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Post by foxysgloves on Dec 21, 2017 21:28:11 GMT
Over the last few miserable months, like everyone else I imagine, I often find my mind wandering to seasons gone by. Partly I guess to remind myself that supporting Stoke isn’t always a bag of shite but also, I think, because I’m finding it increasingly hard to really care about football at times. While we’ve never known more about the players we watch (thanks to tabloids, social media, reality tv etc etc) and the game itself (thanks to post match analysis, pre match analysis, pre-post match analysis etc etc) I don’t think I’ve ever felt more disconnected.
I know, I know.....it’s great in many ways. We’re where most of us never imagined for so long. Established top flight club. Packing the stadium. Global exposure. International superstars on the pitch. And all the rest.
But judging from the posts on here I’m not alone in feeling a bit empty at times. Maybe it’s just supporters of a certain vintage (aka. Old fuckers) but it’s a feeling I can’t shake. And yes, I probably wouldn’t be writing this if were top six and semi finals of the League Cup. But I think the feeling would still be there, just a little bit deeper and buried beneath the buzz of success.
Anyway the point of my post is when I do drift away and think back it’s usually one Stoke team that take to the field in my head. Weirdly it’s not the best team we’ve had in my time. All our Premier League teams (sadly possibly bar the current incarnation) would beat them comfortably probably, as would our promotion team. Even some of our earlier Championship teams would be perhaps too strong,
But none of that really matters to me because when you say ‘best Stoke team ever’ to me they appear from a fog of fag smoke, stale beer fumes and the murky gloom illuminated by the floodlights of the Vic. Like Field of Dreams only instead of Kevin Costner there’s Lou Macari leading them out. At this point Eammon Andrews appears with a big red (and white) book and says, ‘Foxysgloves, tonight this is your team’.
And out they jog......
Ronnie Sinclair - far too short for a keeper. Dodgy with his distribution at times. But an excellent shot stopper and always seemed a genuinely nice bloke.
John Butler - another genuinely pleasant character. Solid in defense, decent distribution and an occasional early prototype of the modern wing back (see marauding run and assist for TGO at Vale Park)
Lee Sandford - blonde, built and a Tony Pulis wet dream. A Centre Half who was equally at home at Left Back. And bagged more than his fair share of goals.
Ian Cranson - Granite. Square-jawed, knock kneed (actually I’m not sure he had any knees at all after so many operations) and totally uncompromising. But a really capable footballer. And phenomenal header of the ball.
Vince Overson - Barrel chested and floppy haired he just commanded respect. A natural captain and made the slide tackle into an art form.
Kevin Russell - bald, skinny and looked as unlike a professional footballer as it was possible. But, fuck me, could he play! Pacy and a decent delivery but what I loved was his ability to dribble. Proper old school. Blackpool in the pissing rain. Phenomenal.
Steve Foley - legs like Oak trunks. A nasty streak (ask Neil Aspin) but an incredible competitor. An engine like a Ferrari and a great knack for scoring goals that mattered. Brighton away (I think) to get the equalizer and the draw for the new unbeaten run record.
Nigel Gleghorn - lacked a bit of pace, didn’t look the most athletic but a total wand of a left foot. So composed and precise in his play. No surprise he’s gone into coaching. I imagine he’s the kind of bloke you’d run through a wall for.
Carl Beeston/Paul Ware - I’ve put them together because they were similar in so many ways. The Beast was more cultured in his play, Tupper was more dynamic but both were living the dream and, for us fans, we could live it a bit through them. I don’t mind saying the passing of Paul really upset me. I didn’t know him but I did, if you get me. RIP.
Wayne Biggins - Box office. Bertie Big Bollocks with the ability and charisma to carry it off. A first class finisher. Able to deliver when it mattered and very talented. I love that he still supports the club, says a lot about him as a bloke and the bond between supporters and him.
Mark Stein - Best till last. What can I say that hasn’t been said. He was going nowhere when we signed him, nor were we. Together it just worked. He scored goals and we adored him. Genuinely adored him. At times unplayable and such a natural striker of the ball. One in a million.
So that’s my team. What’s yours?
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Post by Deleted on Dec 21, 2017 21:44:17 GMT
Over the last few miserable months, like everyone else I imagine, I often find my mind wandering to seasons gone by. Partly I guess to remind myself that supporting Stoke isn’t always a bag of shite but also, I think, because I’m finding it increasingly hard to really care about football at times. While we’ve never known more about the players we watch (thanks to tabloids, social media, reality tv etc etc) and the game itself (thanks to post match analysis, pre match analysis, pre-post match analysis etc etc) I don’t think I’ve ever felt more disconnected. I know, I know.....it’s great in many ways. We’re where most of us never imagined for so long. Established top flight club. Packing the stadium. Global exposure. International superstars on the pitch. And all the rest. But judging from the posts on here I’m not alone in feeling a bit empty at times. Maybe it’s just supporters of a certain vintage (aka. Old fuckers) but it’s a feeling I can’t shake. And yes, I probably wouldn’t be writing this if were top six and semi finals of the League Cup. But I think the feeling would still be there, just a little bit deeper and buried beneath the buzz of success. Anyway the point of my post is when I do drift away and think back it’s usually one Stoke team that take to the field in my head. Weirdly it’s not the best team we’ve had in my time. All our Premier League teams (sadly possibly bar the current incarnation) would beat them comfortably probably, as would our promotion team. Even some of our earlier Championship teams would be perhaps too strong, But none of that really matters to me because when you say ‘best Stoke team ever’ to me they appear from a fog of fag smoke, stale beer fumes and the murky gloom illuminated by the floodlights of the Vic. Like Field of Dreams only instead of Kevin Costner there’s Lou Macari leading them out. At this point Eammon Andrews appears with a big red (and white) book and says, ‘Foxysgloves, tonight this is your team’. And out they jog...... Ronnie Sinclair - far too short for a keeper. Dodgy with his distribution at times. But an excellent shot stopper and always seemed a genuinely nice bloke. John Butler - another genuinely pleasant character. Solid in defense, decent distribution and an occasional early prototype of the modern wing back (see marauding run and assist for TGO at Vale Park) Lee Sandford - blonde, built and a Tony Pulis wet dream. A Centre Half who was equally at home at Left Back. And bagged more than his fair share of goals. Ian Cranson - Granite. Square-jawed, knock kneed (actually I’m not sure he had any knees at all after so many operations) and totally uncompromising. But a really capable footballer. And phenomenal header of the ball. Vince Overson - Barrel chested and floppy haired he just commanded respect. A natural captain and made the slide tackle into an art form. Kevin Russell - bald, skinny and looked as unlike a professional footballer as it was possible. But, fuck me, could he play! Pacy and a decent delivery but what I loved was his ability to dribble. Proper old school. Blackpool in the pissing rain. Phenomenal. Steve Foley - legs like Oak trunks. A nasty streak (ask Neil Aspin) but an incredible competitor. An engine like a Ferrari and a great knack for scoring goals that mattered. Brighton away (I think) to get the equalizer and the draw for the new unbeaten run record. Nigel Gleghorn - lacked a bit of pace, didn’t look the most athletic but a total wand of a left foot. So composed and precise in his play. No surprise he’s gone into coaching. I imagine he’s the kind of bloke you’d run through a wall for. Carl Beeston/Paul Ware - I’ve put them together because they were similar in so many ways. The Beast was more cultured in his play, Tupper was more dynamic but both were living the dream and, for us fans, we could live it a bit through them. I don’t mind saying the passing of Paul really upset me. I didn’t know him but I did, if you get me. RIP. Wayne Biggins - Box office. Bertie Big Bollocks with the ability and charisma to carry it off. A first class finisher. Able to deliver when it mattered and very talented. I love that he still supports the club, says a lot about him as a bloke and the bond between supporters and him. Mark Stein - Best till last. What can I say that hasn’t been said. He was going nowhere when we signed him, nor were we. Together it just worked. He scored goals and we adored him. Genuinely adored him. At times unplayable and such a natural striker of the ball. One in a million. So that’s my team. What’s yours? Can I have Peter Fox in goal? |
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Post by foxysgloves on Dec 21, 2017 21:58:56 GMT
Over the last few miserable months, like everyone else I imagine, I often find my mind wandering to seasons gone by. Partly I guess to remind myself that supporting Stoke isn’t always a bag of shite but also, I think, because I’m finding it increasingly hard to really care about football at times. While we’ve never known more about the players we watch (thanks to tabloids, social media, reality tv etc etc) and the game itself (thanks to post match analysis, pre match analysis, pre-post match analysis etc etc) I don’t think I’ve ever felt more disconnected. I know, I know.....it’s great in many ways. We’re where most of us never imagined for so long. Established top flight club. Packing the stadium. Global exposure. International superstars on the pitch. And all the rest. But judging from the posts on here I’m not alone in feeling a bit empty at times. Maybe it’s just supporters of a certain vintage (aka. Old fuckers) but it’s a feeling I can’t shake. And yes, I probably wouldn’t be writing this if were top six and semi finals of the League Cup. But I think the feeling would still be there, just a little bit deeper and buried beneath the buzz of success. Anyway the point of my post is when I do drift away and think back it’s usually one Stoke team that take to the field in my head. Weirdly it’s not the best team we’ve had in my time. All our Premier League teams (sadly possibly bar the current incarnation) would beat them comfortably probably, as would our promotion team. Even some of our earlier Championship teams would be perhaps too strong, But none of that really matters to me because when you say ‘best Stoke team ever’ to me they appear from a fog of fag smoke, stale beer fumes and the murky gloom illuminated by the floodlights of the Vic. Like Field of Dreams only instead of Kevin Costner there’s Lou Macari leading them out. At this point Eammon Andrews appears with a big red (and white) book and says, ‘Foxysgloves, tonight this is your team’. And out they jog...... Ronnie Sinclair - far too short for a keeper. Dodgy with his distribution at times. But an excellent shot stopper and always seemed a genuinely nice bloke. John Butler - another genuinely pleasant character. Solid in defense, decent distribution and an occasional early prototype of the modern wing back (see marauding run and assist for TGO at Vale Park) Lee Sandford - blonde, built and a Tony Pulis wet dream. A Centre Half who was equally at home at Left Back. And bagged more than his fair share of goals. Ian Cranson - Granite. Square-jawed, knock kneed (actually I’m not sure he had any knees at all after so many operations) and totally uncompromising. But a really capable footballer. And phenomenal header of the ball. Vince Overson - Barrel chested and floppy haired he just commanded respect. A natural captain and made the slide tackle into an art form. Kevin Russell - bald, skinny and looked as unlike a professional footballer as it was possible. But, fuck me, could he play! Pacy and a decent delivery but what I loved was his ability to dribble. Proper old school. Blackpool in the pissing rain. Phenomenal. Steve Foley - legs like Oak trunks. A nasty streak (ask Neil Aspin) but an incredible competitor. An engine like a Ferrari and a great knack for scoring goals that mattered. Brighton away (I think) to get the equalizer and the draw for the new unbeaten run record. Nigel Gleghorn - lacked a bit of pace, didn’t look the most athletic but a total wand of a left foot. So composed and precise in his play. No surprise he’s gone into coaching. I imagine he’s the kind of bloke you’d run through a wall for. Carl Beeston/Paul Ware - I’ve put them together because they were similar in so many ways. The Beast was more cultured in his play, Tupper was more dynamic but both were living the dream and, for us fans, we could live it a bit through them. I don’t mind saying the passing of Paul really upset me. I didn’t know him but I did, if you get me. RIP. Wayne Biggins - Box office. Bertie Big Bollocks with the ability and charisma to carry it off. A first class finisher. Able to deliver when it mattered and very talented. I love that he still supports the club, says a lot about him as a bloke and the bond between supporters and him. Mark Stein - Best till last. What can I say that hasn’t been said. He was going nowhere when we signed him, nor were we. Together it just worked. He scored goals and we adored him. Genuinely adored him. At times unplayable and such a natural striker of the ball. One in a million. So that’s my team. What’s yours? Can I have Peter Fox in goal? Haha. Of course. I just find when I think of that team it’s Sinclair in goal. |
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Post by samwidge on Dec 21, 2017 22:06:03 GMT
Over the last few miserable months, like everyone else I imagine, I often find my mind wandering to seasons gone by. Partly I guess to remind myself that supporting Stoke isn’t always a bag of shite but also, I think, because I’m finding it increasingly hard to really care about football at times. While we’ve never known more about the players we watch (thanks to tabloids, social media, reality tv etc etc) and the game itself (thanks to post match analysis, pre match analysis, pre-post match analysis etc etc) I don’t think I’ve ever felt more disconnected. I know, I know.....it’s great in many ways. We’re where most of us never imagined for so long. Established top flight club. Packing the stadium. Global exposure. International superstars on the pitch. And all the rest. But judging from the posts on here I’m not alone in feeling a bit empty at times. Maybe it’s just supporters of a certain vintage (aka. Old fuckers) but it’s a feeling I can’t shake. And yes, I probably wouldn’t be writing this if were top six and semi finals of the League Cup. But I think the feeling would still be there, just a little bit deeper and buried beneath the buzz of success. Anyway the point of my post is when I do drift away and think back it’s usually one Stoke team that take to the field in my head. Weirdly it’s not the best team we’ve had in my time. All our Premier League teams (sadly possibly bar the current incarnation) would beat them comfortably probably, as would our promotion team. Even some of our earlier Championship teams would be perhaps too strong, But none of that really matters to me because when you say ‘best Stoke team ever’ to me they appear from a fog of fag smoke, stale beer fumes and the murky gloom illuminated by the floodlights of the Vic. Like Field of Dreams only instead of Kevin Costner there’s Lou Macari leading them out. At this point Eammon Andrews appears with a big red (and white) book and says, ‘Foxysgloves, tonight this is your team’. And out they jog...... Ronnie Sinclair - far too short for a keeper. Dodgy with his distribution at times. But an excellent shot stopper and always seemed a genuinely nice bloke. John Butler - another genuinely pleasant character. Solid in defense, decent distribution and an occasional early prototype of the modern wing back (see marauding run and assist for TGO at Vale Park) Lee Sandford - blonde, built and a Tony Pulis wet dream. A Centre Half who was equally at home at Left Back. And bagged more than his fair share of goals. Ian Cranson - Granite. Square-jawed, knock kneed (actually I’m not sure he had any knees at all after so many operations) and totally uncompromising. But a really capable footballer. And phenomenal header of the ball. Vince Overson - Barrel chested and floppy haired he just commanded respect. A natural captain and made the slide tackle into an art form. Kevin Russell - bald, skinny and looked as unlike a professional footballer as it was possible. But, fuck me, could he play! Pacy and a decent delivery but what I loved was his ability to dribble. Proper old school. Blackpool in the pissing rain. Phenomenal. Steve Foley - legs like Oak trunks. A nasty streak (ask Neil Aspin) but an incredible competitor. An engine like a Ferrari and a great knack for scoring goals that mattered. Brighton away (I think) to get the equalizer and the draw for the new unbeaten run record. Nigel Gleghorn - lacked a bit of pace, didn’t look the most athletic but a total wand of a left foot. So composed and precise in his play. No surprise he’s gone into coaching. I imagine he’s the kind of bloke you’d run through a wall for. Carl Beeston/Paul Ware - I’ve put them together because they were similar in so many ways. The Beast was more cultured in his play, Tupper was more dynamic but both were living the dream and, for us fans, we could live it a bit through them. I don’t mind saying the passing of Paul really upset me. I didn’t know him but I did, if you get me. RIP. Wayne Biggins - Box office. Bertie Big Bollocks with the ability and charisma to carry it off. A first class finisher. Able to deliver when it mattered and very talented. I love that he still supports the club, says a lot about him as a bloke and the bond between supporters and him. Mark Stein - Best till last. What can I say that hasn’t been said. He was going nowhere when we signed him, nor were we. Together it just worked. He scored goals and we adored him. Genuinely adored him. At times unplayable and such a natural striker of the ball. One in a million. So that’s my team. What’s yours? That's a fabulous post right there. Agree with every word. Bravo |
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Post by Deleted on Dec 21, 2017 22:14:25 GMT
Banks, marsh, smith, bloor, pejic, Matthews, nzonzi, Hudson, gleghorn, Conroe, greenhoff most are from 1972 but what a team?
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Post by Deleted on Dec 21, 2017 22:44:59 GMT
Class of ‘97
Muggleton, Pickering, Sigurdsson, Tweed, Griffin, Keen, Wallace, Kavanagh, Forsyth, Stewart, Thorne
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Post by Deleted on Dec 21, 2017 22:55:42 GMT
Banks, Smith, shawcross, marsh, dixon, mahoney hudson pennant etherington greenhoff Chapman (Heath Nzonzi STein)
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Post by cooper67 on Dec 21, 2017 22:59:35 GMT
I've gone misty eyed at the opening post.
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Post by cheadlepotter on Dec 21, 2017 23:02:39 GMT
Neil Cutler - the promotion season and him letting the ball bounce off his head in injury time at the Millenium
Carl Dickinson - that picture of the promotion pitch invasion
Gerry Taggart - hard as nails and exactly what we needed at the time
Ryan Shawcross - our captain at our best in my lifetime and my lucky number 17
Carl Hoefkens - loved the tricks and the look
Peter Hoekstra - a magician, a type I hadn’t seen in a Stoke shirt before
Graham Kavanagh - my first favourite player but I hated him after Cardiff move
Darel Russell - don’t shoot Darel, don’t, dont, oh ffs
Xherdan Shaqiri - he only scores screamers
Ade Akinbiyi - effort and character, and that goal vs reading
Peter Crouch - great character and keeps scoring goals
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Post by numpty40 on Dec 21, 2017 23:11:21 GMT
Cleghorn was one of my favourites, very underrated but came in for a bit of stick from the locals.
Never wasted a ball and despite a lack of pace always made himself available for a pass, he was a brilliant reader of the game.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 21, 2017 23:50:04 GMT
Banks
Marsh
Pejic
Smith
Bloor
Mahoney
Etherington
Hudson
Greenhoff
Ritchie
Matthews
Subs
Sorenson
Dodd
Shawcross
Nzonzi
Burrows
Fuller
Stein
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Post by Gods on Dec 21, 2017 23:55:42 GMT
Lee Sandford became a professional Financial Trader didn't he and went on a public speaking tour promoting his book 'Goals to Gold' available at all dodgy airport book shops in the 'Business Traveller' section!
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Post by johnbutlershair on Dec 21, 2017 23:59:32 GMT
Over the last few miserable months, like everyone else I imagine, I often find my mind wandering to seasons gone by. Partly I guess to remind myself that supporting Stoke isn’t always a bag of shite but also, I think, because I’m finding it increasingly hard to really care about football at times. While we’ve never known more about the players we watch (thanks to tabloids, social media, reality tv etc etc) and the game itself (thanks to post match analysis, pre match analysis, pre-post match analysis etc etc) I don’t think I’ve ever felt more disconnected. I know, I know.....it’s great in many ways. We’re where most of us never imagined for so long. Established top flight club. Packing the stadium. Global exposure. International superstars on the pitch. And all the rest. But judging from the posts on here I’m not alone in feeling a bit empty at times. Maybe it’s just supporters of a certain vintage (aka. Old fuckers) but it’s a feeling I can’t shake. And yes, I probably wouldn’t be writing this if were top six and semi finals of the League Cup. But I think the feeling would still be there, just a little bit deeper and buried beneath the buzz of success. Anyway the point of my post is when I do drift away and think back it’s usually one Stoke team that take to the field in my head. Weirdly it’s not the best team we’ve had in my time. All our Premier League teams (sadly possibly bar the current incarnation) would beat them comfortably probably, as would our promotion team. Even some of our earlier Championship teams would be perhaps too strong, But none of that really matters to me because when you say ‘best Stoke team ever’ to me they appear from a fog of fag smoke, stale beer fumes and the murky gloom illuminated by the floodlights of the Vic. Like Field of Dreams only instead of Kevin Costner there’s Lou Macari leading them out. At this point Eammon Andrews appears with a big red (and white) book and says, ‘Foxysgloves, tonight this is your team’. And out they jog...... Ronnie Sinclair - far too short for a keeper. Dodgy with his distribution at times. But an excellent shot stopper and always seemed a genuinely nice bloke. John Butler - another genuinely pleasant character. Solid in defense, decent distribution and an occasional early prototype of the modern wing back (see marauding run and assist for TGO at Vale Park) Lee Sandford - blonde, built and a Tony Pulis wet dream. A Centre Half who was equally at home at Left Back. And bagged more than his fair share of goals. Ian Cranson - Granite. Square-jawed, knock kneed (actually I’m not sure he had any knees at all after so many operations) and totally uncompromising. But a really capable footballer. And phenomenal header of the ball. Vince Overson - Barrel chested and floppy haired he just commanded respect. A natural captain and made the slide tackle into an art form. Kevin Russell - bald, skinny and looked as unlike a professional footballer as it was possible. But, fuck me, could he play! Pacy and a decent delivery but what I loved was his ability to dribble. Proper old school. Blackpool in the pissing rain. Phenomenal. Steve Foley - legs like Oak trunks. A nasty streak (ask Neil Aspin) but an incredible competitor. An engine like a Ferrari and a great knack for scoring goals that mattered. Brighton away (I think) to get the equalizer and the draw for the new unbeaten run record. Nigel Gleghorn - lacked a bit of pace, didn’t look the most athletic but a total wand of a left foot. So composed and precise in his play. No surprise he’s gone into coaching. I imagine he’s the kind of bloke you’d run through a wall for. Carl Beeston/Paul Ware - I’ve put them together because they were similar in so many ways. The Beast was more cultured in his play, Tupper was more dynamic but both were living the dream and, for us fans, we could live it a bit through them. I don’t mind saying the passing of Paul really upset me. I didn’t know him but I did, if you get me. RIP. Wayne Biggins - Box office. Bertie Big Bollocks with the ability and charisma to carry it off. A first class finisher. Able to deliver when it mattered and very talented. I love that he still supports the club, says a lot about him as a bloke and the bond between supporters and him. Mark Stein - Best till last. What can I say that hasn’t been said. He was going nowhere when we signed him, nor were we. Together it just worked. He scored goals and we adored him. Genuinely adored him. At times unplayable and such a natural striker of the ball. One in a million. So that’s my team. What’s yours? Just this all over. I'd been going to stoke for about 6 or seven years previously but this is when I really fell in love with the game. John Butler I idolised and is still my all time favourite player. The atmosphere on the boothen was always electric, 5 Potteries derbies that season, the 4 3 against West Brom, the promotion night against Plymouth, always confident Stein would score. A great time to be a fan |
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Post by supersimonstainrod on Dec 22, 2017 0:21:40 GMT
Over the last few miserable months, like everyone else I imagine, I often find my mind wandering to seasons gone by. Partly I guess to remind myself that supporting Stoke isn’t always a bag of shite but also, I think, because I’m finding it increasingly hard to really care about football at times. While we’ve never known more about the players we watch (thanks to tabloids, social media, reality tv etc etc) and the game itself (thanks to post match analysis, pre match analysis, pre-post match analysis etc etc) I don’t think I’ve ever felt more disconnected. I know, I know.....it’s great in many ways. We’re where most of us never imagined for so long. Established top flight club. Packing the stadium. Global exposure. International superstars on the pitch. And all the rest. But judging from the posts on here I’m not alone in feeling a bit empty at times. Maybe it’s just supporters of a certain vintage (aka. Old fuckers) but it’s a feeling I can’t shake. And yes, I probably wouldn’t be writing this if were top six and semi finals of the League Cup. But I think the feeling would still be there, just a little bit deeper and buried beneath the buzz of success. Anyway the point of my post is when I do drift away and think back it’s usually one Stoke team that take to the field in my head. Weirdly it’s not the best team we’ve had in my time. All our Premier League teams (sadly possibly bar the current incarnation) would beat them comfortably probably, as would our promotion team. Even some of our earlier Championship teams would be perhaps too strong, But none of that really matters to me because when you say ‘best Stoke team ever’ to me they appear from a fog of fag smoke, stale beer fumes and the murky gloom illuminated by the floodlights of the Vic. Like Field of Dreams only instead of Kevin Costner there’s Lou Macari leading them out. At this point Eammon Andrews appears with a big red (and white) book and says, ‘Foxysgloves, tonight this is your team’. And out they jog...... Ronnie Sinclair - far too short for a keeper. Dodgy with his distribution at times. But an excellent shot stopper and always seemed a genuinely nice bloke. John Butler - another genuinely pleasant character. Solid in defense, decent distribution and an occasional early prototype of the modern wing back (see marauding run and assist for TGO at Vale Park) Lee Sandford - blonde, built and a Tony Pulis wet dream. A Centre Half who was equally at home at Left Back. And bagged more than his fair share of goals. Ian Cranson - Granite. Square-jawed, knock kneed (actually I’m not sure he had any knees at all after so many operations) and totally uncompromising. But a really capable footballer. And phenomenal header of the ball. Vince Overson - Barrel chested and floppy haired he just commanded respect. A natural captain and made the slide tackle into an art form. Kevin Russell - bald, skinny and looked as unlike a professional footballer as it was possible. But, fuck me, could he play! Pacy and a decent delivery but what I loved was his ability to dribble. Proper old school. Blackpool in the pissing rain. Phenomenal. Steve Foley - legs like Oak trunks. A nasty streak (ask Neil Aspin) but an incredible competitor. An engine like a Ferrari and a great knack for scoring goals that mattered. Brighton away (I think) to get the equalizer and the draw for the new unbeaten run record. Nigel Gleghorn - lacked a bit of pace, didn’t look the most athletic but a total wand of a left foot. So composed and precise in his play. No surprise he’s gone into coaching. I imagine he’s the kind of bloke you’d run through a wall for. Carl Beeston/Paul Ware - I’ve put them together because they were similar in so many ways. The Beast was more cultured in his play, Tupper was more dynamic but both were living the dream and, for us fans, we could live it a bit through them. I don’t mind saying the passing of Paul really upset me. I didn’t know him but I did, if you get me. RIP. Wayne Biggins - Box office. Bertie Big Bollocks with the ability and charisma to carry it off. A first class finisher. Able to deliver when it mattered and very talented. I love that he still supports the club, says a lot about him as a bloke and the bond between supporters and him. Mark Stein - Best till last. What can I say that hasn’t been said. He was going nowhere when we signed him, nor were we. Together it just worked. He scored goals and we adored him. Genuinely adored him. At times unplayable and such a natural striker of the ball. One in a million. So that’s my team. What’s yours? Top,Top post. Think Alan Ball said,after we battered his Exeter side,that our forward line up was light years ahead of anything else in the division. Throw in a collection of man mountains at the back for superadded invincibility. The only time I've gone to Stoke games expecting to win,you just knew Lou would have the boys up for it,and they'd deliver. Great days. |
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Post by Deleted on Dec 22, 2017 2:25:57 GMT
I've gone misty eyed at the opening post. They were the days. Players, manager and fans - as one. |
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Post by cooper67 on Dec 22, 2017 2:33:22 GMT
I've gone misty eyed at the opening post. They were the days. Players, manager and fans - as one. As somebody above posted-you just knew that we would put in a performance no matter what the result. Walking down to the ground singing 'Lou,Lou,skip to my Lou'. |
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Post by Deleted on Dec 22, 2017 2:36:06 GMT
They were the days. Players, manager and fans - as one. As somebody above posted-you just knew that we would put in a performance no matter what the result. Walking down to the ground singing 'Lou,Lou,skip to my Lou'. Pissed up. Wandering the streets. Still messed up from the night before. Night out after the game. Famous faces everywhere. Good times. |
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Post by wizzardofdribble on Dec 22, 2017 6:17:36 GMT
Over the last few miserable months, like everyone else I imagine, I often find my mind wandering to seasons gone by. Partly I guess to remind myself that supporting Stoke isn’t always a bag of shite but also, I think, because I’m finding it increasingly hard to really care about football at times. While we’ve never known more about the players we watch (thanks to tabloids, social media, reality tv etc etc) and the game itself (thanks to post match analysis, pre match analysis, pre-post match analysis etc etc) I don’t think I’ve ever felt more disconnected. I know, I know.....it’s great in many ways. We’re where most of us never imagined for so long. Established top flight club. Packing the stadium. Global exposure. International superstars on the pitch. And all the rest. But judging from the posts on here I’m not alone in feeling a bit empty at times. Maybe it’s just supporters of a certain vintage (aka. Old fuckers) but it’s a feeling I can’t shake. And yes, I probably wouldn’t be writing this if were top six and semi finals of the League Cup. But I think the feeling would still be there, just a little bit deeper and buried beneath the buzz of success. Anyway the point of my post is when I do drift away and think back it’s usually one Stoke team that take to the field in my head. Weirdly it’s not the best team we’ve had in my time. All our Premier League teams (sadly possibly bar the current incarnation) would beat them comfortably probably, as would our promotion team. Even some of our earlier Championship teams would be perhaps too strong, But none of that really matters to me because when you say ‘best Stoke team ever’ to me they appear from a fog of fag smoke, stale beer fumes and the murky gloom illuminated by the floodlights of the Vic. Like Field of Dreams only instead of Kevin Costner there’s Lou Macari leading them out. At this point Eammon Andrews appears with a big red (and white) book and says, ‘Foxysgloves, tonight this is your team’. And out they jog...... Ronnie Sinclair - far too short for a keeper. Dodgy with his distribution at times. But an excellent shot stopper and always seemed a genuinely nice bloke. John Butler - another genuinely pleasant character. Solid in defense, decent distribution and an occasional early prototype of the modern wing back (see marauding run and assist for TGO at Vale Park) Lee Sandford - blonde, built and a Tony Pulis wet dream. A Centre Half who was equally at home at Left Back. And bagged more than his fair share of goals. Ian Cranson - Granite. Square-jawed, knock kneed (actually I’m not sure he had any knees at all after so many operations) and totally uncompromising. But a really capable footballer. And phenomenal header of the ball. Vince Overson - Barrel chested and floppy haired he just commanded respect. A natural captain and made the slide tackle into an art form. Kevin Russell - bald, skinny and looked as unlike a professional footballer as it was possible. But, fuck me, could he play! Pacy and a decent delivery but what I loved was his ability to dribble. Proper old school. Blackpool in the pissing rain. Phenomenal. Steve Foley - legs like Oak trunks. A nasty streak (ask Neil Aspin) but an incredible competitor. An engine like a Ferrari and a great knack for scoring goals that mattered. Brighton away (I think) to get the equalizer and the draw for the new unbeaten run record. Nigel Gleghorn - lacked a bit of pace, didn’t look the most athletic but a total wand of a left foot. So composed and precise in his play. No surprise he’s gone into coaching. I imagine he’s the kind of bloke you’d run through a wall for. Carl Beeston/Paul Ware - I’ve put them together because they were similar in so many ways. The Beast was more cultured in his play, Tupper was more dynamic but both were living the dream and, for us fans, we could live it a bit through them. I don’t mind saying the passing of Paul really upset me. I didn’t know him but I did, if you get me. RIP. Wayne Biggins - Box office. Bertie Big Bollocks with the ability and charisma to carry it off. A first class finisher. Able to deliver when it mattered and very talented. I love that he still supports the club, says a lot about him as a bloke and the bond between supporters and him. Mark Stein - Best till last. What can I say that hasn’t been said. He was going nowhere when we signed him, nor were we. Together it just worked. He scored goals and we adored him. Genuinely adored him. At times unplayable and such a natural striker of the ball. One in a million. So that’s my team. What’s yours? No Freezer !!! 😵 |
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Post by barnscfc1 on Dec 22, 2017 6:48:19 GMT
Over the last few miserable months, like everyone else I imagine, I often find my mind wandering to seasons gone by. Partly I guess to remind myself that supporting Stoke isn’t always a bag of shite but also, I think, because I’m finding it increasingly hard to really care about football at times. While we’ve never known more about the players we watch (thanks to tabloids, social media, reality tv etc etc) and the game itself (thanks to post match analysis, pre match analysis, pre-post match analysis etc etc) I don’t think I’ve ever felt more disconnected. I know, I know.....it’s great in many ways. We’re where most of us never imagined for so long. Established top flight club. Packing the stadium. Global exposure. International superstars on the pitch. And all the rest. But judging from the posts on here I’m not alone in feeling a bit empty at times. Maybe it’s just supporters of a certain vintage (aka. Old fuckers) but it’s a feeling I can’t shake. And yes, I probably wouldn’t be writing this if were top six and semi finals of the League Cup. But I think the feeling would still be there, just a little bit deeper and buried beneath the buzz of success. Anyway the point of my post is when I do drift away and think back it’s usually one Stoke team that take to the field in my head. Weirdly it’s not the best team we’ve had in my time. All our Premier League teams (sadly possibly bar the current incarnation) would beat them comfortably probably, as would our promotion team. Even some of our earlier Championship teams would be perhaps too strong, But none of that really matters to me because when you say ‘best Stoke team ever’ to me they appear from a fog of fag smoke, stale beer fumes and the murky gloom illuminated by the floodlights of the Vic. Like Field of Dreams only instead of Kevin Costner there’s Lou Macari leading them out. At this point Eammon Andrews appears with a big red (and white) book and says, ‘Foxysgloves, tonight this is your team’. And out they jog...... Ronnie Sinclair - far too short for a keeper. Dodgy with his distribution at times. But an excellent shot stopper and always seemed a genuinely nice bloke. John Butler - another genuinely pleasant character. Solid in defense, decent distribution and an occasional early prototype of the modern wing back (see marauding run and assist for TGO at Vale Park) Lee Sandford - blonde, built and a Tony Pulis wet dream. A Centre Half who was equally at home at Left Back. And bagged more than his fair share of goals. Ian Cranson - Granite. Square-jawed, knock kneed (actually I’m not sure he had any knees at all after so many operations) and totally uncompromising. But a really capable footballer. And phenomenal header of the ball. Vince Overson - Barrel chested and floppy haired he just commanded respect. A natural captain and made the slide tackle into an art form. Kevin Russell - bald, skinny and looked as unlike a professional footballer as it was possible. But, fuck me, could he play! Pacy and a decent delivery but what I loved was his ability to dribble. Proper old school. Blackpool in the pissing rain. Phenomenal. Steve Foley - legs like Oak trunks. A nasty streak (ask Neil Aspin) but an incredible competitor. An engine like a Ferrari and a great knack for scoring goals that mattered. Brighton away (I think) to get the equalizer and the draw for the new unbeaten run record. Nigel Gleghorn - lacked a bit of pace, didn’t look the most athletic but a total wand of a left foot. So composed and precise in his play. No surprise he’s gone into coaching. I imagine he’s the kind of bloke you’d run through a wall for. Carl Beeston/Paul Ware - I’ve put them together because they were similar in so many ways. The Beast was more cultured in his play, Tupper was more dynamic but both were living the dream and, for us fans, we could live it a bit through them. I don’t mind saying the passing of Paul really upset me. I didn’t know him but I did, if you get me. RIP. Wayne Biggins - Box office. Bertie Big Bollocks with the ability and charisma to carry it off. A first class finisher. Able to deliver when it mattered and very talented. I love that he still supports the club, says a lot about him as a bloke and the bond between supporters and him. Mark Stein - Best till last. What can I say that hasn’t been said. He was going nowhere when we signed him, nor were we. Together it just worked. He scored goals and we adored him. Genuinely adored him. At times unplayable and such a natural striker of the ball. One in a million. So that’s my team. What’s yours? ooooohhhh Ronnie ronnie |
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Post by barnscfc1 on Dec 22, 2017 6:54:41 GMT
Saw the Stoke from 73ish with my old man.... But that team was with the 'lads' from Corkies on the West End, great lads and a great time. Washo. Glenda, Jezza, Stevo etc. Deka and Diane behind the bar... Great away days - non of this PC crap either - great songs, Wish i could relive it all again
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Post by Bombus on Dec 22, 2017 7:25:03 GMT
Foxy you legend
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Post by Deleted on Dec 22, 2017 7:32:45 GMT
Great post Foxy.
My favourite Stoke side ever and always will be.
The term "The good old days" is reserved for the early 90's for me and watching that Stoke side as a 19-20 year old was as good as it gets.
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Post by foxysgloves on Dec 22, 2017 9:57:56 GMT
Great post Foxy. My favourite Stoke side ever and always will be. The term "The good old days" is reserved for the early 90's for me and watching that Stoke side as a 19-20 year old was as good as it gets. Cheers. I think the age that we were is a big thing too. I was early 20s too and the whole match day experience was brilliant back then. |
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Post by foxysgloves on Dec 22, 2017 9:58:48 GMT
Legend is a term thrown around far too easily these days. Totally justified in this case though!!!! |
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Post by Dutchpeter on Dec 22, 2017 10:29:22 GMT
I agree with the OP about the early 90’s Lou Macari team. For me, i was 18/19 years old, and I’d mainly seen Stoke City dropping down the leagues or finishing in low league placings. So to see a Stoke City team dominating its league, was heady stuff, pity the wheels came off soon after. Another point about that era (Tin hat on), was the Victoria Ground faithful had a very large minority of young working class support that had this incredible togetherness. It really felt like a village then, and I’m sure that’s why we had those large and noisey away followings. We all know how an all seater stadium breaks up the communal feel of a support, but I venture that because we draw support from all sections of society we don’t have that cameraderie that once existed. I liken those days to being part of a youth culture scene, like the Mods or Rockers.
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Post by foxysgloves on Dec 22, 2017 10:55:53 GMT
I agree with the OP about the early 90’s Lou Macari team. For me, i was 18/19 years old, and I’d mainly seen Stoke City dropping down the leagues or finishing in low league placings. So to see a Stoke City team dominating its league, was heady stuff, pity the wheels came off soon after. Another point about that era (Tin hat on), was the Victoria Ground faithful had a very large minority of young working class support that had this incredible togetherness. It really felt like a village then, and I’m sure that’s why we had those large and noisey away followings. We all know how an all seater stadium breaks up the communal feel of a support, but I venture that because we draw support from all sections of society we don’t have that cameraderie that once existed. I liken those days to being part of a youth culture scene, like the Mods or Rockers. Totally agree re. The scene. It felt like you were part of something and it mattered. |
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Post by Deleted on Dec 22, 2017 13:59:39 GMT
I agree with the OP about the early 90’s Lou Macari team. For me, i was 18/19 years old, and I’d mainly seen Stoke City dropping down the leagues or finishing in low league placings. So to see a Stoke City team dominating its league, was heady stuff, pity the wheels came off soon after. Another point about that era (Tin hat on), was the Victoria Ground faithful had a very large minority of young working class support that had this incredible togetherness. It really felt like a village then, and I’m sure that’s why we had those large and noisey away followings. We all know how an all seater stadium breaks up the communal feel of a support, but I venture that because we draw support from all sections of society we don’t have that cameraderie that once existed. I liken those days to being part of a youth culture scene, like the Mods or Rockers. 30-40 years later those same faces matter. You could walk into a pub today and have that same banter and vibe. Stoke are a tight bunch, even now, even in this watered down, sanitized, Premiership "wonderland". |
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Post by onesteino on Dec 22, 2017 14:19:45 GMT
Over the last few miserable months, like everyone else I imagine, I often find my mind wandering to seasons gone by. Partly I guess to remind myself that supporting Stoke isn’t always a bag of shite but also, I think, because I’m finding it increasingly hard to really care about football at times. While we’ve never known more about the players we watch (thanks to tabloids, social media, reality tv etc etc) and the game itself (thanks to post match analysis, pre match analysis, pre-post match analysis etc etc) I don’t think I’ve ever felt more disconnected. I know, I know.....it’s great in many ways. We’re where most of us never imagined for so long. Established top flight club. Packing the stadium. Global exposure. International superstars on the pitch. And all the rest. But judging from the posts on here I’m not alone in feeling a bit empty at times. Maybe it’s just supporters of a certain vintage (aka. Old fuckers) but it’s a feeling I can’t shake. And yes, I probably wouldn’t be writing this if were top six and semi finals of the League Cup. But I think the feeling would still be there, just a little bit deeper and buried beneath the buzz of success. Anyway the point of my post is when I do drift away and think back it’s usually one Stoke team that take to the field in my head. Weirdly it’s not the best team we’ve had in my time. All our Premier League teams (sadly possibly bar the current incarnation) would beat them comfortably probably, as would our promotion team. Even some of our earlier Championship teams would be perhaps too strong, But none of that really matters to me because when you say ‘best Stoke team ever’ to me they appear from a fog of fag smoke, stale beer fumes and the murky gloom illuminated by the floodlights of the Vic. Like Field of Dreams only instead of Kevin Costner there’s Lou Macari leading them out. At this point Eammon Andrews appears with a big red (and white) book and says, ‘Foxysgloves, tonight this is your team’. And out they jog...... Ronnie Sinclair - far too short for a keeper. Dodgy with his distribution at times. But an excellent shot stopper and always seemed a genuinely nice bloke. John Butler - another genuinely pleasant character. Solid in defense, decent distribution and an occasional early prototype of the modern wing back (see marauding run and assist for TGO at Vale Park) Lee Sandford - blonde, built and a Tony Pulis wet dream. A Centre Half who was equally at home at Left Back. And bagged more than his fair share of goals. Ian Cranson - Granite. Square-jawed, knock kneed (actually I’m not sure he had any knees at all after so many operations) and totally uncompromising. But a really capable footballer. And phenomenal header of the ball. Vince Overson - Barrel chested and floppy haired he just commanded respect. A natural captain and made the slide tackle into an art form. Kevin Russell - bald, skinny and looked as unlike a professional footballer as it was possible. But, fuck me, could he play! Pacy and a decent delivery but what I loved was his ability to dribble. Proper old school. Blackpool in the pissing rain. Phenomenal. Steve Foley - legs like Oak trunks. A nasty streak (ask Neil Aspin) but an incredible competitor. An engine like a Ferrari and a great knack for scoring goals that mattered. Brighton away (I think) to get the equalizer and the draw for the new unbeaten run record. Nigel Gleghorn - lacked a bit of pace, didn’t look the most athletic but a total wand of a left foot. So composed and precise in his play. No surprise he’s gone into coaching. I imagine he’s the kind of bloke you’d run through a wall for. Carl Beeston/Paul Ware - I’ve put them together because they were similar in so many ways. The Beast was more cultured in his play, Tupper was more dynamic but both were living the dream and, for us fans, we could live it a bit through them. I don’t mind saying the passing of Paul really upset me. I didn’t know him but I did, if you get me. RIP. Wayne Biggins - Box office. Bertie Big Bollocks with the ability and charisma to carry it off. A first class finisher. Able to deliver when it mattered and very talented. I love that he still supports the club, says a lot about him as a bloke and the bond between supporters and him. Mark Stein - Best till last. What can I say that hasn’t been said. He was going nowhere when we signed him, nor were we. Together it just worked. He scored goals and we adored him. Genuinely adored him. At times unplayable and such a natural striker of the ball. One in a million. So that’s my team. What’s yours? My first and favourite ever Stoke team. I genuinely used to think that I must have missed something when I hear other people my age bang on about how great players at the time like Cantona and Bryan Robson were. Then I realise it's because I idolised our own team of 92-93 so much that no other team/players mattered. The 7 year old me was far more interested in the likes of Steino and Big Vince, then Toddy Orlygsson - great to see him in Saturday! I used to get my dad to drive me up to see Overson's house on Waterhayes for a glimpse of him. Was completely star struck when my dad pulled over to talk to him. As great as our team is now (regardless of being 25 years older!)there isn't anybody in the current set up that I get carried away with in the same manner. Gone are the days when the Stoke team lived locally and felt as if they were representing Stoke. I think only Joe Allen is nearby now, coincidentally of the current crop he's the only one that I feel would make my squad. Agree fully with Foxy's gloves, but would have to stick Hoekstra in there above Russell, simply because he was the most skilful player I'd seen at Stoke. |
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Post by andystokey on Dec 22, 2017 14:35:05 GMT
As somebody above posted-you just knew that we would put in a performance no matter what the result. Walking down to the ground singing 'Lou,Lou,skip to my Lou'. Pissed up. Wandering the streets. Still messed up from the night before. Night out after the game. Famous faces everywhere. Good times. no one mentioned Uncle Toms Cabin by 12pm. I still walk past it every home game and hear the ghosts ( and the smell of the bogs) ;-) |
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Post by Deleted on Dec 22, 2017 15:10:39 GMT
Pissed up. Wandering the streets. Still messed up from the night before. Night out after the game. Famous faces everywhere. Good times. no one mentioned Uncle Toms Cabin by 12pm. I still walk past it every home game and hear the ghosts ( and the smell of the bogs) ;-) The Sheaf early doors. Full of faces that looked like they should be in prison. Glebe. Harry's. Staff. Valentines. Every pub, full of horrible Stoke. |
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