In fairness, the riot had subsided before sunset as chairman Ken Bates shuffled into the lift following Chelsea's relegation.
With delicious comic timing, an audacious journalist sharing the elevator with Bates from the upper floors at Stamford Bridge graciously asked if they were heading in the same direction: “Going down, Ken?” It seemed perfectly reasonable to check, but Bates returned serve with a famously grumpy retort. “I'm off to my 300-acre farm – you lot can bugger off to your council houses,” he chuntered before disappearing towards his Rolls Royce.
Before a gilded age financed by Russian enterprise, Chelsea were relegated as recently as 1988, losing 2-1 on aggregate in two-legged play-off final against Middlesbrough just two years after the Smoggies had cheated extinction with 10 minutes to spare. Ahead of the clubs' FA Cup quarter-final at the Riverside, any Blues fans bleating about sanctions, or the legacy of outlawed owner Roman Abramovich's unsustainable largesse, should heed the tale of Boro's astonishing survival.
Much of the nostalgia may have been generated by Roberto Di Matteo's goal inside 42 seconds at the FA Cup final 25 years ago. And much of the build-up may have beed dominated by Chelsea's tin-eared request to play the game behind closed doors before common sense prevailed over pomposity.
But the most breathtaking chapter of a modern rivalry unfolded when Bruce Rioch confounded mountainous odds by leading Middlesbrough to back-to-back promotions 34 years ago. When Rioch's father, James, was a regimental sergeant-major in the Scots Guards based at Chelsea barracks, they used to watch the Blues from the Shed end, especially when footballing royalty like Stanley Matthews or Tom Finney were in town.
Little did the 24-cap Scotland midfielder know that Fulham Broadway would be the setting for his finest achievement as a manager.
“In those days, the team finishing fourth from bottom in the old First Division and the sides who came third, fourth and fifth in Division Two would contest the play-offs, culminating in a two-legged final,” said Rioch, now 74 and enjoying retirement in Cornwall. “Although we beat Chelsea 2-0 in the first leg at Ayresome Park, there was a definite sense among their supporters that they would overturn the deficit at Stamford Bridge, and that it would be fairly simple.
“It might have looked that way when Gordon Durie scored early for Chelsea in the second leg, but that Middlesbrough team was a band of brothers who had come through liquidation two years earlier, and they knew how to stand their ground. When we look back now, the pitch invasion and what occurred afterwards might have concerned us and we had to take the lads off the pitch as quickly as possible.
“But when the game ended, and we had secured promotion, there was elation for our players and fans but deflation and regret for Chelsea. One can understand that, but our focus was on the achievement of an exceptional group of young men who had survived adversity together.
“We stopped the team coach on the edge of London, at a takeaway somewhere near Barnet, before we hit the A1 on the way home and we all ate fish and chips together on the pavement. Those boys had carried themselves impeccably since 1986 and they were a very humble group of players who gave me one of the most amazing periods of my life.”
That Boro team could play. Gary Pallister went on to win four titles with Manchester United, Stuart Ripley played for England and Rioch's tribute to skipper Tony Mowbray – “If I had to fly to the moon, I'd take Tony with me” - spawned long-running fanzine Fly Me To The Moon. While Chelsea, squeezed by sanctions against Abramovich, squeal about having to travel by bus instead of private jets to away games, Rioch's Boro lived through the real meaning of hardship.
With the gates to Ayresome padlocked, and the club wound up over an unpaid tax bill, pre-season training was held in public spaces at nearby Albert Park with “jackets on the ground as goalposts.”
Rioch parked his car over the water mains manhole cover so players could shower in the stadium's adjacent sports centre, to which he had kept a spare key. But Boro looked doomed to go under when he received a phone call from the matchday police commander at 5pm on the eve of the new season.
“He told me, 'Sorry, but we've run out of time to hold the game at Ayresome Park – I've had to stand down the officers.' And that appeared to be that.“ But Steve Gibson (who took over as Boro chairman that summer and remains in charge) struck a deal with the Football League, 10 minutes before their deadline to let us play or kick us out, which allowed us to start the new season at Hartlepool.
“So on the Saturday, we took up Hartlepool's offer for their home game against Cardiff to kick off early at about 1.30pm, and at 6pm – after both sets of fans had dispersed, we were given dispensation to play a 2-2 draw with Port Vale as the second part of a unique double header. Before kick-off, Tony Mowbray climbed on the treatment table and asked the Hartlepool physio Tommy Johnson, who was helping us out, for a massage.
“Tommy told him, 'Mogga, there's a reason why we have the cheapest bill for olive oil in the whole Football League – because we don't have any.' The togetherness of that group was incredible. They played through liquidation - real adversity – and that ethic still runs through the club today.”
