I was 12 in 1966. Was in the car driving to Devon on holiday, trying to listen to the final on a crappy car radio until my dad switched it off. Never did see the game properly until the Goal film came out later in the year. Dad took me because he was feeling guilty about not letting me listen.
Remember vividly when we lost the WC in 1970 though. Such a turning point that moment when Alf took Bobby Charlton and Martin Peters off...My dad and uncles shouting no at the tv... the rest is history.