Incredible Moments in Sport

Cantona’s kung fu kick

25th January 1995

All eyes at the start of the match were on Manchester United’s new record signing Andy Cole. It was his strike partner Eric Cantona who made all the headlines however, and for all the wrong reasons.

Cole had just been signed from Newcastle United for an English record £7 million to play alongside Cantona, who had been an inspired signing by Alex Ferguson. Having been enticed away from reigning champions Leeds for a bargain £1.2 million in 1992, Cantona was a key figure in the Man Utd side that won two Premier League trophies in as many years, their first since 1967. His silky skills and spectacular goals had made him a huge favourite at Old Trafford, but his strutting style, trademark upturned collar and propensity to get himself sent off made him a regular target for opposing fans.

Chasing a third consecutive title in 1994/95, United found themselves battling with high spending Blackburn Rovers. Fired by the goals of their prolific striker Alan Shearer, Rovers had closed a sixteen point gap to trail only on goal difference the previous season before slipping away at the end to finish runners-up to United, eight points behind the champions. Owner Jack Walker had given manager Kenny Dalglish even more money to spend on players in the close season, and they had themselves broken the English transfer record to sign a strike partner for Shearer, Chris Sutton. The two gelled quickly and started scoring freely, propelling Blackburn to the top of the table.

With Cantona in fine form, United were not far behind, and when he scored his twelfth goal of the season to secure a 1-0 victory against the leaders at Old Trafford, heading in a Ryan Giggs cross at the back post, United were hot on the heels of Rovers. With Cole just having signed as well, it was looking ominous for Blackburn.

Three days after their victory over Blackburn, United were playing again, looking to claim another three points away at struggling Crystal Palace. The match had started uneventfully, with no goals in the first half. Cantona was kept quiet by Palace’s man-to-man marking, carried out vigorously by Richard Shaw, and although United felt that the Frenchman wasn’t being given enough protection from some heavy challenges, referee Alan Wilkie dismissed their protests. Ferguson had noticed that Cantona was becoming frustrated, and cautioned him at half time not to allow himself to be provoked, but his warning fell on deaf ears, and shortly after the restart Cantona kicked out at Shaw after another strong challenge. His offence was spotted by Wilkie, who had no hesitation in showing him the red card. Cantona had to walk the length of the pitch to get to the tunnel, and as he walked along the touchline he was subjected to taunts and abuse from the home fans.

One Palace fan, named later as Matthew Simmons, ran down the steps from his seat in the stand to yell abuse at the Frenchman from just behind the advertising hoardings. Something he said made Cantona stop and turn. He started to run at Simmons, before leaping at him feet first and kicking him in the chest and, as he landed, punching him on top of his head. United kit-man Norman Davies pulled him back before he could launch another assault, but the damage was done. As other nearby fans stood open-mouthed, no-one watching at the stadium or on TV could quite believe what they had just witnessed. Then the United players reacted, angrily rushing over to confront the supporters, thinking that it was their team-mate who had been attacked.

Cantona was eventually led away from the pitch and back to the dressing room by Davies, goalkeeper Peter Schmeichel and two policemen, where he sat in silence, contemplating what he had just done. The club solicitor was quickly summoned, and at the end of the match, which almost irrelevantly ended 1-1, Ferguson was understandably furious, although he tried to play down the incident in his post-match interview.

Speculation soon mounted as to what Cantona’s punishment would be, with some even calling for a lifetime ban. The club itself imposed a four month suspension on their player, and fined him £20,000. An FA hearing later imposed an unprecedented nine month ban on him, plus a further £10,000 fine. Many still thought he’d got off lightly. Cantona also faced criminal charges, and was initially sentenced to two weeks imprisonment by East Croydon Magistrates Court for common assault, although this was reduced to 120 hours of community service on appeal. Following his sentence, United and Cantona gave a press conference during which he uttered just one sentence, his now famous line When the seagulls follow the trawler, it's because they think sardines will be thrown into the sea.

Cantona served his sentence by running coaching sessions for children, but wasn’t allowed to return to the pitch until the following season, with United in his absence having to settle for second place, one point behind Blackburn. Frustratingly for them they would have claimed the title if they had won their final match, with Blackburn having lost their last game against Liverpool, but they could only manage a draw against West Ham. Inevitably, Cantona scored on his return, equalising from the penalty spot to secure a 2-2 draw for United’s old rivals Liverpool. They went on the win the league and cup double.

Barbarians score That try

27th January 1973

The Barbarians invitational rugby side had always had a reputation for daring and attacking rugby, but one moment in their revered history stands out for its skill, flair and brilliance, to such an extent that it has become known in rugby circles simply as that try.

The 1970s was a golden era for Welsh rugby. With six Five Nations titles, including three Grand Slams, the side boasted a string of names that have gone down in Welsh folklore. However, they hadn’t beaten New Zealand since 1953, despite coming agonisingly close in December 1972. What looked like a try by Welsh full-back JPR Williams had been denied by the referee, who thought that Williams had failed to ground the ball fairly, despite having awarded a Keith Murdoch try for the All Blacks in similar circumstances. Wales were trailing 19-16 with a minute to go but had a chance to snatch a draw when they were awarded a penalty. Phil Bennett’s kick hit the post though, and New Zealand held on for their fifth straight win against the Welsh.

Just over a month later, a Baa Baas side featuring seven Welsh stars, plus the cream of English, Scottish and Irish talent, playing at the home of Welsh rugby, Cardiff Arms Park, gave the Welsh supporters a chance for revenge. To give the match extra spice, many of the Barbarians players had successfully toured New Zealand in 1971 with the British and Irish Lions, winning their first ever series against the All Blacks. With TV coverage being nothing like it is today, few people had witnessed the win, and this was their chance to hopefully see a repeat performance.

A raucous Arms Park crowd was expecting something special, and they didn’t have long to wait. With just four frantic minutes played New Zealand wing Bryan Williams sent a kick deep into the Barbarians’ half. Outside half Bennett turned, waited for the ball to stop bouncing, then picked it up ten yards from his own try line. A quick glance over his shoulder revealed All Blacks flanker Alistair Scown bearing down on him with murderous intent. With his team-mates and most of the crowd expecting him to kick the ball to safety, Bennett had other ideas, and he turned and deftly sidestepped the onrushing Scown. Behind Scown were more chasers though, Peter Whiting and Ian Kirkpatrick, and he sidestepped them too. 50,000 supporters roared at his audacity, and he set off towards the New Zealand half.

Bennett sent a raking pass out to his compatriot, JPR Williams. The All Black defence was on top of him as he took the ball, but he managed to get it away to England captain John Pullin a split second before he was clattered by a high tackle from Bryan Williams. Referee Georges Domercq could have awarded a penalty, but he favoured allowing the game to flow and played the advantage. That allowed Pullin to pass to John Dawes, who looked as if he would pass to the outside before finding Tom David in support on his inside as the crowd rose to its feet as one.

David hared forward, into the New Zealand half, before being tackled by Geoff Whiting, but he got his pass away one-handed as he fell to ground. With the All Blacks defence outnumbered, Derek Quinnell brilliantly took the ball from David’s offload from off his toes to keep the move going. Outside him Gareth Edwards was coming at pace, and he screamed for the ball. With perfect timing, Quinnell drew the tackle and fed Edwards, who had forty yards between himself and glory. He took the ball at speed, put his head back and made for the line. Joe Karam came across to attempt a tap tackle, getting got a hand to him, and Grant Batty desperately tried to stop him as he closed in on the line, but it was too little too late. With the noise in the stadium by now deafening, Edwards launched himself at the line, flying over in the corner to complete an incredible score of unparalleled skill.

Commentator Cliff Morgan’s description of the perfect try has become almost as famous as the try itself:

Kirkpatrick to Williams. This is great stuff! Phil Bennett covering chased by Alistair Scown. Brilliant, oh, that's brilliant! John Williams, Bryan Williams. Pullin. John Dawes, great dummy. To David, Tom David, the half-way line! Brilliant by Quinnell! This is Gareth Edwards! A dramatic start! What a score!!.....Oh that fellow Edwards....If the greatest writer of the written word would've written that story no one would have believed it. That really was something.

Edwards was unable to add the conversion, so the Baa Baas led 4-0. The match continued in a similar vein, although never quite reaching the heights of that wonder try. David Duckham was bundled into touch a yard short of the tryline at the end of move started by a scything break by Gerald Davies inside his own 22, then another breathtaking Davies break started a move that saw John Dawes touch down, only for play to be called back for a forward pass.

When the Barbarians did score again it was a scrappy affair, a mistake in a defensive New Zealand scrum allowing Fergus Slattery to pick up the ball and score. Then another turnover gave possession to the Barbarians inside the All Blacks half and quick passing gave Duckham the chance to show his strength to cross for the third try of the match, making it 17-0 at half time.

The start of the second half saw a New Zealand comeback, a Karam penalty getting the on the board, then a Williams break put Grant Batty into space for a fine try of their own. Batty soon scored his second try of the game, running onto a chip kick before himself kicking over Williams and gathering the loose ball to score.

That made the score 17-11, with the All Blacks within a converted try of the Barbarians, but the Baa Baas had one final flourish with which to make the win safe. Duckham started the move, picking up a clearance kick just inside the All Black half and beating four tackles before being held. He offloaded to Quinnell, who fed Dawes, who passed to Williams. Williams found Gibson outside him, who slipped away from two tackles and slipped the ball to Slattery. Slattery got the ball away to Williams as he was tackled, and the fullback stepped outside Karam to cross in the corner. Bennett added the conversion to make the score 23-11, and that was how the match ended.

It was a game full of great enterprise and attacking play from both sides, but it was the opening try that is still remembered as a piece of rugby perfection that has yet to be bettered.

Torvill and Dean’s Bolero perfection

14th February 1984

British medals at the Winter Olympics had been few and far between. Great Britain had not won a single medal for eight years before John Curry in 1976 and Robin Cousins in 1980 won men’s figure skating golds. With just two medals in four Olympics, and only six since the Second World War, British hopes at the 1984 Games in Sarajevo rested once again on the ice, with Jayne Torvill and Christopher Dean.

Torvill and Dean were already three time ice dancing World Champions by 1984, but had finished outside the medals in fifth place in the previous Olympics at Lake Placid​. As reigning World Champions they were understandably favourites for gold, but would face stiff competition from talented Russian pairs Natalia Bestemianova and Andrei Bukin, the World Championship silver medallists, and exciting youngsters Marina Klimova and Sergei Ponomarenk.

The pair had learned from their previous Olympic disappointment, and had both given up their jobs to concentrate on their skating full-time, with funding being provided by Nottingham Council, the city where they lived and trained. They recruited actor and West End star Michael Crawford to work with them and their coach Betty Callaway to create standout routines and to teach them to deliver their performances as an actor would. They had also begun to experiment with the idea of building themes into their routines, interpreting the music and choosing their costumes to complement it in a way not seen before.

For their free dance routine in Sarajevo the pair had chosen to skate to a piece of music called Bolero by French composer Joseph-Maurice Ravel, but faced the problem that it was significantly longer than the four minutes and ten seconds that was the maximum time allowed for an Olympic performance of. A musical arranger was called in, who managed to cut it down to four minutes twenty eight, but it couldn’t be reduced any further without losing its integrity, and was still eighteen seconds too long. However, a close study of the rules revealed that they would be timed from the point when their skates first touched the ice, so ingeniously they created an opening sequence that didn't involve skating at all for the first eighteen seconds.

When they time came they took to the ice in flowing purple and violet costumes to great anticipation, and twenty four million viewers in the UK held their breath. Chris and Jayne knelt in their starting positions, keeping their skates off the ice to prevent the clock from starting. The music started, gently at first, and they began their routine swaying their torsos gracefully around each other like swans.

Gradually the music picked up pace, and Torvill and Dean followed suit, captivating the crowd with the emotion and passion of their performance. With balletic lifts and perfectly synchronised skating they told a story that held the spectators and the global audience in awe.

As the music reached a crescendo, Chris spun Jayne around in the air, then they descended to the ice together the instant the last note ended, and there they lay, visibly panting, their routine complete. The crowd knew they had witnessed something special and rose to their feet, the first standing ovation of the night.

As the cheers continued the world awaited the scores. Surely they had done enough for gold. The technical merit scores were outstanding – three 6.0s and six 5.9s – but as they were leaving the ice laden down with flowers and union jacks a gasp went up as the artistic merit scores were revealed - 6.0, 6.0, 6.0, 6.0, 6.0, 6.0, 6.0, 6.0, 6.0. It was the first, and still the only, perfect score in Olympic history.

Their achievement wasn’t universally celebrated however. As well as the circumventing of the timing rules there were also complaints that didn't use multiple pieces of music during their performance, again stipulated in the rules. The judges accepted however that Bolero had different rhythms and pacing throughout, and this was sufficient. The rules were changed soon afterwards however, making it unlikely that a performance like theirs will ever be seen again.

The pair decided that they needed to start making money from their talents following the Olympics, and turned professional. They created a highly successful ice-show that they toured in the UK, Europe, Australia and the US, but their professional status meant that they were no longer eligible to take part in Olympic competitions. However, the rules changed prior to the 1994 Olympics in Lillehammer, and they started to plan their comeback. They made a triumphant return to competition at the European championships at the beginning of 1994, with a routine based around the song Let’s Face the Music and Dance. It was, once again, a routine that pushed the limits of the rules, but was well received as they claimed the European Championship gold. However, when it came to the Olympics one of their lifts was deemed to be illegal and their score was marked down, to the dismay of the crowd who booed when their scores were announced. Torvill and Dean finished third, taking a disappointing bronze medal, and they returned their attentions to their highly popular tours.

Eddie the Eagle

14th February 1988

Figure skating, bobsleigh , downhill skiing, curling. British athletes had competed in all of those sports at the Winter Olympics, but never in ski jumping. That was, however, until Eddie The Eagle Edwards came along. Although never likely to win a medal, his efforts won the hearts of the nation and the world and he became a national hero anyway.

Michael Edwards, known as Eddie, dreamt of competing at the Olympics. A talented downhill skier, he had narrowly missed out on selection for the GB team for the 1984 Games in Sarajevo. He was also one of the best speed skiers in the world, but unfortunately for him that wasn’t an Olympic sport. In a bid to make it to the 1988 Calgary Games he made the decision to switch to ski jumping. The UK had never had a representative in that event, and he would face little, if any, competition to become the best in Britain.

With no financial backing and having to fund his own training, he found himself a coach in Lake Placid in the USA, and, borrowing kit to begin with, he began his quest to become a world class ski jumper. This wasn’t an easy task however. He had to wear multiple pairs of socks to make the borrowed boots fit and his first helmet was held on with string. He was heavier than most ski jumpers, and his poor eyesight meant that he had to wear his glasses under his goggles, which often steamed up and stopped him from seeing where he was going. He also had to work in his spare time to survive, taking on whatever part time jobs he could find, and was living on the breadline, at one point paying about £1 a day to stay at a Finnish mental hospital. At least he wasn’t afraid of heights, as some rumours had suggested.

Eddie’s first international competition was in the World Championships in 1987. He finished 55th, but that was enough to give him a world ranking and make him eligible for Olympic selection. He was duly selected to compete for Great Britain, and Eddie the Eagle, as he was later nicknamed by the Canadian press, was set to realise his Olympic dream. Edwards was delighted, but the news wasn’t universally welcomed, with some believing that his inclusion in the GB team was an embarrassment with his performances so far behind the other competitors. Many did support him though, admiring the sacrifices he had made to achieve his goal.

Nevertheless, he was on the plane to Canada. His first event in Calgary was the Normal Hill, a terrifying 70 metre long descent at speeds up to 60mph before the jumper launches himself into the air. The nation held its breath as Edwards edged himself out onto the bar at the top of the slope. He adjusted his goggles over his glasses, then he was away. He reached the end of the slope and was airborne. Could he land it safely, or would his Olympics end in immediate disaster? He landed without mishap, and punched the air with both hands in delight. His distance was 55 metres, over 30 metres less than the eventual winner, Finland’s Matti Nykanen, and 16 metres down on his closest rival. His second jump was exactly the same distance, giving him a total points score based on distance and form of 69.2, 71 behind his closest rival and 159 points behind Nykanen. That left him in 58th and last place, but he had completed his two jumps successfully, could now call himself an Olympic athlete, and a star had well and truly been born.

Nine days later he was in action again, competing in the 90 metre Large Hill event. The result was the same, with Edwards finishing last of the 55 competitors, with distances  90m less than the winner, again Nykanen, and well behind the jumps of the 54th place competitor, but he did break the British record with his first jump of 71 metres. Again Eddie the Eagle split public opinion, with some commentators and fellow competitors believing he was making a mockery of the sport whilst others believed he was the epitome of the Olympic ideal that it’s not about the winning, it’s about the taking part.

He had undoubtedly become one of the stars of the Games, and even received a personal mention in the closing ceremony for his efforts. He found himself giving interviews and appearing on talk shows around the world including the renowned The Today Show in the US. An estimated 10,000 fans greeted him when he returned home at Heathrow airport. His legacy even led to a change in Olympic rules. Two years later the International Olympic Committee brought in a rule dubbed the Eddie the Eagle rule, which stated that athletes had to be in the top fifty competitors in the world in order to be considered for selection by their country. Unfortunately Edwards fell foul of this change himself, and he failed to qualify for the 1992, 1994 and 1998 Winter Olympics.

He never competed at the Olympics again, although he was chosen to be a torch bearer for the 2010 Games in Vancouver, and his achievements were brought to a whole new audience in 2016 with the global release of a film based on his life starring Taron Egerton, Hugh Jackman and Christopher Walken – Eddie the Eagle.

Rhona Martin wins gold with The Stone of Destiny

21st February 2002

Curling could never lay claim to the title of Britain’s favourite sport, but when six million people in the UK stayed up past midnight to watch Rhona Martin lead her team in a bid to secure the country’s first Winter Olympic gold since Torvill and Dean in 1984, you’d have struggled to find a sport more talked about.

It had been a long hard road to the final for the all-Scottish quartet of Martin, Debbie Knox, Fiona MacDonald and Janice Rankin. They had narrowly missed out on a medal at the World Championships in 2000, losing the bronze medal match to finish fourth, but that result had announced them on the world stage and had suggested that they were serious contenders for a medal at Salt Lake City two years later.

Martin herself was almost out of the competition before it had even started, just recovering from a stomach condition in time. The problem didn’t seem to affect her or the team’s performance, and they made a strong start to the round robin stage, winning five of their first seven matches. However, successive defeats against USA, by one point after an extra end, and Germany left them with a final tally of five wins and four defeats. That left them with an anxious wait, as Germany could have secured a place in the semi-finals ahead of them had they beaten Switzerland in their last match, but fortunately for GB the Swiss came out comfortably on top.

That meant that Great Britain, Sweden and Germany all finished with identical records, and each would have to play each other in a series of tie-break matches. They managed to win both of those, beating Sweden 6-4 and Germany 9-5, and secured their place in the semi-final where they would face Canada, the team that had beaten them in the World Championship semi-final and which had finished top of the round robin table with just one defeat.

Canada moved into an early 1-0 lead in the first end, but Martin put them back on level terms in the third. GB kept the momentum and moved two ahead in the next, but Canada slowly pulled back to 3-3 with singles in the fifth and sixth. Another good end then put GB in sight of the final at 5-3, but again Canadian skip Kelley Law kept her nerve and used her experience to claw them back to parity with singles in the next two ends. With the score going into the final frame 5-5 and the tension mounting, Martin kept her cool to see her team home, winning the match and a place in the final with a well-placed stone to win 6-5.

Guaranteed at least a silver medal, but hungry for gold, the British team faced a Swiss team led by Luzia Ebnother which had beaten the USA 9-4 in their semi final. A tight and nervy start to the match saw neither side score for the first three ends, before Switzerland edged 1-0 ahead in the fourth. GB hit straight back in the fifth to move 2-1 up, then added another point in the seventh to stretch their lead to 3-1. Could the gold medal be heading their way? Ebnother was doing her best to prevent that, and scored in the eighth and ninth to level the scores at 3-3 with the final end of the competition to play.

Significantly, Martin had the hammer in the final end, which meant that she would deliver the very last stone. When it came to that last stone the Swiss were holding shot, with their red stone fractionally closer to the button than the best GB stone. It would take something special from Martin to turn silver into gold. A picture of intense concentration, Martin prepared to deliver her yellow stone. The cheers started to get louder and louder as it made its way steadily up the ice, closing in on the head. As it started to slow it approached the Swiss stone, then nudged it out of way before nestling on the edge of the button. Martin had done it, winning gold in dramatic fashion with the final stone of the competition, a shot later dubbed the Stone of Destiny.

Never before had curling been so popular in the UK. Martin was awarded an MBE for her achievement, and the yellow stone that she won the gold medal with can now be found in the Scottish Sports Hall of Fame. She led a changed team to the 2006 Winter Olympics in Turin, but their record of five wins and four defeats wasn’t quite good enough to see them through to the semi final. The following year she switched to coaching, and in 2014, now known as Rhona Howie, she helped another all-Scottish four, skipped by Eve Muirhead, to Olympic bronze at Sochi. She then decided to take on a new challenge, becoming high performance coach for Scottish lawn bowls.

Bruno v Tyson

25th February 1989

With his instantly recognisable laugh and catchphrase you know what I mean ‘Arry, heavyweight boxer Frank Bruno was one of the biggest names in British sport in the 1980s in more ways than one. With an impressive record in the ring, with just two defeats, one of them a world title fight against Tim Witherspoon, he was just as popular for his out-of-the-ring activities, laughing and joking in interviews and whenever he met members of the public, as he was as a boxer.

That said, he had never been able to call himself World Champion. Now though he had a chance to change that, albeit against a formidable opponent. Iron Mike Tyson was arguably one of the heavyweight fighters of all time. With 35 wins and no defeats going into the fight, he had become the youngest man to win the WBC, WBA and IBF world titles. He had won his first nineteen professional fights by knockout, twelve of those in the first round. It was billed as a Britain versus America contest, and the nation was backing their man to topple the champion and bring the belt home.

The fight had almost not happened though. Originally scheduled for 8th October 1988 at Wembley Stadium, the bout had to be postponed after Tyson broke his hand in a street fight, pushing it back to 22nd October. He was then knocked unconscious in a car crash, before hearing that his wife was filing for divorce and claiming $125 million for defamation. The Wembley encounter was shelved, with a January 1989 match-up at the Las Vegas Hilton set to replace it. A row between Tyson’s manager and agent delayed matters further, but finally a date of 25th February was agreed on.

As the date drew nearer the media frenzy began. Bruno was everywhere – on TV, radio and on the front as well as the back pages of the papers. He was a national treasure, and the nation