Saturday, May 26, 2012

 

The Rail Way To Football


Ask many English football fans how they prefer to travel to games and chances are high they will prefer to use the train. The train has long enjoyed a close relationship with the game dating back to the times when teams travelled to games by rail.

As more fans started going to away games British Rail, the then national rail network, started laying on what became known as football specials and pretty soon these became notorious for smelling of urine, having no light bulbs and getting their windows smashed in by locals put out by these outsiders passing through their turf.

Football clubs started organising their own travel for away games, laying on trains that were safe and secure with stewarding and a police escort to the stadium once they arrived at their destination.

Many fans would spurn the official trains, preferring to make their own way by rail and it was a common sight to see, and hear, groups of boisterous young, and not so young, men playing cards and of course drinking plenty of beer as the train sped them to the game.

The beauty of England's rail network is that it takes you through stunning scenery. Football fans who followed their team away would never normally visit; places like Wolverhampton, Middlesbrough or Derby yet come the weekend thousands would descend on these non descript towns just to watch some men kick a ball around.

Outside the carriages, England's green fields would provide a pleasing tapestry. Hedges would be alive with birds while in fields new born lambs would frolic with their siblings while rabbits and hares would scamper away from the onrushing train, alarmed by the speed, size and noise.

The further north you travelled, the grander the view. The north of England, where the Industrial Revolution was born, bears testament to its proud past with grand old buildings in the city centres proof of the riches that flowed their way during the Victorian years. Faded and crumbling they maybe but there is no denying the confidence of the city fathers who proclaimed their town's wealth with imposing buildings congregated around the railway that exported their products.

More rural are the canals; the motorways of their day but today home to an increasing number of holidaymakers content to cruise the canals, negotiate the locks and enjoy a quiet beer at a nearby inn.

The trains' haste seems almost obscene compared to the rural tranquility it disturbs but most fans will no doubt be ignorant of the scenery outside. They'll be busy reading the sports pages, losing money and complaining about their centre half who can't tackle, looking forward to hitting town, watching the game and then returning home, either subdued or buzzing depending on their team's performance.

Fans were always on the lookout for special offers that would save them money on the tickets, freeing more money for beer. The early 1980s saw a washing powder manufacturer offer free tickets depending on many boxes customers bought which saw the unlikely spectacle of fans, and hooligans it must be said, the length and breadth of the country running down to the supermarket and snapping up the requisite number of boxes!

Railway stations were great meeting places with people who had been to many different games converging on one point as they made their way home. For example, passing through Newcastle station one Saturday afternoon recently, a traveller would have come across fans who had been to see Hibernian, Sunderland, non league Gateshead, Carlisle United and Berwick Rangers. Each with their own tale to tell.

The car may be quicker, more efficient and less prone to delay, except for those bloody one way systems and ring roads, but nothing can beat the train when it comes to following your team!

Sunday, May 20, 2012

 

Welcome To All New Manchester City Fans


Sports shops and street vendors throughout the region can expect a few busy days; all around the world, excited new fans will be downloading Blue Moon and listening to Oasis’ classic Wonderwall for the first time after the exciting climax to the English Premier League that saw Manchester City come from behind to score two goals and win their first title in 44 years.
A new species of football fan was born when Sergio Aguero drilled home the winner. The title success means that the Manchester City fan has well and truly arrived in these parts.
Winning the league plus having obscenely rich owners is a heady aphrodisiacal cocktail for teens high on testosterone and susceptible to peer pressure. The Abu Dhabi money has made Manchester City seem sexy, much like Roman Abramovich did with Chelsea and for those of us from an older vintage it is all rather bemusing.
We know, for example that Manchester City were not formed in 2008, when the Arabs swept into the unfashionable half of Manchester, bailing out the shamed former Thai Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra who had enough on his plate to worry about football. We know that City had won nothing for ages, that they had played in the third tier of English football and that they were famous for croaking at the most inopportune moments.
We can now expect to see Manchester City Supporters’ Clubs spread throughout the region as fans celebrate their new heroes and flock together and proclaim their long lasting love for the team they knew nothing about 18 months ago.
So what can the new Manchester City fan expect apart from people laughing at them when they wear their replica shirt or their “I’m City Till I Die’ t shirt?
Not much to be honest. Around the world when fans get together on match day or to watch the game in the pub they have years of shared experiences to talk about and relive. That 1-0 defeat in the last minute way up north when only 200 fans travelled; the time they were chased outside of New Street; that single programme they are missing from the 1973/74 season.
The new City fans have none of this. For them BC does not denote events on the Old Testament or Roman expansion across Europe but the time before Carlos Tevez arrived; a time when to all intents and purposes Manchester City existed in a kind of dark age.
Maine Road means nothing to them. The Sky Blue Holy Trinity of Bell, Lee and Summerbee might as well be a legal firm. The cheeky Denis Law back flick that sent rivals United down back in 1974 will be as remote as the island of Halmahara.
The day that City won 10-1, with three of their strikers scoring hat tricks, will be an unknown piece of history, the yellow inflatable bananas that launched a craze in the early 1980s will be incomprehensible. Georgi Kinkladze? An eastern European diplomat. That single in the year in the third tier of English football. Not on the radar.
They have a whole new lingo to learn as well. For example if they hear someone say Dickov then it is not a term of abuse, rather a reverent recollection of a diminutive Scottish striker named Paul Dickov whose goal in the 2000 play off at Wembley set up the penalty shoot out that helped City escape the ignominy of a second season in English football’s 3rd tier.
Feed the goat does not mean preparing a beast for a family get together but refers to an iconic striker named Shaun Goater. And if they see people wearing a t shirt proudly proclaiming “Uwe’s Grandad Bombed Old Trafford’ then that is not to be taken as a tendency to right wing fascistic leanings but rather a tribute to another legendary striker, Uwe Rosler, and his German ancestry.
There are likely to be several new faces joining the new champions during the summer, just like there are going to be a lot of new faces purchasing their first ever sky blue replica shirt. Both will have a lot to learn about a football club that has its own rich, varied heritage.


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