“Roasted peanuts – tanner a bag” – the first words I ever heard at Upton Park, on the old North Bank. November 1966. I was eight years old. We beat Newcastle 3-0. Budgie Byrne and Geoff Hurst were among the scorers. Hurst was my hero and I remember his thundering presence on the pitch.  With the terraces pressed up so close to the pitch, I felt so near to the players. All around me, a sea of West Ham scarves, bobble hats, rosettes and the occasional rattle. I bought a rosette and joined the tribe. Two bob to get in. You bought your programme from old guys wearing flat caps. One of them often had a threatening trail of snot about to drip on the programme (same price as the peanuts) but he would sniff it up just in time. First Upton Park memories. February ’69. West Ham v Liverpool. Hurst chases a no-hope ball heading out to touch in the opposing half. He catches it, runs down the wing, Brooking running down the middle.  Hurst crosses low. A psycho, Tommy Smith, charges in to challenge Brooking as the ball approaches but Brooking deftly steps over it. It runs straight to Johnny Sissons. He steadies himself, then bang – it crashes past Tommy Lawrence, top corner, from 25 yards. Cue the Upton Park roar, which will never be the same when we rattle around the new stadium. The roar was at its loudest just a few weeks ago, when we helped ruin Tottenham’s title dreams, 1-0.
It’s an emotional occasion at Upton Park as West Ham bid farewell to the Boleyn, as both they and Manchester United scramble for European places