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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