‘We didn’t know who the hell you were’

Nigel Spink, goalkeeper: The first thing I must say is we are all devastated to learn of Gary Shaw’s death. Gary was such a big part of Aston Villa and the club’s European Cup success. My role in the win over Bayern Munich in the 1982 final was a much more unexpected one.

The whole scenario for me was surreal because back then there was only one substitute in the league, so a goalkeeper was never on the bench. I played for the reserves in the old Central League and my only other first-team game had come in 1979. Having five substitutes in the European Cup was a novelty – but very rarely did a substitution happen for tactical reasons. As subs, we thought we were highly unlikely to get on. Then I came on nine minutes in because Jimmy Rimmer was injured.

I didn’t have a chance to get nervous. There weren’t four or five minutes to get my shin pads on, tie-ups sorted … I just took my sweatshirt off, I was ready to go. The gloves were on. Within about 30 seconds, Bayern put an aimless ball into my box and I claimed it, got a good feel of the ball and felt a part of it. I speak now to some of the supporters who were there and they say: ‘We didn’t know who the hell you were. Jimmy had been goalkeeper for five years, had hardly missed a game.’

It is always round the corner, even after all these years. I’ve had supporters come up to me everywhere from Australia to South Africa. There are quite a few Villa supporters in work; I deliver palletised freight and if I go into a business in the Netherlands, six times out of 10 I’ll jump out and the forklift driver will recognise me and we’ll have the ’82 chat. When I started my own business I went into The Pallet Network in Birmingham. Thirty seconds after pulling out, I got a phone call and it was a guy called Mark Kendall, who was the network’s managing director. Mark was Villa’s No 3 goalkeeper in ’82 … and he ended up becoming my boss.

I’m going to the Bayern game [on 2 October]. I think it will be an emotional but fantastic night. Three years ago I emailed Bayern asking if they had my shirt. Myself and my wife go hiking every year in the Alps and our route took us on the autobahn past the Allianz Arena. I got an email from Bayern’s museum saying they’d love to do a swap, because I got Manfred Müller’s jersey on the night. They looked after us like king and queen. We had a tour around the stadium, lunch – they made a real fuss of us.

Billy Connolly helped settle the nerves

Gary Williams, defender: We scored in the 67th minute in the final and it seemed there was an awful long way to go. We dropped back a little bit and those last 20 minutes seemed like 90 as they threw the kitchen sink at us. I was up against Karl-Heinz Rummenigge but I pushed forward a lot in the second half and when I watched the game back, Brian Clough said on TV: ‘He might regret this.’ And I did, I was really tired. But you just wanted to be a part of it all the way through. It does stay with you. It doesn’t shape your life … but it’s a massive part of it.

The other thing that sticks out is how relaxed everybody was. I remember getting dressed to go the game and Radio 1 were wishing Villa all the best and it was like: ‘Gosh, yeah, this is a big match.’ On the coach from the hotel in Amsterdam to Rotterdam, we seemed to have the right atmosphere. One of the players brought a tape of a comedian, I’m sure it was Billy Connolly, and it was a really good call because we were all just laughing and joking and listening, and sort of forgetting what we were going to do.

The following season we came across Juventus in the quarter-finals and they were a bit like the Real Madrid galácticos. Full of superstars: Platini, Boniek and they had six or seven Italy internationals. Over the two legs they were a better side than us. In the league, there was a bit of turmoil. Doug Ellis returned as chairman and basically dismantled the side over a couple of years. It was a real key moment for Villa. We went down in 1987 and looking in the dressing room that season it was almost like playing in the reserves, because there were so many young players. We fell out of the league, five years after winning the European Cup.

I remember watching a game on TV and thinking: ‘I swear I just saw my name.’ It was the first time I saw Brian Moore’s commentary of the 82 goal on the banner in the North Stand: “Shaw, Williams, prepared to adventure down the left. There’s a good ball played in for Tony Morley. Oh, it must be! And it is!! Peter Withe!!” Whenever the camera pans up to the stand, it does give you a warm feeling.

Nike boots caused blisters the size of eggs

Tony Morley, winger: A lot people don’t know Villa had done a deal with Nike to wear their boots for the final, and at the time they were like concrete. I didn’t wear them – myself and Gary Shaw had our own sponsors – but three or four of the lads got blisters the size of eggs. I was thinking after the game: ‘We could have lost the European Cup on that.’ Is there any other team that have won a European Cup when four or five of the lads have put new boots on and spent three-quarters of the game with blisters? It wouldn’t happen now.

After the game, we had to wait for quite a long time for Peter Withe and Ken McNaught because they had to have drug tests. Ken and Withey saw a bloke walking up and down with crates of Heineken beer, got hold of them and cracked the Heinekens open because they were that dehydrated they couldn’t pass any fluids. About an hour later, they came into the dressing room half tanked up having had more drinks than us. By then, the rest of the lads had got showered, changed and were wanting to go to the afterparty in Amsterdam, where our partners were waiting for us.

It is the pinnacle of Villa’s history. I hope this Villa team can go on and do the same; the place is absolutely buzzing. In Unai Emery’s team now Morgan Rogers has caught my eye. He’s a big lad who wants to run with the ball, which was my game. He goes at people from midfield and he can make these incredible 70-yard runs, very similar to Dennis Mortimer, which are hard to pick up. He’s got power. The modern game is not suited to defending so if you run at people, they’re often terrified.

Wer hat mein Trikot?

Dennis Mortimer, captain and midfielder: The headline in the German magazine 11Freunde reads: [Wer hat mein Trikot?] ‘Where is my shirt?’ If you look at any of the photos from after the final, you’ll see some of our team have Bayern shirts on after swapping on the pitch. But I kept my Villa shirt. Our kit man said to the rest of us: ‘Do you want me to take your shirts in and swap them for Bayern ones?’ He came back with the shirts that were left; the big names like Rummenigge, Hoeness and Breitner had been snapped up. Now my nephew, Craig, is doing everything to find my shirt. If we can find mine, then I’ll give the Bayern one I have, which belonged to Udo Horsmann, to whoever’s got it.

This season Villa will play eight games just to qualify for the knockout rounds. We played eight games to get to the final. Now it is at least 14 games to get to the final. It is a different ballgame now … at our training camp in Rotterdam we couldn’t try things out like free-kicks and set plays because there were too many people around watching. That season we had a manager – first Ron Saunders, then Tony Barton, who had been our chief scout – and we had a coach, Roy MacLaren, and a physio, Jim Williams. That was it. There was nobody doing analysis, nutrition or GPS data. It was very much: ‘Are you up for it today?’

To win that trophy after winning the First Division … you couldn’t wish for two better seasons. I mean, where do you go from there? Lifting the trophy, that moment lives with you for ever. It’s the most iconic trophy a player can win at club level; you admire its sheer size, the big handles, the bulbous body. In those days everyone could take the trophy home, so I went into the club and drove it home in a box. I invited my family down from Liverpool and my son, Richard, was about two – so I fitted him in it and took a photo.

We beat Barcelona to win the Super Cup in 1983 and dreamed of winning the European Cup two seasons on the trot like Nottingham Forest had done in 1979 and 1980. Losing was tough.

‘Where has the European Cup gone?’

Colin Gibson, defender: We took the trophy to local pubs and supporters’ clubs. Myself and Gordon Cowans were in the Fox Inn, near Tamworth, and suddenly: ‘Where has the European Cup gone?’ I was absolutely cacking it. It was two or three hours of absolute hell. The lads ripped me to bits. ‘Gibbo, you’re the only one who has won the European Cup and lost it as well.’

A few hours later we got a phone call from police saying they had located it. A man had taken it off the bar and driven up to Sheffield before handing himself in.

I was sat next to Spinky on the substitutes’ bench. ‘Well, Nige, all the best mate, we’ll be watching, no pressure.’ We just took the mick, really. We only used 14 players to win the league the previous season, which is incredible. We had something special; it wasn’t just one player who we needed to play well to win a match.

We won the league in 81, the European Cup in 1982 and then I got married. My wife, Kim, who I met when I was 17, worked at the club on the front desk and then climbed the ladder. You would never have thought it would take 41 years to get back into the competition.

In those days you didn’t get paid that much – I was on about £300 a week, plus bonuses. I sold my winner’s medal to buy a new car after I’d finished playing when I was struggling to get a job. But it doesn’t take the memories away. I would love the club to win the Champions League – everyone says you wouldn’t because we were the only ones to have done it, but I’d be chuffed because it’s a club you love.