Jef, do something. Jef!

In a sense it’s a shock ever time Real Madrid are eliminated from the European Cup, such is their indelible association with the tournament. But they have suffered many surprises in the conventional sense. In the European Cup alone they have been knocked out by Rapid Vienna, Standard Liège, Brugge, Grasshoppers, Spartak Moscow, Monaco, Lyon - and, most stunningly of all, Anderlecht in 1962. 

Nearly 50 years on, the result still makes no sense. Madrid had won the first five European Cups from 1956 to 1960. In the two seasons before this match, they had lost close contests to two excellent sides, Barcelona and Benfica. They might have been a touch past their best - Ferenc Puskás and Alfredo Di Stéfano had a combined age of 71 - but they would still be good enough to come again and reach the final the following season. For a team as good as Madrid’s, losing to anything less than the best was a felony. 

Anderlecht were significantly less than the best. They had never won a European Cup game. They had a record so dismal that even a mother might ostracise it: played six, lost six, conceded 29. They would eventually lose 6-2 on aggregate to Dundee in the quarter-finals. On the face of it they had two chances as they went to Madrid, and slim had forgotten to pack his passport. 

Yet Anderlecht somehow managed to draw the first leg in the Bernabéu 3-3, after trailing 2-0 and then 3-2, setting up a compelling second leg three weeks later. There was no away-goals rule in those days, so the match would have to be won. The consequence was a cautious, tactical contest that was not decided until the 85th minute when Jef Jurion, sporting his trademark rubber-strapped glasses, lashed the loose ball into the bottom corner from 20 yards after his first shot had been blocked. “It was the first time in my life,” he later said, “that I put the ball exactly where I wanted.” 

The most famous words on the subject came from Rik De Saedeleer, whose commentary has been immortalised. As the ball came to Jurion, he said simply: “Jef, do something. Jef! Goal! Goal!” Not, then, the catchiest title for a comedy show, as England’s most famous commentary proved, but still a decent reflection of just how much this goal meant.