21 September 1983, Wembley. Denmark 1–0 England.
By Hamish McTavish
A dark Wednesday, a soaking pitch, and seventy-nine thousand who had been sold a group they were supposed to stroll. ITV had Brian Moore and Brian Clough. The Archbishop of Canterbury was in the box. The sides wore black armbands for Artemio Franchi. Bobby Robson had been in the job a year and thirteen matches, and the papers had already given him Paris. The Express, on the January morning the names came out of the hat, had put England on easy street. Steve Curry wrote that they could not have hand-picked more favourable opposition. Ron Greenwood, packing his desk, said you could not disguise that this was a very good group for us. Hungary, Greece, Denmark, Luxembourg. Cake. Then they had to play it.
Denmark were not supposed to be the problem. They had beaten Italy 3–1 a year earlier and nobody in Fleet Street had filed that as a warning. When the two sides met in Copenhagen in September 1982, England left with a 2–2 that Robson called a travesty if they had won. Jesper Olsen scored in the last minute. Harry Miller, in the Mirror, allowed that perhaps they had all underestimated a Danish side. The rest of the street kept the map. England beat Greece 3–0, put nine past Luxembourg, beat Hungary 2–0 at Wembley, and Frank McGhee had them striding towards the finals. Denmark, in the fortnight before they came to London, dismantled France 3–1 in Copenhagen. France would win the thing. The street did not redraw the map. Wembley in September rain still looked, on the English page, like a formality with a nice coat.
They kicked off anyway.
England froze. That is not a metaphor. The papers, in the morning, wrote the word frightened a lot, because that was what it looked like: a home side that had been told the occasion was too big and then played as if they believed it. Sammy Lee, John Gregory and Ray Wilkins did not function as a midfield. Paul Mariner and Trevor Francis waited for a ball that did not arrive as a chance. John Barnes, nineteen, was taken off. The Danes were quicker to the second ball and more interested in the first. Then, just after the thirty-sixth minute, the ball bounced up and struck Phil Neal on the hand. England disputed it, which is what you do when easy street has a handball on it. Alexis Ponnet pointed at the spot. Allan Simonsen, who had already been the best player in Europe, put it away. The Guardian, with a night to think, did not look for a vegetable. Simonsen's penalty stuns sad England.
That is the turn, and they do not get another. Ole Kjær made the save at the end that the photographs kept: Luther Blissett, on for Lee, and the last gasp, and the Danish keeper on the floor with the night still his. Søren Lerby was booked late. Michael Laudrup had already gone off at the interval so Preben Elkjær could finish what the first half had started. When Ponnet blew, the England players were jeered off, and a section of the ground turned on Robson as he made the long walk to the dressing-room. The Danes went for a lap. Simonsen and Jens-Jørn Bertelsen at the front.
Robson called it the blackest day of his career. He was not wrong, and he was not finished. England would go to Hungary and win 3–0, which is the part of the campaign the English memory likes because it makes the group look like a conversation. Denmark put six past Luxembourg the same night. Then the Hungarians beat the Danes, and for a week the street allowed itself to dream. On 26 October the mathematics were ugly and simple. Denmark had to match England. ITV put the last half-hour on from Athens so the country could watch hope die before the Luxembourg highlights. Simonsen scored again. England beat Luxembourg 4–0 and went home with a so-what and a point that was not enough. Robson offered the FA his resignation and suggested Brian Clough. They kept him. The tabloids, having been unmerciful on the Thursday after Wembley, would be unmerciful for another year, until a night in the Maracanã bought him time.
Simonsen had the penalty and the lap and the second heartbreak in Athens. Kjær had the save. Sepp Piontek had the side Greenwood had filed under not a major obstacle. Neal had the hand the ball found. Wilkins had the armband on a night the midfield did not work. Robson had easy street, then the blackest day, then the walk. The Express had the draw. The Guardian had sad. The crowd had frightened, and they wrote it on him as he went down the tunnel.
They said easy street. They said hand-picked. They said a very good group. They said Denmark were not the problem. If you still think it was only a qualifier, a funeral is only a Tuesday. It was the night they missed a European Championship they had already packed for, on a wet Wembley pitch, from a spot they swore they had not given. The road from hell started at the hand.
Wembley in the rain is supposed to be their weather. The ball did not agree. It sat in the puddles and jumped at Neal and sat up for Simonsen, and the home side treated that as misfortune rather than a night they had been warned about in Copenhagen. Barnes had five caps and the left side and nothing to chase. Francis, who had scored twice in the 2–2, waited for a repeat. Mariner waited with him. The inventive lot were in red. That is the picture: not a smash, a slow refusal to play the group they had drawn as a formality. The Archbishop sat through it. Clough talked through it. The street woke up the next morning and discovered the map had been wrong since January.
The film is up. ITV still have the wet, the spot, Kjær on the floor, Robson walking. Do not review it. Watch the street get shorter.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Helk5fZhTpI
Related reading
- Put the kettle on, mother — Wembley 1973, Poland, another qualifier night that closed a door
- On the road to oblivion — Düsseldorf 1988, Robson again, Netherlands 3–1, the road still open
If the nights sit right, the shirts and the wall are at /shop.
FAQ
What was the score when Denmark beat England at Wembley in 1983?
Denmark 1–0 England, on 21 September 1983 at Wembley. Allan Simonsen scored from the penalty spot.
Why “Easy street”?
The Express line after the Euro 84 draw — England on easy street, opposition they could not have hand-picked more favourably — before Denmark made the street short.
Did England still reach Euro 84?
No. They beat Luxembourg on the last night and still finished short; Denmark matched what they needed from Athens. Robson offered his resignation and was kept.