in what was to be a pulsating encounter in the 1986 World Cup Finals.
Now, we all know the story … the game at a Quarter Finals stage would be a tense affair, not to mention being only a few years after the frictional Falklands War. The rivalry was set and the venue was Mexico City. England found themselves ahead, but sandwiched between a precious lead and a memorable solo goal that rightly went down in footballing folklore as one of the all-time greats, a man, possibly the smallest man on the entire pitch for that matter, managed to out-jump the not-so-tiny Peter Shilton between the English goalposts and performed a leap and motion not out of place on a basketball court. It resulted in Diego Maradona producing one of the most obvious injustices in sporting history, with a handball that forced the ball in the net and ultimately won Argentina the game, ending England’s honest hopes in the process.
The English were seething. The Argentinians were partying hard. And watching from somewhere out there was a young 7-year-old Argentinian boy, who unknowingly would go onto use his hands in the right way on a football field, an English football field. Perhaps this was a subtle, yet ironic wrong that had been righted?
It wasn’t till many years after that match in 2001 that football fans in the UK got to see glimpses of this goalkeeper on a bigger stage. That stage would be at Scottish club, Dundee, for 3 seasons, where scouts duly noted his performances and attributes and one set of scouts in particular – those of Crystal Palace Football Club.
The year was 2004. Crystal Palace had just been promoted to the Premier League via the euphoria of play-off final glory at the Millennium Stadium just a couple of months prior. The team felt they could take on the world and the confidence oozing through the players, the management and the thousands of fans shone through in abundance.
Palace followers, not at all used to the luxury of being labeled a Premier League side, exchanged excited banter and suggestive targets of whom the club might buy in the close season. Names were signed, none of which anybody had heard of before, probably most notably a goalkeeper called Julian Speroni. I mean seriously, who gets excited by a keeper? “Keepers stop things if we’re in trouble, but we don’t need to worry about that. We have Wayne Routledge and Andy Johnson to propel us up the league” was one quote to that effect I remember distinctly on the fans forums.
Bring it on! … First day of the season, a capacity crowd at a gloriously sunny Selhurst Park and an atmosphere that provided a sensational advantage to the home players taking on Everton. It proved effective within the first few minutes as Routledge nipped past the hapless Everton full-back to cross to the far post with Mark Hudson waiting to pounce and put the home side in the lead early on.
Then came an extraordinary moment. It wasn’t a moment that would otherwise be memorable in any other set of circumstances on a football field. Julian Speroni received a backpass that 99.9% of the time would get thumped down the field away from danger. Yet, in a moment of madness, the Argentine attempted to outfox the onrushing Kevin Campbell and calamitously resulted in fouling the striker and thus leaving the referee with no choice in awarding a spot-kick. That was 1-1; the mentality around the ground changed and Palace would go on to comfortably lose 3-1. Fans predictably pounced on Speroni, slating his suicidal antics that cost the home side the match. He would only last five more games that season, before being replaced by Hungarian, Gabor Kiraly. Palace ended up relegated that season and over the next couple of campaigns, Speroni’s cameos did little to increase the Palace Faithful’s hopes, some performances even prompting remarks of “Spilloni” as he would struggle to hold onto loose balls and assert his authority on the match. Little did they or any of the footballing world know, however, that his opening mishap against Everton on his club debut would, in fact, serve as a spark for a prolonged love affair between the club and the player. Eleven years later, he has not only retaken the throne between the sticks, but also endeared himself into a perpetual, rapturous applause from those that come to cheer the team every Saturday afternoon.
The transformation is not to be underestimated and his loyalty to the club that stuck with him through thick and thin is to be even less so. Especially in today’s game, filled with extortionate greed in players’ transfer fees, salaries and the media-heavy corruption of FIFA, finding anybody in the game that has passed opportunities and offers from elsewhere to remain at a club that he loves to the hilt, is a rarity indeed.
A mix of incredible shot-stopping and lightning reflexes on the pitch and being a true gentleman and charming personality off it, have earned Julian Speroni legendary status amongst fans of all generations. It was a marriage that looked like it would never take off all those years ago. It was a debut to forget. Yet it was the moment he points towards in kick-starting the ultimate U-turn in popularity. “Young” and “naïve” were some of the words banded about by the man himself, looking back on the incident. He may have been. That aside, he was an excellent keeper and a series of assured performances and Man-of-the-Match displays over the following seasons would propel him onto a level of assurance with the fans. Among the subsequent years would be endless heroic moments, from “the save of the century” in an away game at Charlton in 2008 to producing two stunning clean sheets in the playoffs in the 2012/13 season, keeping out Ashley Barnes of arch-rivals Brighton in the Semi-Final and Troy Deeney for Watford in the Wembley Final itself.
Four consecutive “Player of the Year” trophies were awarded in recent years. Instrumental in keeping Palace up for the first time in the club’s history, the athletic keeper was at his best again in the recent 2013/14 season, getting rave reviews from a more predominant worldwide audience that comes with the glitz of the Premier League. This would be followed by Palace conquering the “second season syndrome”, synonymous with promoted teams finding it difficult to avoid the dreaded drop two years running. Under the stewardship of another Palace “legend”, Alan Pardew, currently working miracles with the club’s fortunes, the “South London and Proud” club enjoyed a comfortable mid-table finish, with Speroni’s 11th year of pulling on the gloves a key part of the record 48 points total achieved by the side.
The 2014/15 campaign ended fittingly with a much-anticipated testimonial match. Such is the nature of this warm and kind man, his team of choice to play against The Eagles were the team that showed faith in him from the start, Dundee. He never forgets. And nor did the travelling sea of white who did their club proud, bringing over 2,000 fans on a Tuesday night to pay tribute to a man of mutual love between both sets of fans. The match itself attracted a joint crowd of 11,500 and produced over £175,000 going to several of Julian’s preferred charities.
The fans roared in unison, upon his heartwarming speech during half-time, thanking those around him, from his family and friends, to the fans, team-mates, management and owners. It was a roar produced by a loving crowd, so rarely seen and heard in today’s game.
Steven Gerrard received a stunning send-off by the Merseysiders at the close of this season. Julian Speroni received no less from the Holmesdale Fanatics and co.
The 36-year-old currently has one more season on his Palace contract, a contract that he openly admits he’d like extended as long as possible to ensure he ends up hanging up his boots at the club of famous red and blue.
Diego Maradona – a footballing legend with the ball at his feet, a worst enemy when it came to his hands. For his Argentine counterpart, Julian Speroni achieved both legendary status and the use of his hands with commendable aplomb. His rightful name: Manos de Dios. Funny how things work out, isn’t it?
