'MICKEY Mouse' was the phrase most people used whenever they made reference to the Full Members Cup.

But when we got to the final and beat Charlton in 1987 it was the greatest feeling in the world.

Regardless of all the promotion close calls and the fact there was no European place at stake, it was still the biggest game of our careers - in the grand scheme of things very few players get the chance to play at Wembley. I'd never even been there as a spectator.

On the day of the final itself I kept saying to myself "This game isn't going to pass me by. This game isn't going to pass me by. This game..."

The game passed me by.

I know it was a poor match, all stop-start, and that we had very few shots.

I know that Vince O'Keefe emerged from the shadows, overcame his awful nerves and played a blinder in goal.

I know our fans outnumbered the Charlton fans massively - we had about 30,000 there.

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The only other thing I really remember is there was about five minutes to go when Alan Ainscow played Ian Miller in on the right who swung over a cross which Bob Bolder got a touch on but it fell for Colin Hendry who smacked it in off the post.

The feeling was incredible. You just don't want to leave the pitch at the end.

That's what being a professional is all about - going to the spiritual home of the game and winning.

We celebrated in fine fashion. In the players' bar at Wembley I just drank everything in front of me.

The journey home was even more of a blur than the game.

And the civic reception, which was a brilliant occasion, was only really remembered through photographs!

I was drunk with beer and emotion, and I know there were thousands of others who shared the hangover.

The one thing that did annoy me about it all, however, was the way our new manager Don Mackay - who had replaced Bobby Saxton earlier that season - was so quick to take the credit.

Despite the fact it was largely Bobby's team who'd got us to Wembley, Don, who'd been at the club for five minutes, just couldn't help himself.

"I've got this team to Wembley for the first time in years......"

We had noticed the key difference between Don and Bobby almost immediately.

Where Bobby was calm, relaxed and shy in public, Don was brash, loud and confident almost to the point of being overwhelming.

We learnt quickly that no matter how wrong he was about something, he was still right.

In many ways he was quite arrogant about his approach to the game and would insist on doing things his way.

Don't get me wrong, that's the job of a manager, but usually you expect some kind of input from the players. Not with Don.

He loved talking to the media. To be honest he loved talking to anyone who'd listen.

Fair enough, he was trying to boost the profile of Blackburn Rovers, but eventually he started to think he owned the flipping place.

He wanted an input into all aspects of the club and he was an expert at everything from how many tea bags were needed for the perfect brew to which soap powder should be used on the kit.

But, at the same time, he did bring us results and he took us as close to the First Division as we could possibly get without actually making it.

If our Full Members Cup triumph was one of the highlights of my career, then losing in the play-off final of 1989 has to be the nadir.

We had been in the play-offs before under Don and we felt good about the home and away final to Crystal Palace.

The home leg was a strange affair. Howard Gayle scored twice and missed a penalty. Then they came back with one before I grabbed a late goal to make it 3-1.

That should have been enough for a team as well-organised and disciplined as ours.

I was rooming with Scott Sellars on the night before the second game and I don't think either of us slept a wink.

We just kept spinning it round in our heads and talking about how this was the best chance we'd ever get.

The Selhurst Park leg was a disaster.

Every Blackburn fan knows, and I'm pretty sure most Palace fans would admit, that referee George Courtney had a nightmare.

There was definitely a foul by Colin Hendry but it was definitely outside the box. And that penalty cost us a place in the top-flight.

When we were 2-0 down, I hit this shot from 20 yards, the sweetest volley of my life, but the keeper made an incredible save.

I knew then it wasn't going to be our day.

We conceded a third in extra time, most of which we played with thousands of Palace fans encroaching on to the pitch.

Courtney should have stopped the game and insist they move back.

When the whistle went and I had finally fought my way to the tunnel I just sat down and started crying.

I really thought we were there this time, that we'd finally laid to rest the hoodoo.

Ian Wright, who partnered Mark Bright in an awesome forward line, put an arm round me.

"Hard luck."

He meant it and that meant a lot to me.

Wright was a brilliant player who put so much work into his game.

I know he's remembered for his goals, particularly with Arsenal, but his off-the-ball-work was excellent as well.

I'd love to have played with him because he was so generous.

Years later, when I was at Wycombe, we watched an Ian Wright video on the way to the play-off final for inspiration.

I'd have paid to watch him, though obviously not when he moved to Burnley!

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