1985: The greatest sporting year

I've been putting this off for years. But the recent Live Aid nostalgia has pushed me over the edge. We've all had the debate in the pub about the greatest sporting year - no, just me then? - so I'm here to argue the case for 1985. After forty years, it is time to tell 1985 that I'm crazy for you.

There are of course many factors involved in your chosen favourite sporting year. Allegiance matters. Therefore, Manchester United winning a treble, Europe collapsing in the Ryder Cup, and Australia winning two World Cups means I don't want to party like it's 1999. Yet pushing all this irrational stuff to one side, there can be no doubting the credentials of 1985.

Yes it was a year when I didn't have a care in the world. Approaching the ripe old age of ten, I felt like I spent that summer walking on sunshine, even if in reality the weather was often dreary. Many of us are probably guilty of viewing our past through rose-tinted specs - you may have picked this up if you've read at least two of my blogs - yet the examples below hopefully dismiss the notion of all of this being wistful tosh.

The black ball final

Where to begin with my case for a year that Marty McFly was so desperate to get back to? Well approximately 12:23am on the morning of April 29 is a solid foundation to build from. The black ball final between Steve Davis and Dennis Taylor is one of those events that needs no further explanation. But ignoring that....

Davis, a three-time world champion racing into an 8-0 lead against Taylor, the loveable Irishman with the funny glasses. The comeback of all comebacks. The final frame, the final black. Ted Lowe's simple exclamation of "No" as Davis fluffed his chance. Approximately 18.5 million watching on BBC 2 as Taylor celebrated and his local community were dancing in the street.

It was a fine year for Northern Ireland in sport. Barry McGuigan won the world featherweight championship and the BBC Sports Personality of the Year, with the national football team also qualifying for the World Cup. 

Cricket, lovely cricket

Timing is everything. If I had stumbled on cricket in 1989 then I'm not so sure I would have fallen in love with the sport so easily. If I was a Gen Z child then the chances are that cricket would have passed me by. But 1985 provided the perfect ingredients.

Success in the Ashes helped. Admittedly these were not vintage England and Australia teams, but winning the urn got me hooked on the sport, and from this point on I was trapped. That first summer, the joy of hearing Soul Limbo and listening to Richie Benaud, new heroes in Robinson, Gower, Lamb, Botham and Ellison. The Wayne Phillips incident.

It wasn't just the Test match scene that we could cherish in 1985. Most summers always seemed to involve a nail-biting one day final or two in the 80s, with the 1985 NatWest Trophy final one example of this. Call me a dinosaur if you want, but give me this any day over the tournament we now have to endure every August. It makes me want to cry.

Ending the drought

A wise man once said that timing is everything. I thought I was lucky enough to experience Seve winning at St Andrews for my first Open Championship in 1984, yet twelve months later Britain's search for a champion golfer ended with Sandy Lyle's triumph at Sandwich. But there was more to come.

The Ryder Cup had been on the road to nowhere for decades before the introduction of European golfers in 1979 gradually turned the tide. At the Belfry in September 1985, 28 years of hurt ended as Sam Torrance sunk the winning putt to seal Europe's victory. And like any decent Johnny Come Lately, I jumped on this glorious bandwagon.

Things would never be the same again. The close run thing in 1983 was one thing, yet Europe's 1985 win helped to create the great event that we see today. As we move closer to the 2025 Ryder Cup and Americans asking for appearance money, you may think 1985 has a lot to answer for. But viewed in isolation, those three days at the Belfry were glorious.

What a show

Teenage kicks

Before Wimbledon 1985, my only real interaction with tennis had been viewing hilarious clips of John McEnroe moaning at umpires during tournaments, the "you cannot be serious" shout a favourite of many impersonator at the time. 

I knew very little about the sport. Viewing Wimbledon for the first time, I fully expected McEnroe to win the tournament again. What I didn't cater for was a 17-year-old unseeded German arriving on the world scene, playing tennis that seemed to be years ahead of its time.

Boris Becker had won Queens in the run-up to Wimbledon, so those in the know may have been aware of his abilities. Yet watching the young German dive around centre court, playing keepy uppies with a tennis ball, and go all the way at Wimbledon 1985 added to that amazing sporting summer. The next couple of decades I would very much be a part-time lover of tennis when it came to Wimbledon, and that was all down to Boris. 

The boys in blue

I'm not going to completely bury my head in the sand. Not everything was perfect regarding sport in 1985. Football was in a right mess. The horror of Heysel saw English clubs banned from Europe, with the tragedy of the Bradford fire highlighting the state of stadiums and disregard for fan safety. A television blackout at the start of the 85/86 season added to the despondency.

But there was still a fine team to emerge from this year of darkness. Liverpool's dominance was becoming boring to those outside Anfield, three consecutive league titles, and three trophies in 1983/84 adding to their growing reputation. But the one trophy that got away in 1984 pointed the way to a new challenger.

Everton winning the 1984 FA Cup completed a remarkable change of fortune under Howard Kendall, and the momentum behind his superb team continued. A stunning unbeaten run propelled the team to their first league title since 1970 and the European Cup Winners' Cup. Sadly, the FA Cup final proved one match too many.

It takes a lot for football fans to appreciate a rival. But what a team. What memories. One of the finest goalkeepers to have ever played the game; the Ratcliffe/Mountfield partnership; that midfield quartet of Sheedy-Reid-Bracewell-Steven; Goodison Park's finest night. Even their appearance on Wogan cannot take away any of the love and pride Kendall's team created for their supporters.

There's more

Convinced yet? Well here are a few more memories as I completely drown in a sea of reminiscence. The classic Challenge Cup final; commentators such as Alliss, Carpenter, Coleman, Davies, Motson, French, McLaren, Walker, Benaud, Waddell, Lowe, Moore, Maskell. A Question of Sport in its heyday.

Nigel Mansell winning his first Grand Prix in an era of Prost, Piquet and Senna; admittedly there were no major athletics championships, but what about Steve Cram breaking three world records in 19 days; unforgettable FA Cup semi-finals at neutral club grounds; the emergence of Mike Tyson; Hagler v Hearns! The BBC Sports Personality of the Year review summing up the year in a way that we can only dream of now.

Ok Grandad/Ron Manager, give it a rest. I'm sure you have your own personal favourite years and I would be delighted to hear about them. But take on me in a debate about the best sporting year and I'm your man when it comes to arguing for 1985. I've possibly crammed in a few too many song titles from that year into this article. But 1985, I'm saving all my love for you.