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Beyond the 92.
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sharrowblade
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PostPosted: Wed Aug 23, 2017 1:24 pm 
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Scarborough Athletic, Flamingo Land Stadium

It began badly…no man should have to go through the the senseless pain, the twisted agony and ceaseless torture, of the sat nav woman demanding you make a u Turn. For the welfare of my children I just took a deep breath and cried……’but there’s no where to turn around’…… whilst repeatedly smashing my forehead against the dashboard, after a few seconds I regained consciousness. After all who goes to Scarborough via York when its race day,.... well apparently 20,000 race goers and yes sadly me.

Its tight, but we arrive at the Flamingo Land Stadium with 20 minutes to kick off. It had taken 3 hours to get here. There’s a large car park next to the ground and it’s free. There’s a couple of bible bashers on the corner handing out bibles, with messages of good cheer and around the next corner there’s hundred of discarded bibles on the floor. Christ….these football types eh. I recall the local Methodist Church back in the early 70s having the large sign ‘Jesus Saves’….and then some scallywag would dawb in white paint ‘but Best scores with the rebound’.



This was Scarborough’s homecoming the first game at their new stadium. Programmes had already sold out, but Blademan had got me a couple (good lad), and team-sheets were 20p. The home contingent were in good voice, the toilet enders were rocking (I say toilet enders, because the only toilets were at the back of the Kop). There’s a main stand down one side and the other half of the ground a wooden fence has been constructed. Some supporters without a ticket chose to watch it from the nearby hill. Its an artificial pitch and the United team made up of U23s & U18s start well and lead early.

The boro equalise shortly before half time.
I take the lads to the burger van where there’s a cracking view of the people on the hill relieving themselves in the bushes. ‘I love the smell of hamburgers and urine in the afternoon’.

The club are handing out free t-shirts to all supporters, unfortunately they are all the same size, too big for the boys, too small for me. One day they will fit theirs, I doubt if I will. Still it was a nice gesture.

The rain held off and United run away with it late on to win 4-1.



I’d always had a soft spot for the town, ever since a school trip in the summer of 79, when for a fleeting moment I was one of the ‘cool kids’, I’d organized the ‘strip poker’ game on the back row of the coach, I had a plate of tuna sandwiches pushed in my face by one of the girls, ….it was love at first sight, ….even today if I think about her I can smell fish, but eventually we were rumbled by our German Teacher and she confiscated my pack of risqué cards purchased from one of Scarborough’s many joke shops. To be fair it was a blessing, I was down to my Y-fronts and we were only just going past Tadcaster. Oh to be 13 again.

So afterwards, I decide to take the boys to the beach, we’ve got the cricket stuff with us and pitch up on the sands, we’ve not been there long when an Indian gentleman approaches and asks if his lads can join in for a game. Macca and Danny agree, and suddenly its 14 Indian lads against the three of us. We put up a good fight but with just two runs needed to win, I’m given out LBW, to a ball going down leg-side via Norway, still we wished them the best as they headed back off to their Nissan Micra.

Therefore, As an apology for letting England down in the test match, and the sun breaking out, I take the boys to ‘the best chip Shop in Scarborough’ I know cause it said so ‘over the door’ so it must have been true and order a ‘Chip Butty’. I’ve never had one like it, A dozen chips and a bread-cake shrink wrapped in polythene, Dan says they’re nice chips, I wouldn't know, I'm left with just the bread-cake, and Macca's playing with the polythene. we take a pew outside the ‘Newcastle Packet’ pub on the waterfront, where inside Mandy from Doncaster is getting jiggy on her hen night. The boys are shocked, so am I, I didn’t realize you could do the splits whilst holding Two pints of lager and not spill a drop. Back to The Robin Reliant and off home. All in all, a great day out

Tickets £20 (1 x £10, 2 x £5)
Programmes: £3
Chips and a shrink wrapped bread-cake: £3.20
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Five and In



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PostPosted: Wed Aug 23, 2017 2:18 pm 
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I've missed these throughout the Summer.....well, the slightly less wet time than the rest of the year as we call it.

Brilliant Sharrow Clap

Have you thought about putting them altogether and getting them published as a book?
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sharrowblade
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PostPosted: Wed Aug 23, 2017 3:01 pm 
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Five and In wrote:
I've missed these throughout the Summer.....well, the slightly less wet time than the rest of the year as we call it.

Brilliant Sharrow Clap

Have you thought about putting them altogether and getting them published as a book?


Many thanks, yes I've begun to compile them, maybe in a few years time I'll do one.

I've got a to write up a couple more for on the 'Beyond' thread and a couple on the 'Quest for the 92'. Hope to do those in the next week or so.
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littlewiggy



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PostPosted: Wed Aug 23, 2017 3:33 pm 
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I always enjoy them too.

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Pete’s Picture Palace
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PostPosted: Wed Aug 23, 2017 3:36 pm 
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Couldn't agree more. Sharrow has a gift that some of us plebs can only dream of. The best read on here probably since his last one!

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Five and In



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PostPosted: Wed Aug 23, 2017 3:40 pm 
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sharrowblade wrote:
Five and In wrote:
I've missed these throughout the Summer.....well, the slightly less wet time than the rest of the year as we call it.

Brilliant Sharrow Clap

Have you thought about putting them altogether and getting them published as a book?


Many thanks, yes I've begun to compile them, maybe in a few years time I'll do one.

I've got a to write up a couple more for on the 'Beyond' thread and a couple on the 'Quest for the 92'. Hope to do those in the next week or so.



If you do decide to go for it Sharrow, I'm sure the publishers that published my book would be interested. I'd be happy to put you in touch.
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Southend_Loyal



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PostPosted: Tue Aug 29, 2017 4:27 pm 
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sharrowblade wrote:
Dronfield Town, Stonelow Road

Dronfield, once a haven for council rate dodging Sheffielder's now a booming new town with an Aldi supermarket. Rossington Main provided the opposition for this North East Counties game and I took the tribe to the quaint setting of Stonelow Road.

There's a big crowd, (45) and there's four of us. Programme purchased and teamsheet complimentary I take my place in the Subbuteo stand whilst the lads run riot behind the goal during the warm up. I sit back and read the programme, 45 seconds later I've finished the programme and go and have a kick about by the side of the pitch where there's an open grass area.

News soon filter's through that United trail at Oldham, and I enter into a discussion with the Rossington keeper about where its all going wrong at the lane. Two minutes later he comes for a cross and misses it and the home team equalize, I think it wise not to discuss where it all went wrong there. At half time, we wander up to seek out refreshment. They're located in the changing rooms where the smell of Chilli blends with that of linament. 106 year old Doris apologizes for the lack of burgers as she can't find them, possibly couldn't see them.

Back at pitch-side,and we retake our position in front of the wall of Stonelow, its an impressive wooden fence about 30 ft tall, the theory being that it defends the local residents at one end from wayward rockets although one of the Rossington substitutes proved it wasn't quite high enough.

Its a good end to end game and with 13 minutes left the ref awards a penalty. It was a dubious call as from 100 yards away me, the lads, the Dronfield keeper and even Doris could see it clearly wasn't. The Rossington contingent felt aggrieved and the common feeling was that the ref was a 'cheating bastard'.

As the fall out continued the Dronfield keeper strode up-field to take the honours, the manager concerned at this shouted 'Is there anyone else who wants to take it'. The right back, seized the opportunity, 'I'll have it'. Expectations of glory etched upon his face, he hadn't scored since the U11s and that was twenty years ago. this was his moment, or it would have been until the bench shouted 'No, anyone but you' Laughing

As keepers do there was no finesse, as the net was nearly taken into orbit with a pile-driver straight down the middle. Then came the fateful words, 'Keep it tight lads, keep focused.

90 seconds later, the home side didn't keep it tight, and didn't focus. Protests of offside, handball, and for the winger being ugly fell on deaf ears as Rossington, levelled.

stereo-typical criticism of referee's being in-consistent were refreshingly absent, as everyone associated with Dronfield also labelled him a 'cheating bastard'. Doris had seen the red mist and was waving a sharp pointed umbrella in the direction of the man in black, although someone had to point out to her that she was actually threatening the groundsman.

All in all a good afternoon.



Price: £14 (1 x £5, 3 x £3)
Programme: £1
Tea/coffee £0.70
Burger: £1


My brother used to run The Horn Inn nearby
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sharrowblade
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PostPosted: Wed Aug 30, 2017 3:56 pm 
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Mangotsfield United, Cossham Street

We’d come down to watch Dan play Bristol City on the Saturday, and after a swim in the Hotel pool and breakfast we headed a mile down the road to Bristol University playing fields, and after watching Dan mince around the pitch for an hour, he went off to Ashton Gate with the Academy lads so Macca and I headed off to nearby Mangotsfield.

We arrived way too early, the players hadn’t even arrived and we parked next to the entrance for a quick getaway after the game. That was the plan until the players and old Mrs Jones and her dog Scamp arrived, who all clearly had the same idea. I’m resigned to being blocked in. The sun had come out and so I took the opportunity to display the Blades Polo shirt and with Scout folder in hand headed for the bar, to watch the Saturday early kick off, Even in the toilet all the talk is about the big game, Mangotsfield v local rivals Shortswood. There’s a couple of locals loitering near the urinals and clocking the United badge asked why I’d come, the answer was non-committal if I’m honest, the two pints of Stella in the Holiday Inn the night before and the cold morning air had taken effect, so concentration levels on accuracy were of paramount importance.



On my return to the spacious bar area, I mug the Club Secretary for a couple of team-sheets, and I overhear a nearby group of locals say ‘I wonder why he’s here’. Macca informed me that the ‘he’ in question is myself, I re-assured him that it wasn’t every-day that a male model shows up at the home of the ‘mango’s’. He look bemused. ‘They all think you’re a Scout’. ‘Dyb Dyb Dyb, dob, Dob, Dob’ I reply, he looks even more bemused and hides his face in shame. Children eh!

As kick off approaches we head outside to be met with a somewhat exotic colour scheme, relating to the Perimeter fence and the home team's kit.

‘Oh lordy, it’s a bit West Ham’, I exclaim whereas Macca claims its more Scunthorpe’. There’s no point in arguing. Despite the colour scheme, It’s a picturesque ground, and complimented by the late October sunshine, throw in a pint for myself and a chip butty for laddo and everything is ‘gucci’. I’m not sure what that means but I’m informed it means good. Yes!!! I’m with down with the kids. Match day Programme purchased plus a few others from the programme shop, and we’re all set for a really tight encounter.

It’s a blood and guts affair and after half an hour, civil war has broken out in the home defence as its 3-0 to the visitors. There’s a lot of pointing and shouting but not a great deal of organizing. The only danger being posed by the home side is damage from balls being fired over the stands by half time 11 had disappeared over the walls, stands and car park, the nearby church was ringing its bells, clearly this was some kind of early warning system. We spend the second half sun bathing and counting more balls disappearing from view as Shortwood continued to dominate finishing the game 5-1 victors.



At the game’s conclusion, an unruly mob had gathered and there’s excitement in the car park, There were gasps of “Ooh” and “Aah” as people watched on in amazement. Near miss after near miss had some people covering their eyes and shaking their heads in disbelief.
I confess it was a good half hour’s worth of entertainment, but in the end, old Mrs Jones and Scamp completed their 47 point turn and made it out of the car park.

Price: £8 (£5 x 1, 1 x £3)
Programme: £2.00
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sharrowblade
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PostPosted: Sun Sep 03, 2017 11:51 pm 
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La Rosaleda, Malaga FC

Its mild……about 39C, Its 17Euro return for the three of us to Malaga. I sit back and relax as we pass Torremilinos and Malaga Airport, the lads entertain themselves by playing dot to dot with the mosquito bites on my legs. Macca is wittering on about the Battle of the Somme whilst Danny flits between a delicate conversation of the beauty of Spanish girls and which was the better, San Miguel or Cruzcampo. After half an hour we arrive at Malaga its 3:30 in the afternoon, that’s 5 hours before kick-off.

Suddenly, I’ve gone all cold and clammy, I recall my last visit, I feel feverish, the pulse is racing and my palms have become sweaty. heart pounding, the forehead tort with strain, a feeling of dread cascading through the veins. I closed my eyes, and murmured ‘be strong, be strong’. And then we were there. Dan knew what he wanted, he knew the cost, but not the sacrifice, that was to be mine. With tears in my eyes, I said a sad farewell to the money in my wallet as we had arrived at the………… Malaga Club Shop, (to be fair it’s the first thing you see when you exit the station.)

A hour later, we re-enter civilisation and the searing heat of the outside world. The boys are in buoyant mood they had floated out of the club shop, I had to be carried out by the shop assistants in a delirious state. It’s a 45 minute walk to the stadium or three hours attempting to find the correct bus stop. We decide on the former, and to take in some of Malaga’s side streets and the odd bar on the way. We stumble across a little book store, I peer into the darkness of the store and I can see an old La Liga Panini Sticker book from the 1983-4 season, Macca and me disappear inside whilst Dan sits on the wall outside. I would have happily spent all afternoon in there, but we head back out to where Dan is frantically waving his arms about and is intrigued in activity over the other side of the wall. Some people revel in sightings of Big Foot, UFO’s, and the Loch Ness Monster’, but Dan has discovered a man wearing just fig leaves leaping about amongst the undergrowth. But time waits for no man, and so we leave ‘Peado Pedro’ and head up to the stadium.

Souvenir Stalls and the pick and Mix outlets are setting up outside the ground, tickets purchased. We retreat to the nearby bar for an hour, to watch the world go by. With a hour and a half to kick off we wander over to the club shop on the corner of the stadium, its bedlam and full of dodgy looking characters, so we make a quick exit and the alarm goes off, I’m not surprised Security has stopped Macca.



We’re in the middle tier, the culture here is different, it’s a no smoking stadium but nobody takes any notice, the Spanish bring their own food and then some,.... it was like sitting in a pop corn factory, there were crisps, nuts, fruit, and anything else edible. There’s little space between the seats, and even less foot room, I’m getting buffeted by ‘Little Maria’ next to me. She was about 10, with a long knotted ponytail. In between moutfuls of popcorn she’d greet every decision with a compulsory throwing of the arms into the air and a Spanish dialogue of disdain, and whenever she turned her ponytail would give me a whack on the side of my face. I tell the boys ‘Im off over the other side of the stadium to where 100 riot police were guarding the 50 Lazio fans, as it was safer’.

Down below, the obligatory Crowd organizer, is orchestrating the 'Ultras', he’s stood on the fence with microphone in hand, he’s a Andrew Ridgeley from Wham lookalike.

He’s flogging a dead horse, the hard core faithful behind the net are more like 'hi-de-hi campers' than F-Troop.
His ‘we’ve got the best team in the world’ rendition is sounding a little hollow as Malaga are awful He can’t hold a tune so in fairness it could have been Andrew Ridgeley.



Its scoreless at half time. and we head up into the stratosphere to Row ZZZ.
Its steep, very steep…I pass two old boys on the way up, Sherpa Tensing and Hilary had done well to get up there. I desperately need Oxygen. Macca is bat watching, there’s loads of them flying about.
Out on the pitch, Malaga concede, and Lazio go on to win 1-0 and Capture the Tropheao Costa del Sol Cup. It’s not the smallest trophy, it takes four of them to lift it up.



Back into the night, it’s a brisk march back to the station, I’ve gone all Captain Mannering ‘this way men’ before having to confess I was totally lost. Come on.... it was dark. Don't panic Don't panic, Dan comes to the rescue with google maps. Good lad. Last train to Fuengirola caught with minutes to spare and back in Arroyo at Midnight. Burger King for something to eat (Might as well spend everything), and back to the Villa for 1am. No programmes issued or team-sheets, but nevertheless a great day out.

£17 Tickets (1 x £9, 2 x £4)
£15 Train
£170 Club Shop
£50 Refreshments and Food
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sharrowblade
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PostPosted: Thu Nov 02, 2017 12:38 am 
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East Yorkshire Carnegie, Dunswell Park

There's now't finer than a crisp Autumn afternoon with a 60mph wind blowing across your face, but not when you're crossing the Humber Bridge. Good job there was a spare pair of underpants in the back.
Wife and daughter dropped off at St Phillips shopping complex and a trip to the northern outskirts of Hull, stopped off at Asda on Beverley Road, where 28 year old Wayne, and his posse of 13 year olds are sat outside on their mountain bikes, as I approached I here the immortal words, 'Penny for Guy, Mister'. I can only assume that Guy was their local drug dealer.

A hasty retreat up to Dunswell village we find the home of East Yorkshire Carnegie, a fledgling club formed in 2016 but now in the Northern Counties East League. I confess I’d never heard of them.



The visitors are Shirebrook Town, which experience has proven over the years have a number of supporters with somewhat forthcoming views on life.

I head for the bar, and survey the playing surface. It was clear that the grounds man had taken a permanent holiday and there should have been cattle grazing on it. It’s difficult to concentrate on the game for any great length of time as our Dan insists on updating me about how Scottish League 1 sides are going on. Don’t ask. The lads are intrigued by a wooden shed in the corner of the ground that houses the PA System and are amused that its called…. ‘The Shed’. Macca says people go in…but they never come out’. He’s right the gateman went in, and he never came out, it was sheltered from the wind. Dan breaks out laughing as Albion Rovers go 1-0 behind. Again, don’t ask.

Carnegie are sporting a ‘do not adjust your eyesight kit’.



It doesn’t take long the baying crowd are seeking blood, pitchforks and rope were being readied for the referee, Its quite expectant when Shirebrook are playing
The referee should be in the circus, he’s that and he’s this, and then a promising Shirebrook break is thwarted by a challenge in Midfield, the referee has the audacity to wave play on. ‘Referee, what about the free kick, Referee you’re a joke’. It was five seconds later that the ball hit the back of the Carnegie net. As the celebrations took hold, there’s a lone voice from behind the railings ‘But referee what about the free kick, No…we don’t want the goal, …. we want a free kick, we do, we really want a free kick’. Macca was giggling….and requested that I stopped shouting.



At half time I throw the boys outside to play footy on the pitch next door, which oddly is more like Wembley I follow them out after failing to win the raffle. In truth I’ve never been very lucky, I did once win the national lottery but I squandered it all. A tenner doesn’t get much nowadays.

There's a large stand at the south end of the ground, and an avenue of Oak trees inside the perimeter fence at the North End. The tree roots had caused the path behind the goal to rise and buckle and was deemed unsafe and I was forcibly asked by a Seven year Old to 'remove myself from the area during the second half'. I wasn’t arguing he had a Hull kit on. Carnegie bring their super sub and I’m assured he’s a legend….but only in McDonalds. Shirebrook score in the dying seconds to win 2-0.



Outside, Dan informs Macca that Swansea had taken the lead against Arsenal. Swansea are Macca’s favourite other team and he’s in raptures he’s dancing a jig, he’s running around the team bus, but his delirium is cut short as Dan informs him that Arsenal then went and scored twice. Now Dan’s running around the team bus as Macca attempts to kill him. Boys eh!

Nice friendly club, taking our Dan up to 99 grounds.

Entrance: £10 (1x £5, 2 x 3£). A quid taken off because Dan had his United tracksuit on and we’d beaten Leeds the night before.
Programmes: £1
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derby1884
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PostPosted: Fri Nov 03, 2017 1:02 am 
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I knew it rang a bell!
The East Yorkshire Carnegie shirt is based upon a visual that scared Emma Peel out of her wits in the 1965 Avengers episode "The House That Jack Built".
I'd point to a link on YouTube as proof but as soon as someone posts an episode up, the copyright holder complains and down it comes.....
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PostPosted: Tue Nov 14, 2017 10:36 am 
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After last season I am missing our European tour nights. So on Sunday and as it was an international weekend I went over to Belgium for the Proximus League game between O H Leuven and Roselare with 100 Leicester City fans.
But it was not as it seemed as the whole trip was free (Transport, Hotel and match tickets). Our club and O H Leuven are both owned by King Power (No comments allowed about owing the Thai government money) and LCFC paid for the whole trip.
It was an early start 5am on Sunday morning to catch the ferry to Calais and then a 2 1/2 hour drive to Leuven arriving at 4 pm for a 6 pm kick-off. So after a quick change then a taxi to the ground followed by a couple of drinks in a bar (According to the Belgians the best fans bar in Leuven) next to the stadium we went to the stadium, searched as is the norm these days and took our seats next to the Leuven family stand. No progs produced but plenty of Stella in the ground which you can take to your seats (Well Leuven is the place where there brewery is).
It wasn't a very good game and it ended 1-1 with Roselare equalising in the 76 minute which sent the 43 away fans happy with a draw.
All in all it is a nice compact small stadium which holds about 12000 with the attendance for this game about 4500.
After another few beers on Sunday evening and a nice kip we boarded the bus for the drive back to Calais at 1.30 pm on Monday afternoon, but not before a guided tour round the local Stella Artois factory with free sampling.
It was a good couple of days with the Leuven fans welcoming us to their city we even had some asking if we could go to one of their away games to create an atmosphere. Hope they enjoy our hospitality when they come to Leicester in January.

We even got a mention in the local paper on Monday, don't think our local would include one of the chants though swear words and all.

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sharrowblade
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PostPosted: Wed Nov 15, 2017 8:58 pm 
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Laughing Nice one Keith
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Dorking



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PostPosted: Wed Nov 15, 2017 9:08 pm 
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Loving the sweary report!!!!
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littlewiggy



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PostPosted: Thu Nov 16, 2017 7:27 am 
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Really enjoyed reading this article on Park Avenue (& especially the comments underneath) ...



https://www.theguardian.com/uk-news/2017/nov/15/archaeologist-rich-history-bradford-lost-football-ground


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PostPosted: Thu Nov 16, 2017 10:59 am 
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Ibrox Stadium, Rangers

The discussion had raged all week. Dan's 100th ground. Destination unknown. Dan was confused, so no change there then. Macca was banging on about Stoke, Dan was dreaming of foreign climes and even our next door neighbour stuck his head over the wall and declared 'Its Southampton....nailed on'. But Dan was having none of it, and was sticking to his guns, 'Dad said it was a famous ground, bigger than Bramall Lane...he said it was Iconic. So...its not Stoke, or Southampton and its definitely not West Ham...Dad wouldn't do that to me...so Barcelona is still on the cards'. You can dream Son.

Confusion reigned once more on Saturday morning as we headed north. 'I don't get it, are you sure we're going in the right direction, we've done all the northern one's....there was a temporary pause...'Are we catching a Ferry?' Dan was perplexed.

'Are we going to the Faroes....Where are the Faroes? And, so it went on.

We proceeded across the A66 and stopped at Penrith FC, and we had a tour of the ground by a couple of old boys who were waiting to set off for Cockermouth. They were great.

Options were fast running out, we turned north towards Carlisle, it started to bucket it down, so we stopped for lunch. It was clear we were going to visit our Caledonian cousins, so the moment of truth had arrived.
'Ok lads, which ground in Scotland would you like to visit' said I
'Aberdeen' says Macca
'Inverness Caledonian Thistle' says Dan
Hmmm,....I could see I was onto a winner here
'Alright, come on be serious,... which ground in Scotland would you choose' I continued.
'Oh no... Please God... don't let in be Albion Rovers' pleads Dan'
'Oi, nowt wrong with the Wee Rovers son'
Finally in unison 'Probably.....Rangers'. Result, fist pumps all round, now lets go visit Gretna Laughing

We ventured north of the border, Macca was waxing lyrical about the beauty of the rolling Scottish hills, I was pondering to where civilisation had disappeared to and Dan, was being blown away by Scottish architecture at Wishaw.

Onwards and upwards, to Glasgow. The ground is just off the M8, to the right, we went left and parked up on the first side road, 5 minutes from the ground. Perfect.

Arrived 2pm. Purchased a badge, programmes and a half time ticket from people who I had no idea what they were saying. Circumnavigated the ground in search of a Team-sheet, we passed on the club shop, where 20,000 people were attempting to get in at the same time and after a conversation with a lady in the reception of the Sandy Jardine stand, who again I had difficulty understanding we found ourselves back outside the impressive unmistakable façade of the main stand. I explained my quest and the lads on the door said something to which I replied 'Yes...No...I have no idea what you just said'
They slowed it down 'Did Liz send you over...she's a mad Glaswegian woman', 'Aren't they all' I shrugged and from then on we got on a like a house on fire'. Team-sheets sorted, we went in.

As usual, somebody is in our seats, it crossed my mind 'make way for the English' but I thought better about it. The teams came out to a sea of poppies held up by the crowd. But there was no Kingsley the Mascot. Dan frowned.

We're high up in the family section, the ground was rammed full, the boys are happy and very soon afterwards so are the local Partisans as Rangers take the lead. 'Game over' declares Macca, 'I saw Partick shooting in the warm-up, they're awful'. I dismiss it with a rueful wave, as a father does but secretly I suspected he was right. He was, they were awful, a second goal quickly followed and the result never looked in danger.

Enjoyed the Legends game at half time, and early on after the interval Rangers add a third and then proceed to mess about for the remainder of the game. There's a brief period of excitement as a couple of Partick fans, who'd overdone the Irn Bru were giving it large to the nearest section of home supporters. To be fair it was more entertaining than the game, the crowd rose in unison and let off a volley of 'Rule Britannia'.

Afterwards there's a scuffle outside on a patch of wasteland. I stood, and lamented the futile sadness of it all, Another couple of morons, 'Macca..Dan... pack it in will you!'

Back to the Reliant and onto the motorway within 45 seconds. Head south to Hamilton for something to eat and a large supply of coffee for the long trip home. Arrive back at 10:15pm

The boys gave it the thumbs up Thumbs Up

Tickets: £36 (1 x £24, 2 x £6)
Programmes: £3.50
Badge: £3
Half time ticket £2
BBacon Burger with Hot chilli sauce £3
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Paul Johnson



Joined: 25 Feb 2011
Posts: 789
Location: Roos, East Yorkshire

PostPosted: Thu Nov 16, 2017 7:22 pm 
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love reading your match reports and days out. After my completion of the 92 last season i am thinking of doing the 42 in Scotland. As a hibee i have done motherwell away this season but havent done Rangers yet though i have done the Stadium tour. Gets a bit lively when hibs are in town though lol
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