When Reading became immortal

[jd82]

 Which one of you wrote this then?

Was sent this from Mundial this morning, interesting opening gambit to an article, quoting a chant that I've certainly never heard, doesn't scan in the slightest, and I suspect has never been sung once. Decent enough read for a trip down memory lane though.

(edit - apparently I have heard it, I'm just thick)

Mods - please remove if posting is an issue.

Go to any Reading match, and you will hear:
“ONE-OH-SIX, ONE-OH-SIX, READING FC,
PLAYING FOOTBALL THE COPPELL WAY!”
sung by fans of all ages, including those far too
young to remember when we made footballing
history in 2006.
 
That record-breaking 106-point season has an
immortal life of its own in Berkshire. Its
presence is felt in random lines from that
campaign’s End of Season DVD that my brother
and I still drop seamlessly into conversation. It
still breathes in the fact that we will begin our
meetups in the 2020s with: “So, I was reading
James Harper’s Wikipedia the other day…” And
its beating heart could be felt in every tennis ball
thrown onto the pitch in protest back in
September 2023. If we hadn’t seen such riches,
we could live with being poor…
It lives on most vividly in my mind’s eye, though.
Not just because of the glory but also because
of how wonderfully unexpected the whole thing
was.
“It’s exactly the same as last season!”
That is the voice of 14-year-old me. It’s August
6th, 2005, and I have just slumped down into
my seat on the bus, waiting to be driven away
from the Madejski Stadium, where Reading
have just conceded a 90th-minute winner to
Plymouth Argyle on the opening day of the
Championship campaign.
That afternoon was of the warm, sunny August
kind that we all associate with opening days of
the season. It had begun with my dad, brothers,
and me taking the same stroll to the same bus
stop where we and many of the same faces
waited for the same old bus (which was late, as
always) to take us to the stadium. I slalomed
through the crowded concourse, trying to ignore
the smells of those familiar hot dogs and that
one particular brand of cigarettes that smelled
nice—there was only one, I never identified it.
They only served as a distraction for the scent I
was waiting for—the grass on that freshly cut,
freshly laid pitch. That physical reminder that
this was meant to be the start of something new.
We sat in the same seats to watch what was
largely the same team that had fallen short a
matter of weeks before. They fell short again.
Reading 1–2 Plymouth Argyle.
 
On the bus home, I asked: what was actually
different about this season? What a fool I was
for thinking it could be any different, as I let out
my frustration for anyone to hear, though the
loud clacking of the engine probably meant
nobody could.
The previous season had seen us finish seventh
in the Championship, missing out on a playoff
spot by losing on the final day. However,
conceding late to lose 2–1 to Wolves in the final
home game a week earlier, plus a 1–0 defeat to
bottom-of-the-ta
ble Rotherham United earlier in
the run-in courtesy of a 90th-minute winner, was
where the damage was done.
The Plymouth defeat hurt more than those, and
not because it was so raw. It hurt more because
this season was supposed to be different. It was
Steve Coppell’s second full campaign in charge:
a lot of the old guard of the Alan Pardew era
had been cleared out over the summer, and
new arrivals had given the squad a fresh look
and the fans a fresh wave of optimism. We had
even broken our transfer record to sign Leroy
Lita—an actual exciting, up-and-coming striker
who we had heard of—for one whole million
pounds! This was Coppell’s team now, and we
had real hope.
I say hope rather than expectation because
expectations in Berkshire were almost taboo.
Reading FC have historically been a pessimist’s
dream. Formed in 1871, the oldest professional
club south of the Trent had never reached the
top flight, seldom spent time in the second tier
and only reached one major semifinal. Financial
ruin and a merger with Oxford United were
narrowly avoided in the 1980s.
Decades of nothingness ended in 1990 when
John Madejski bought the club. From then on,
there would be some joy in Berkshire, but
always at a cost.
Promotion from Division Two in 1994 was
followed by finishing second in Division One in
1995, the one year finishing as runners-up
consigned you to the playoffs as the top flight
was cut from 22 to 20 teams. Reading lost that
playoff final 4–3 to Bolton Wanderers, having
been 2–0 up.
 
The Madejski Stadium opened its doors in 1998,
but only after Reading were relegated to
Division Two in Elm Park’s final season.
Promotion back to the second tier came in
2002, but only after another agonising playoff
final defeat a year earlier. 2003 saw more
playoff heartache; 2004 and 2005 saw us miss
out on the top six on the last day.
From then on, there would
be some joy in Berkshire,
but always at a cost
This long-standing tussle between rough and
smooth had created one of the most glass-half-
full/glass-half-empty fanbases in the country.
But hey, at least we had some smooth. That
attitude, coupled with youth, was probably what
had always put me in the glass-half-full camp,
yet the Plymouth defeat alone severely tested
that allegiance.
Perhaps I should have jumped ship long ago?
My first trip to Elm Park was as a six-year-old,
thus I now had enough seasons under my belt
to know not to aim too high. And anyway, I
repeat, what was actually different about this
season?
 
However, almost a decade to the day after the
infamous “you can’t win anything with kids” line,
my “it’s exactly the same as last season”
transpired to be my very own Alan Hansen-ism.
 
"We've got three games in the first week, and
we have to put this right," said Coppell after the
Plymouth defeat. Games two and three, though,
were trips to Brighton and Preston, places we
had come unstuck before. Confidence was
draining.
 
So, imagine my pleasant surprise to see a 2–0
win at the Withdean, followed by a 3–0 victory at
Deepdale, reversing the scoreline from the
previous Christmas that had begun an 11-match
winless run which cost our automatic promotion
hopes in the first place. As the gaffer
demanded, the first week had been put right.
The next match, though, was a return to the
Madejski for the visit of Millwall, and that oh-so-
familiar cycle began again: another
uncomfortably warm afternoon, another day
where just as your hopes had been raised, they
were ready to be deflated once more.
But no one had given the script to Bobby
Convey, who sprinted the length of the pitch to
score the opener, and no one had given the
script to visiting goalkeeper Andy Marshall, who
then got sent off. Millwall had no ‘keeper on the
bench, and Reading added four more past two
different makeshift shot-stoppers in a 5–0 rout.
 
We went top of the Championship! Not that that
means anything in August, the pessimists
reminded me. We were knocked back down to
earth and down one place to second following a
goalless draw with Watford; they actually had a
recognised goalkeeper between the posts for 90
minutes, you see.
By the end of September, we were clinging onto
second place thanks to a series of wins by the
odd goal, including a 3–2 thriller against Crystal
Palace, and then, our unsuspecting eyes could
not believe we might actually be in an automatic
promotion race when we beat early leaders
Sheffield United 2–1 in early October.
 
That was the turning point; from then on,
everything was different. I was making the same
trip to the same ground to sit in the same seat to
watch the same team, yet now only positive
outcomes existed; Sheffield Wednesday, Hull
City, Luton Town, Leicester City, all brushed
aside. The days got colder and the nights got
longer, but that sunny summer tinge never
seemed to completely dissipate. It never
seemed to rain on a Saturday in late 2005; even
the bus turned up on time once. We won ten in
a row in November and December, unbeaten
since the opening day. Sometimes, it took time
to break the opponents down, but you always
knew the goals would come. Creeping pre-
match doubts had been replaced by an
incredibly rare feeling in sport—the joy of
knowing that you will see a win that given
afternoon, and my heroes in blue and white
always obliged.
I suppose it’s about time I introduced you to this
story’s heroes in blue and white. I can reel off
the starting XI quicker than I can tell you my
date of birth, but let’s add a little bit of colour to
those names.
In goal, Marcus Hahnemann, an American
skinhead who loved heavy metal and ice cream.
At right back, Graeme Murty, our captain, ever-
present and ever-dependable, arrived for
pennies from York City and left a legend a
decade later. Centre-backs, Ibrahima Sonko—
Senegalese man mountain, nicknamed
Superman with his own Superman T-shirts in
the club shop to prove it—and Ívar Ingimarsson.
Great name, even better defender. He was
Steve Coppell’s first signing at the club, and we
understood why. Left back: Nicky Shorey, who
cost £25k in 2001 and six years later became
the first Reading player in a century to play for
England. Wand of a left foot.
On the right wing, Glen Little, AKA “Blakey”, as
he looked like the bloke from On the Buses
. His pace wasn’t dissimilar to his namesake, but that
didn’t stop him turning any defender inside-out.
In the centre, James Harper and Steve Sidwell,
the engines. Harper’s job was to spread the ball
wide, Sidwell’s was to take the more direct
approach. Both did their duties to absolute
perfection; both knew where the goal was. On
the left, American Bobby Convey, all-round
good guy who became the first Reading player
to play at the World Cup. Up front, Dave Kitson,
poacher and “secret footballer” turned Nauru
national team manager, and Kevin Doyle, Irish
breakout star and one of the best finishers I’ve
ever seen.
Leroy Lita scored a goal every other game in a
season cut short by a broken ankle, while
regular subs Stephen Hunt, John Oster and
Brynjar Gunnarsson all made valuable
contributions, none more so than Gunnarsson
scoring both in that 2–1 win over Sheffield
United.
This eclectic band fell under the stewardship of
the quiet, studious Steve Coppell, the greatest
football manager of all time. Rarely cracking a
smile but still coming across as loveable, there
was no one better to keep the players and us
fans grounded.
Grounded we might have been, but by
Christmas, we had begun to be noticed. The
Sky cameras saw us end that 10-match winning
run on New Year’s Eve with a 2–2 draw at
Derby. They were at Selhurst Park, too, in
January, and again, we only managed a point.
The home matches following those two draws
were won 5–1 and 4–0. It was as if this season
was only for us to enjoy: our little secret. The
Madejski was an exclusive members club
serving up champagne football that was not
available on the mass market.
Finally, in February, Reading lost a
Championship match. Luton Town won
3–2 at Kenilworth Road and the record-breaking
longest unbeaten run in the division ended at 33
games. And yes, Sky was there to see it.
Reading played 11 more games that season,
and not one was televised. What those Sky
viewers missed in those final games was a
resolute Reading going unbeaten again.
On March 25th a Doyle header at Leicester sealed
the earliest-ever promotion to the top flight; a
week later, second-half goals from Harper,
Doyle, Oster and two from a teenager by the
name of Shane Long wrapped up the
Championship title against Derby in a
performance so mesmerising that it produced
the rare sighting of a Steve Coppell smile.
 
Trophy secured, there was only one box left to
be ticked—a goal for Graeme Murty, the only
regular outfielder not to score, whose every
touch of the ball had been met with cries of
“SHOOOOT” for about three months. His only
goal for the club prior came back in 2001, so
surely he wasn’t going to get one now?
Well, with six minutes of the whole campaign to
go and Reading drawing 1–1 at home to QPR,
we won a penalty. Up stepped the captain, who
blasted the ball straight down the middle as if
he’d done it 1000 times before and sprinted
away to rugby tackle the mascot in celebration
like a prime Jonah Lomu.
In true Reading 05/06 style, that goal wasn’t
simply a cherry on a lavishly iced cake; it
secured a win which took our points tally to 106,
the record in the second tier that still stands
today. The greatest season had been realised,
and it belonged to us, little tin-pot Reading.
I can reel off the starting XI quicker than I can tell you
my date of birth
With minimal additions, Reading finished eighth
in the club’s first top-flight season, taking points
off Manchester United and Chelsea and
narrowly missing out on European football
before second-season syndrome kicked in a
year later, and we were back down to the
Championship.
Coppell would resign a year later, but The
Reading Way—keeping the purse strings tight
but relying on a well-run academy and good
recruitment to bring in the right kind of players to
build a team that exceeded expectations—end
ured. Brian McDermott, Coppell’s chief scout,
would later become the second manager to win
the Championship title with Reading in 2012.
 
But after Madejski sold the club in 2012 to the
son of an oligarch with no money of his own,
things began to unravel. Next, a Thai
consortium took control of the club, but one by
one, each investor lost interest. Then, in 2017,
Chinese businessman Dai Yongge arrived, and
the real nightmare began.
Absentee ownership, agents lining their pockets
after being given control of transfer budgets,
points deductions, transfer embargoes, fines,
debts, failure to pay players and staff on time,
relegation to the third tier for the first time in 20
years, fan protests, no heating and meals at the
training ground. The endless list of misery at
Reading Football Club has gone on and on. In
October, we reached the first anniversary of Dai
agreeing to sell the club, but he still hasn’t left
town despite all the tennis ball protests, fan
activism and utter misery he’s unleashed on the
town.
 
Is it any wonder, then, that we want to sing
about those halcyon days of Sonko, Sidwell and
Shorey, reminiscing about the times when we
would arrive asking how many we would win by
that day? When you come as close to losing
your entire football club as we have, the
nostalgia trips become your only positive outlet.
Is it any wonder that even when sitting in the
depths of League One, we still cheer when the
Championship leaders drop points and have a
small celebration around April each season
when “the 106” is safe for another year? One
year, a team will break it with a squad featuring
individuals who cost more than our whole squad
combined several times over.
Talking of shoestring budgets, that is what
Reading have been forced to assemble under
Rubén Sellés this season. Yet, remarkably, in
true “nature is healing” style, a team of academy
graduates, free signings, loanees and former
free agents have rallied together against the off-
field adversity to form a united, winning team
that’s currently hovering around the playoff
places.
I did have a sneaking feeling we might do alright
after we drew with hot title favourites
Birmingham City back in August, but I kept it to
myself. After all, if Reading’s greatest team ever
has taught me anything, it’s that you shouldn’t
make rash judgements after the opening day of
the season.

[Crusader Royal]

That’s a very common chant. Variation on the Man Utd original and missing a couple of lines but bizarre for anyone who has attended games over the last 20 years to not have heard it….

[jd82]

That’s a very common chant. Variation on the Man Utd original and missing a couple of lines but bizarre for anyone who has attended games over the last 20 years to not have heard it….

What tune is it to?

I literally cannot work out how it's supposed to sound

[Crusader Royal]

That’s a very common chant. Variation on the Man Utd original and missing a couple of lines but bizarre for anyone who has attended games over the last 20 years to not have heard it….

What tune is it to?

I literally cannot work out how it's supposed to sound

Sing Hosanna

106 106 Reading fc
106 106 I say
106 106 Reading fc
Playing football in the Coppell way

[stealthpapes]

if its united, some 1920s music hall number that's just so obscure.

ahem

yeah, what crusader royal said, reckon it gets sung at least once every away game.

[South Coast Royal]

A very uplifting read for these dire and uncertain times.
One very small criticism-Murty hardly cost "pennies" but was nearer £750,000.

Not sure about the correct wording of the chant but 106 is sung about at every game.

[stealthpapes]

That’s a very common chant. Variation on the Man Utd original and missing a couple of lines but bizarre for anyone who has attended games over the last 20 years to not have heard it….

What tune is it to?

I literally cannot work out how it's supposed to sound

Sing Hosanna

106 106 Reading fc
106 106 I say
106 106 Reading fc
Playing football in the Coppell way

cheers, learnt something today

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oil_in_My_Lamp

[jd82]

What tune is it to?

I literally cannot work out how it's supposed to sound

Sing Hosanna

106 106 Reading fc
106 106 I say
106 106 Reading fc
Playing football in the Coppell way

cheers, learnt something today

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oil_in_My_Lamp

lol - yeah, i have heard it in that case, couldn't for the life of me work out what the tune was though. Not as ubiquitous as "we've got the record" though, is it?

Apologies to the article writer in that case I guess.

[stealthpapes]

The Sky cameras saw us end that 10-match winning run on New Year’s Eve with a 2–2 draw at Derby.

I always remember this one from a different angle - Derby more or less battered us for long spells. It just wasn't working. Throw on Shane Long (may even have been his debut? his first start wasn't until the new year), Derby defenders absolutely cannot deal with him. Snatch a well-earned, hard-earned draw.

Really showed our grit and determination that day, plus reassured me that even the bit part players could step up and do a job.

Also, good article. Cheers.

[East Grinstead Royal]

Nice article, although my personal feeling after the opening day defeat was that I had seen enough to be confident we would do well. Oh, and I think we were 1-0 down to QPR when Murty scored, making it 1-1.

[Green]

Is it a poem? Why is formatted like that?

[Sutekh]

So, when did Reading become immoral?

[stealthpapes]

Is it a poem? Why is formatted like that?

Hark at John Masefield over here

[morganb]

That’s a very common chant. Variation on the Man Utd original and missing a couple of lines but bizarre for anyone who has attended games over the last 20 years to not have heard it….

What tune is it to?

I literally cannot work out how it's supposed to sound

Sing Hosanna

106 106 Reading fc
106 106 I say
106 106 Reading fc
Playing football in the Coppell way

A less-heard variation was:

Pass it back, pass it back, Reading fc
Pass it back, pass it back, I say
Pass it back, pass it back, Reading fc
Playing football the Jaap Stam way

[Snowflake Royal]

Nice article, although my personal feeling after the opening day defeat was that I had seen enough to be confident we would do well. Oh, and I think we were 1-0 down to QPR when Murty scored, making it 1-1.

Yeah.

That article doesn't seem to represent my view of that season at all.

I thought we played well and were mugged by Plymouth, with Harper really effective in midfield. I remember joking that we were due a good season despite the result as Harps had even managed a tackle.

That whole era for me was one of confidence in what Madejski was building, the way we were run and the trajectory we were on. I went to Uni in 99, and I was firmly of the view we were building something and heading towards the PL, I think I said within about 5 years. I believe 4-4-2 had us about 20 to 1 for the title pre-season and I had us as one of the favourites.

Dismantling Millwall and establishing our credentials against Sheff Utd in league and cup had me confident. Our summer business had been very high quality.

[Sutekh]

Nice article, although my personal feeling after the opening day defeat was that I had seen enough to be confident we would do well. Oh, and I think we were 1-0 down to QPR when Murty scored, making it 1-1.

No we were never losing to QPR, Kitson put us ahead, they equalised and then Murts hit that late penalty.

[Sutekh]

 …….

I suppose it’s about time I introduced you to this
story’s heroes in blue and white. I can reel off
the starting XI quicker than I can tell you my
date of birth, but let’s add a little bit of colour to
those names.
In goal, Marcus Hahnemann, an American
skinhead who loved heavy metal and ice cream.
At right back, Graeme Murty, our captain, ever-
present and ever-dependable, arrived for
pennies from York City and left a legend a
decade later. Centre-backs, Ibrahima Sonko—
Senegalese man mountain, nicknamed
Superman with his own Superman T-shirts in
the club shop to prove it—and Ívar Ingimarsson.
Great name, even better defender. He was
Steve Coppell’s first signing at the club, and we
understood why. Left back: Nicky Shorey, who
cost £25k in 2001 and six years later became
the first Reading player in a century to play for
England. Wand of a left foot.
On the right wing, Glen Little, AKA “Blakey”, as
he looked like the bloke from On the Buses
. His pace wasn’t dissimilar to his namesake, but that
didn’t stop him turning any defender inside-out.
In the centre, James Harper and Steve Sidwell,
the engines. Harper’s job was to spread the ball
wide, Sidwell’s was to take the more direct
approach. Both did their duties to absolute
perfection; both knew where the goal was. On
the left, American Bobby Convey, all-round
good guy who became the first Reading player
to play at the World Cup. Up front, Dave Kitson,
poacher and “secret footballer” turned Nauru
national team manager, and Kevin Doyle, Irish
breakout star and one of the best finishers I’ve
ever seen.
Leroy Lita scored a goal every other game in a
season cut short by a broken ankle, while
regular subs Stephen Hunt, John Oster and
Brynjar Gunnarsson all made valuable
contributions, none more so than Gunnarsson
scoring both in that 2–1 win over Sheffield
United.
……

An, at the time, record equalling £750k = pennies

[East Grinstead Royal]

Nice article, although my personal feeling after the opening day defeat was that I had seen enough to be confident we would do well. Oh, and I think we were 1-0 down to QPR when Murty scored, making it 1-1.

No we were never losing to QPR, Kitson put us ahead, they equalised and then Murts hit that late penalty.

Thanks for clarifying - I think I was confusing the result with my mild disappointment at the time that we didn’t each 100 league goals!