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Post by Deleted on Sept 30, 2010 19:40:33 GMT
My first game was Sir Stan's last home game, against Fulham. And I also remember the testimonial. Not a bad set of players for one of your first live games  you just caught him in time before he retired |
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ceramicprom
Academy Starlet
Is cutting back the new way forward?
Posts: 124
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Post by ceramicprom on Sept 30, 2010 19:50:02 GMT
Can't really remember my 1st game
i think it was awa at blackpool around 93?? (does that seem right)
The only thing i remember was a young Trevor Sinclair being head and shoulders better than anyone on the pitch!!
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Post by Deleted on Sept 30, 2010 19:58:10 GMT
My first introduction to the red and white was when my dad (boro fan!!) took me as a very young lad to a reserve game v Huddersfield (I think) in the early 60's - there must have only been about 50 in the Vic that day and I think we drew 1-1.
Since then there have been oh so many good memories and unfortunately very bad, but the Stoke addiction has always remained, and always will - Stoke till I die.
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Post by Spiros on Sept 30, 2010 20:06:32 GMT
Stoke City 2-5 Middlesbrough For my 5th birthday. 55 years on and still going down. Nothing will put me off. Come on Stoke !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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Post by scotplasstokie on Sept 30, 2010 20:17:13 GMT
Can't really remember my 1st game i think it was awa at blackpool around 93?? (does that seem right) The only thing i remember was a young Trevor Sinclair being head and shoulders better than anyone on the pitch!! i remember that game quite well, it was probaly the biggest coupon buster of the weekend,benjamin broke away quite late in the game and scored for blackpool to beat us 0-1.my biggest memory is the blackpool fans in the butler street stand going absolutely fucking mental.it was orange pandemonium in there for minutes...great mental....for them  |
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Post by bettsy on Sept 30, 2010 20:28:54 GMT
1992 home to stockport (i think) peter fox in goal and im sure we won 2-1, i was 9
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Post by JoeinOz on Oct 1, 2010 0:23:01 GMT
November 2nd 1974. Infancy about to experience one of the defining moments of an entire
life. For the first time approaching the Victoria Ground, clinging to dads hand and The Four Tops I'll Be There hissing out from the tannoy. The turnstile itself provided a challenge. What a strange obstacle for a five year old to negotiate! Walking past the tea bar, up the steps to see a small strip of grass through legs. The higher on the steps more green becomes visible until reaching the top then looking down on a great big strip of grass....and it was paradise.
Football matches had a specific aroma in those days. The unique smell of bovril cigar smoke and anxiety. A moody autumn sky added to the morose demeanour. A childs mind is unhindered by critical faculties. When our players emerged each one of them held God like status. OK, some were no doubt better players than others, but just wearing our red & white stripes secured my affection. However, there is still room for a special one. Mine was our blonde bombshell Jimmy Greenhoff. I've seen better players (though not many) but it was Jimmy who opened the window, through which I gleefully climbed, to open my heart and mind to the possibilities of the greatest game on earth.
Jimmy dominated my early football watching career. Sitting on the wall in the Butler Street Paddock and Jimmy moves to a wide position. The first time in my life I felt awestruck. The great Jimmy Greenhoff was a matter of feet away from me. Being in the park with my brother and dad practising Jimmy volleys. And a blistering one against Leeds winning us a cracking game. (By Jimmy not by us in the park!) Sadly, I also remember crying on a Saturday morning in December 1976 when dad showed me the back of the Daily Mirror and it displayed the unthinkable news. Greenhoff had gone to Man Yoo. He didn't want to leave us. Betrayed by Stoke City Football Club. That news indelibly stamped a cynical edge in my mind. Seven is too young to endure heartbreak as deep as that. The next game I sort of expected him to be playing for us. Stoke City without Jimmy? Impossible. The next game I expected him to be there as usual. But gone he was...to win the FA Cup as we got relegated.
For all the heartbreak attached to supporting a football club, would we really want things any other way? Surely the glory of the great moments is exacerbated by their rarity. When we see gloryhunters we resent what they symbolise. Soulless empty mercenaries bathing in tepid reflected glory which is riddled with poison. Could the brigade of parasites who attach themselves to a football club by way of a bedspread feel the warmth I feel when I reflect on my infatuation with Jimmy?
The pride and passion we feel for our team is something few of us would really want to change. And, I'm sure like many of you reading this, I'm so glad I grew up loving that great big strip of grass.
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Post by Paul Spencer on Oct 1, 2010 1:29:23 GMT
November 2nd 1974. Infancy about to experience one of the defining moments of an entire life. For the first time approaching the Victoria Ground, clinging to dads hand and The Four Tops I'll Be There hissing out from the tannoy. The turnstile itself provided a challenge. What a strange obstacle for a five year old to negotiate! Walking past the tea bar, up the steps to see a small strip of grass through legs. The higher on the steps more green becomes visible until reaching the top then looking down on a great big strip of grass....and it was paradise. Football matches had a specific aroma in those days. The unique smell of bovril cigar smoke and anxiety. A moody autumn sky added to the morose demeanour. A childs mind is unhindered by critical faculties. When our players emerged each one of them held God like status. OK, some were no doubt better players than others, but just wearing our red & white stripes secured my affection. However, there is still room for a special one. Mine was our blonde bombshell Jimmy Greenhoff. I've seen better players (though not many) but it was Jimmy who opened the window, through which I gleefully climbed, to open my heart and mind to the possibilities of the greatest game on earth. Jimmy dominated my early football watching career. Sitting on the wall in the Butler Street Paddock and Jimmy moves to a wide position. The first time in my life I felt awestruck. The great Jimmy Greenhoff was a matter of feet away from me. Being in the park with my brother and dad practising Jimmy volleys. And a blistering one against Leeds winning us a cracking game. (By Jimmy not by us in the park!) Sadly, I also remember crying on a Saturday morning in December 1976 when dad showed me the back of the Daily Mirror and it displayed the unthinkable news. Greenhoff had gone to Man Yoo. He didn't want to leave us. Betrayed by Stoke City Football Club. That news indelibly stamped a cynical edge in my mind. Seven is too young to endure heartbreak as deep as that. The next game I sort of expected him to be playing for us. Stoke City without Jimmy? Impossible. The next game I expected him to be there as usual. But gone he was...to win the FA Cup as we got relegated. For all the heartbreak attached to supporting a football club, would we really want things any other way? Surely the glory of the great moments is exacerbated by their rarity. When we see gloryhunters we resent what they symbolise. Soulless empty mercenaries bathing in tepid reflected glory which is riddled with poison. Could the brigade of parasites who attach themselves to a football club by way of a bedspread feel the warmth I feel when I reflect on my infatuation with Jimmy? The pride and passion we feel for our team is something few of us would really want to change. And, I'm sure like many of you reading this, I'm so glad I grew up loving that great big strip of grass. Quite surreal ... Joe this afternoon I picked my Mrs. up from Manchester airport (she'd been away in Ibiza for a few days) and whilst we were travelling home, 'I'll Be There' came on the radio ... I explained to her, that whenever I heard this record it always reminded me of my very first taste of the Boothen End - I didn't get there for the first time until a few weeks after you but boy I know exactly what you're talking about. Lovely post fella. |
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Post by PotterLog on Oct 1, 2010 1:37:33 GMT
November 2nd 1974. Infancy about to experience one of the defining moments of an entire life. For the first time approaching the Victoria Ground, clinging to dads hand and The Four Tops I'll Be There hissing out from the tannoy. The turnstile itself provided a challenge. What a strange obstacle for a five year old to negotiate! Walking past the tea bar, up the steps to see a small strip of grass through legs. The higher on the steps more green becomes visible until reaching the top then looking down on a great big strip of grass....and it was paradise. Football matches had a specific aroma in those days. The unique smell of bovril cigar smoke and anxiety. A moody autumn sky added to the morose demeanour. A childs mind is unhindered by critical faculties. When our players emerged each one of them held God like status. OK, some were no doubt better players than others, but just wearing our red & white stripes secured my affection. However, there is still room for a special one. Mine was our blonde bombshell Jimmy Greenhoff. I've seen better players (though not many) but it was Jimmy who opened the window, through which I gleefully climbed, to open my heart and mind to the possibilities of the greatest game on earth. Jimmy dominated my early football watching career. Sitting on the wall in the Butler Street Paddock and Jimmy moves to a wide position. The first time in my life I felt awestruck. The great Jimmy Greenhoff was a matter of feet away from me. Being in the park with my brother and dad practising Jimmy volleys. And a blistering one against Leeds winning us a cracking game. (By Jimmy not by us in the park!) Sadly, I also remember crying on a Saturday morning in December 1976 when dad showed me the back of the Daily Mirror and it displayed the unthinkable news. Greenhoff had gone to Man Yoo. He didn't want to leave us. Betrayed by Stoke City Football Club. That news indelibly stamped a cynical edge in my mind. Seven is too young to endure heartbreak as deep as that. The next game I sort of expected him to be playing for us. Stoke City without Jimmy? Impossible. The next game I expected him to be there as usual. But gone he was...to win the FA Cup as we got relegated. For all the heartbreak attached to supporting a football club, would we really want things any other way? Surely the glory of the great moments is exacerbated by their rarity. When we see gloryhunters we resent what they symbolise. Soulless empty mercenaries bathing in tepid reflected glory which is riddled with poison. Could the brigade of parasites who attach themselves to a football club by way of a bedspread feel the warmth I feel when I reflect on my infatuation with Jimmy? The pride and passion we feel for our team is something few of us would really want to change. And, I'm sure like many of you reading this, I'm so glad I grew up loving that great big strip of grass. Fantastic post Joe. |
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Post by JoeinOz on Oct 1, 2010 1:40:09 GMT
I remember in about 1975 standing on the old Stoke end and Rhinestone Cowboy being on the tannoy!!
The thing is the smell. Cigar smoke and bovril. It was always overcast and never sunny.
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Post by Paul Spencer on Oct 1, 2010 1:43:14 GMT
Just for old times sake ... I can smell the bovril now:  |
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Post by JoeinOz on Oct 1, 2010 1:53:29 GMT
I can't see embedded clips. Can you post the URL please Paul?
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Post by PotterLog on Oct 1, 2010 2:43:35 GMT
I can't see embedded clips. Can you post the URL please Paul? |
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Post by vancouverstokie on Oct 1, 2010 4:51:39 GMT
1980 If I remember rightly .Stood in the Boothen Paddock with me Uncle , Crook's first game back after joining Spurs ,
We lost that day 3-2 but I was hooked there and then ,a young Fox , Heathy ,Chapman, Bracwell , Hampton , Ursam,whot a side we had back then ! Spurs came with Ossy n Villa that day,Thank God Stoke where at home that day as me Uncle would go to watch who ever was at home that Satueday , or I'd be all excited at been top of a very crap leauge at the moment But the good times are back and we'r back up where we belong in the top leauge
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Post by PotterLog on Oct 1, 2010 5:21:09 GMT
1980 If I remember rightly .Stood in the Boothen Paddock with me Uncle , Crook's first game back after joining Spurs , We lost that day 3-2 but I was hooked there and then ,a young Fox , Heathy ,Chapman, Bracwell , Hampton , Ursam,whot a side we had back then ! Spurs came with Ossy n Villa that day,Thank God Stoke where at home that day as me Uncle would go to watch who ever was at home that Satueday , or I'd be all excited at been top of a very crap leauge at the moment But the good times are back and we'r back up where we belong in the top leauge On the plus side, "vancouvervaliant" would have had a bit more of a ring to it... |
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Post by ihaveadream on Oct 1, 2010 12:20:57 GMT
I remember in about 1975 standing on the old Stoke end and Rhinestone Cowboy being on the tannoy!! The thing is the smell. Cigar smoke and bovril. It was always overcast and never sunny. Layla by Derek and the Dominoes (aka Eric Clapton) was on the tannoy just before my first game. |
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jamesblock26
Youth Player
Block 26 resident Shikari fan
Posts: 308
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Post by jamesblock26 on Oct 1, 2010 12:22:48 GMT
think mine was against luton or lincon, can't quite remember i was young at the time, do remember it was a 2-1 win for the potters though |
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Post by Deleted on Oct 1, 2010 13:49:36 GMT
November 2nd 1974. Infancy about to experience one of the defining moments of an entire life. For the first time approaching the Victoria Ground, clinging to dads hand and The Four Tops I'll Be There hissing out from the tannoy. The turnstile itself provided a challenge. What a strange obstacle for a five year old to negotiate! Walking past the tea bar, up the steps to see a small strip of grass through legs. The higher on the steps more green becomes visible until reaching the top then looking down on a great big strip of grass....and it was paradise. Football matches had a specific aroma in those days. The unique smell of bovril cigar smoke and anxiety. A moody autumn sky added to the morose demeanour. A childs mind is unhindered by critical faculties. When our players emerged each one of them held God like status. OK, some were no doubt better players than others, but just wearing our red & white stripes secured my affection. However, there is still room for a special one. Mine was our blonde bombshell Jimmy Greenhoff. I've seen better players (though not many) but it was Jimmy who opened the window, through which I gleefully climbed, to open my heart and mind to the possibilities of the greatest game on earth. Jimmy dominated my early football watching career. Sitting on the wall in the Butler Street Paddock and Jimmy moves to a wide position. The first time in my life I felt awestruck. The great Jimmy Greenhoff was a matter of feet away from me. Being in the park with my brother and dad practising Jimmy volleys. And a blistering one against Leeds winning us a cracking game. (By Jimmy not by us in the park!) Sadly, I also remember crying on a Saturday morning in December 1976 when dad showed me the back of the Daily Mirror and it displayed the unthinkable news. Greenhoff had gone to Man Yoo. He didn't want to leave us. Betrayed by Stoke City Football Club. That news indelibly stamped a cynical edge in my mind. Seven is too young to endure heartbreak as deep as that. The next game I sort of expected him to be playing for us. Stoke City without Jimmy? Impossible. The next game I expected him to be there as usual. But gone he was...to win the FA Cup as we got relegated. For all the heartbreak attached to supporting a football club, would we really want things any other way? Surely the glory of the great moments is exacerbated by their rarity. When we see gloryhunters we resent what they symbolise. Soulless empty mercenaries bathing in tepid reflected glory which is riddled with poison. Could the brigade of parasites who attach themselves to a football club by way of a bedspread feel the warmth I feel when I reflect on my infatuation with Jimmy? The pride and passion we feel for our team is something few of us would really want to change. And, I'm sure like many of you reading this, I'm so glad I grew up loving that great big strip of grass. you should be a writer  |
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Post by wigginbird on Oct 1, 2010 14:10:19 GMT
Stoke v Birmingham jan 1988 3-1 to Stoke, crowd just over 10000, was in the family section, Stoke End upper tier , went with a friend and his dad
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Post by BraveSirRobin on Oct 1, 2010 14:14:23 GMT
Stoke vs Shrewsbury '85 or 86'.........won 1-0.......Saunders I think!
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Post by stokeontrent72 on Oct 1, 2010 14:53:05 GMT
August 1979 a 1-1 draw with Swansea in the league cup!
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Post by Kjones9 on Oct 1, 2010 15:05:15 GMT
October 1996 a 1 - 1 draw with the arse in the league cup.
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Post by mumph on Oct 1, 2010 15:12:46 GMT
Dad says that he took me to Stoke when I was about 3 or 4 - back of the old Butler Street - that'd be '71. I don't know - apparently I was most interested in the half time pie and going to sleep on his shoulders. One game versus Villa they came out early to warm up - used to seeing Stoke appear in red and white he says I saw Villa come on in claret & blue - bugger around for 5 minutes and then trudge off and I promptly burst into tears thinking Stoke weren't going to appear at all.
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Post by grayscfc on Oct 1, 2010 15:24:43 GMT
september 25 1991 - my 18th birthday and we drew 2-2 with stockport, my mate dragged me down as i was`nt really THAT into footy but fuck me, after my 1st game i was a stoke-addict. cheers paul, you`ve cost me a fortune since that 1st match but it`s mostly been worth it!!!
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Post by sophie96 on Oct 1, 2010 15:39:31 GMT
I am new to this country and to football games and my first game was Stoke City and Fulham recently when Stoke City won. I hope to see more Stoke City games before I go back home to Italy.
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Post by annagram on Oct 1, 2010 19:12:36 GMT
My first Stoke game was in....we'll that's the problem can't remember the year! The Game was against Chelsea and I believe the score was 5-3 to Stoke ( I remember clearly a woman shouting behind me...we want 6).
I begged my Dad to take me back to the ground the next day and saw Gordon Banks training with the young players and Garth Crooks was there. Gordon Banks signed my Rosette and I still have it to this day. The next match I saw was Stoke V Liverpool (can't remember the score) However, I do remember seeing Kevin Keegan play for Liverpool. I remember this very specifically because he had a perm. I remember my Dad saying 'wanker' first time I heard him swear. Anyone help with the details?
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log
Lads'n'Dads
Posts: 63
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Post by log on Oct 1, 2010 19:44:38 GMT
Can't remember the date,early 80's i think,Stoke 5 West ham 2 i think was the score,Chamberlain was definately playing,i do remember that much |
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Post by LH_SCFC on Oct 1, 2010 19:50:25 GMT
I also fell asleep at my first game - I was the tender age of 3 though.
English Division 2 (old): Stoke City 1-1 Swindon Town
5th May 1990 (I had to look that bit up...)
I blame my Dad for everything - he drummed it into me at an early age and now it causes me to spend all of my hard-earned cash and arguments with my missus for never seeing her on a Saturday.
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SneydRanger
Academy Starlet
We'll be with you
Posts: 136
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Post by SneydRanger on Oct 1, 2010 20:46:37 GMT
1975 -76
One nil v Middlesbrough at he Vale
Grandad who was Vale fan took me - stuck me at front of Lorne street and I spent all game checking he was still behind me
First visit to Vic the season after v Liverpool on Easter Monday
On Boothen and could not see a thing!
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Post by longtonstokie on Oct 1, 2010 21:15:46 GMT
Showing my age now, My first game was Dennis Violetts Testimonial in 1967, I was 11 at the time.
We played the England world cup winning side and lost 5 - 7. I asked my dad who did not like football to take me that night, I knew he would say no, so went on my own and I knew I would be in trouble if he found out.
It was a brilliant night, the vic was packed and at the end of the game it seemed like everyone was on the pitch, I ran on and got as close to Dennis as I could, Got back home, my dad was at the pub so went straight to bed thinking wow! I got away with it, what a night.
The next night the sentinel came through the letterbox, my dad was first to it as usual and like any man goes straight to the back page, the next thing I know I'm getting a right clip round the earhole. Why? well some kind sentinel photographer had took my photo along with hundreds of others while we were leaving the pitch.
i'll never forget that night and Stoke City has been in my blood ever since, The photographer actually did me a favour, It made my dad think and he took me to the next home match Man City at home where we won 3-0
Longton.
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