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?