And the Gulls faithful linked arms three-abreast and went out past the playground singing “Rodney Jack, Rodney Jack, Rodney Jack. .”Of course, those singing lads are now mere specks in the sea of faces you see at the new Plainmoor. But as Hodges and I ambled out of the San Siro with Bateson, Dave, Gittens, Newland, Jack and Lenk, the Gulls manager paused and confided: “You know, talking about those days, the funny thing is you almost want to go back to them.”"Really, Kevin?” I said.”Nah,” Kevin chuckled, and then, quite understandably rejecting my request for a lift, sped off in the limo towards the airport.. Jesus Gil y Gil, the owner of Spain’s Cup and League double winner, Atletico Madrid, displays the extravagant bulk and behaviour of the late Robert Maxwell. A languid back- pass from the resigned Imps seemed safe enough as it trickled back to their underrated keeper Barry Richardson Suddenly, from nowhere, Jack appeared on the ball Two defenders had galloped back. Jack dummied one, then shimmied past the other and shot.The game Richardson got a foot to it, but this was just a passing caress as the ball kissed the back of the net Ref D’Urso blew for time Hodges leapt from the dug-out The crowd erupted It seemed like a lot of people back then. “I hope you’re going to put the crapness of the ref in your report,” Dave said rather unfairly as we re-took our places.The rest is history.

Newland’s nerves were suddenly exposed when, going to tip over a speculative punt forward, he instead missed the ball and collided with the rear stanchion This time the Imps did not miss their cue. High ball after high ball was curled in, their burly rearguard massing in the the Gulls’ box Another missed cross and. it was 1-1.At this point, most in the crowd would have settled for the draw The whistles were going up from as early as the 76th minute But Hodges still had his dream. And at that precise moment he executed the masterstroke that would realise it. Off came the stalwart Garry Nelson, and on came Rodney Jack.Of course, Jack was only a kid back then. No one knew quite what to expect as he jogged on with his dreadlocks bouncing in the summer air “Nice haircut,” one Gulls regular observed.

“But has the kid got the legs?”We did not have that long to find out – 14 minutes and 32 seconds, by my reckoning It was the first minute of injury time. As the Gulls prepared to take a free-kick by the opposing corner flag, referee D’Urso pointed out that the said infraction had actually taken place some five yards nearer goal, on the edge of the Imps’ box.From the newly placed kick, Gittens slotted home with a sweet side-foot “There’s only one Johnny Gittens,” sang the crowd. But failure, as they say, breeds the expectation of it, and the mood was far from crowing at half-time as we queued for our then-traditional portion of chips: crisp on the outside, creamy in the middle and grease almost non-existent in the old handy cardboard cones – still the best chips I have experienced in domestic or indeed international stadiums. Travel is our worst enemy.”So incensed were the Gulls supporters by the card-happy ref that they failed to notice the helping hand he had in the first Torquay goal.

Three times in the first 20 minutes the ball went over the West stand from Gulls clearances.Worse, the referee had already booked two key Torquay men, not only Gittens but also Baker himself, after an innocuous challenge which sent an Imps defender down as if shot. “He’s obviously been training at Old Trafford,” a Gulls fan quipped as the Lincoln No 3 made a miraculous recovery and trotted back.Incredibly, the northerner Baker, his 33-year-old blond crop glistening in the sun, was not even a definite Gulls player that day “He’s having to commute,” Dave said “He’s got to find a house for his wife, and it’s not easy Where he comes from 40 grand virtually buys you a mansion. In the first quarter the aerial bombardment from the Lincoln midfield was unrelenting. As he kicked the ball back to Gregg, despite his exterior jocularity, it was clear that Newland was wrestling with his inner demons, but thankfully the Imps were too busy doing more sprints to notice On such crazy paving stones of fate are golden futures laid.

“It doesn’t look good, does it?” Dave said.This was no slight on Newland’s prodigious talent, but as another Gulls fan remarked at the time: “The only player who can beat Ray Newland is Ray Newland himself.” For back then Newland, unthinkable though it seems now, used to have his occasional off days. An aghast Newland then let a dribbling shot from the No 3 keeper Matthew Gregg slip through his hands into the net, when the ball had approached at a mere 3-5 mph. “We took 20,000 to Wembley for that one,” Dave said wistfully.”And where are they now?” I observed, surveying a Plainmoor crowd that I estimated at around 2,645.”If we knew that we wouldn’t be in all the trouble we’re in,” Dave said.Ripples of concern were felt among the Gulls faithful as Ray Newland, deputising for the now unfairly forgotten Rhys Wilmot, fumbled a practice corner. Lincoln played a brutal long-ball game that required tremendous fitness, and we watched with some foreboding as the Imps players performed a series of sprints, despite the almost Mediterranean heat.”Obviously, you get bitter when you’re bottom of the League,” Dave said. “But you’ve got to remember that if it wasn’t for Mike Bateson coming in, this club probably wouldn’t exist. And if Dean Whitehouse hadn’t missed two open goals when he was on loan from Wimbledon, we might have turned things around.”It is sobering to recall that Dave then fondly invoked the, to him, crowning moment in Gulls history up to that point: 1990, the Leyland DAF Trucks Trophy at Wembley, and the 4-1 defeat by Bolton.