mjb2
Lads'n'Dads
Posts: 79
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Post by mjb2 on Jan 18, 2020 18:01:27 GMT
Totally agree with somerset stokie
I began watching in 1957 so the habit is well engrained in my (red n white) blood. Though I loved the Vic and somehow there felt an important part of the equation, I have also seen some wonderful games at the Brit. The game has declined as entertainment but it the wastefulness of the last few years which is hardest to take plus a large number of over-paid players who clearly do not care.
I have been a season ticket holder for many years but doubt I will renew---regardless of which division we are in.
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Post by Deleted on Jan 18, 2020 18:11:01 GMT
I guess at 58 (first game in 75 at the age of 13) I fit the criteria
Removing the racism and violence from the equation, thankfully and imho this is what you get. The whole match day experience from deciding to go to the game, paying to get in, watching the game and the environment you do that and the whole cost is way worse now than it was then. Sadly.
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shooters
Youth Player
POTTER POWER
Posts: 474
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Post by shooters on Jan 18, 2020 18:31:51 GMT
I don't think i'll get a better moment in my life than wembley way, in front of the bobby moore statue before the FA cup final with brothers giant stoke flag across us - dad/the grandad, brothers, sons, nephews.. it'll be hard to get a better feeling of hope and pride than that moment...think any promotion will do it and if its to the prem again that will top running onto the pitch with brother v leicester and then turning to dad in the seddon stands with a look of disbelief.
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Post by loosestools on Jan 18, 2020 18:52:34 GMT
Ah,those good old days, Stoke being a warzone, ground literally falling down,we even had proper diseases like ricketts and scurvy, you had to work down the pits or 600 hours a week on a roasting hot pot bank to make ends meet,Jimmy saville, strikes, flares, how I miss them days. I was so passionate I got 'Club foot'
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Post by Deleted on Jan 18, 2020 18:52:41 GMT
I don't think i'll get a better moment in my life than wembley way, in front of the bobby moore statue before the FA cup final with brothers giant stoke flag across us - dad/the grandad, brothers, sons, nephews.. it'll be hard to get a better feeling of hope and pride than that moment...think any promotion will do it and if its to the prem again that will top running onto the pitch with brother v leicester and then turning to dad in the seddon stands with a look of disbelief. Well I enjoyed the League Cup Final (obviously), but having my two sons with me, when the cup was lifted against Stockport (The Autoglass Trophy), was special. I was holding my eldest son up, so that he could see the lifting of the cup, and a total stranger grabbed my youngest son, and held him up, so that he could see. All at the old Wembley - they haven't forgotten that moment either. And what glorious weather we had on the day also!
I know that it was only a minor cup, but what a day it was! We took up a large proportion of Wembley Stadium. Red and white balloons floating all down the M6 and M1. A big sign at Jct 15 saying "Would the last one to leave please turn out the lights".
On the return journey, people on bridges waving and clapping. We all had our scarves flying out of the car windows.
Shortly after that day, the "Lads and Dads" had their presentation day, at Holden Lane School. Foxy and Alan Dodd were both there. I can tell you that the team enjoyed that day as much as all of us. Good times - times when playing for The Potters actually meant something to the players.
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Post by Vadiation_Ribe on Jan 18, 2020 19:16:14 GMT
That's the attitude that didn't get us promoted last season. I disagree. We didn’t get promoter because we’re run by a bunch of useless bastards. Nothing to with the attitude of fans. Despite the thread title, I took "we" to mean the club as a whole, including the players.
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Post by bayernoatcake on Jan 18, 2020 19:21:05 GMT
I disagree. We didn’t get promoter because we’re run by a bunch of useless bastards. Nothing to with the attitude of fans. Despite the thread title, I took "we" to mean the club as a whole, including the players. I meant from the fans as that what the thread is on about as the title suggests
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shooters
Youth Player
POTTER POWER
Posts: 474
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Post by shooters on Jan 18, 2020 19:27:19 GMT
I don't think i'll get a better moment in my life than wembley way, in front of the bobby moore statue before the FA cup final with brothers giant stoke flag across us - dad/the grandad, brothers, sons, nephews.. it'll be hard to get a better feeling of hope and pride than that moment...think any promotion will do it and if its to the prem again that will top running onto the pitch with brother v leicester and then turning to dad in the seddon stands with a look of disbelief. Well I enjoyed the League Cup Final (obviously), but having my two sons with me, when the cup was lifted against Stockport (The Autoglass Trophy), was special. I was holding my eldest son up, so that he could see the lifting of the cup, and a total stranger grabbed my youngest son, and held him up, so that he could see. All at the old Wembley - they haven't forgotten that moment either. And what glorious weather we had on the day also! I know that it was only a minor cup, but what a day it was! We took up a large proportion of Wembley Stadium. Red and white balloons floating all down the M6 and M1. A big sign at Jct 15 saying "Would the last one to leave please turn out the lights". On the return journey, people on bridges waving and clapping. We all had our scarves flying out of the car windows. Shortly after that day, the "Lads and Dads" had their presentation day, at Holden Lane School. Foxy and Alan Dodd were both there. I can tell you that the team enjoyed that day as much as all of us. Good times - times when playing for The Potters actually meant something to the players.
Yes, Autoglass was a great day. Had a similar father/son experience with my sons first game v bolton in semi. at the time he moaned at me for lifting him up in the air for every goal. His second game was the final. Hopefully they never go from that high all the way to the lows we have experienced.
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Post by somersetstokie on Jan 19, 2020 17:40:48 GMT
Thinking some more about this, the "modern" audience has grown up to accept over thought tactical football that is generally reprentative of rehearsed training ground routines, particulary as regards positional play and set piece execution. Clubs play to planned systems and often wait for an opposing team to make a mistake that can be capitalized upon, rather than taking the initiative and attacking the game. You start the game with one point and at least try to ensure that you keep it. Players today, no matter how talented, are overcoached and taught to play to the system. A player performs to suit the system and is expected to play for the team.
When I was of the younger generation, watching the football of the day, a lot of what was on view was hard and uncompromising, but we always had the probability of seeing players who were characters and played to their own rules. These were the mavericks of the game and were often worth the entry fee on their own. They were not necessarily always the forwards and midfield stars, but defending was very often its own art form, practised by hard men like Ron Harris and Dennis Smith. The extremes came at the attacking end when creative tricksters like Rodney Marsh and Stan Bowles would defy the coaching manual and try to beat 2 or 3 players just for fun, or to prove that they could do it. These guys had creativity, talent and cheek and were the showman stars that lit up the game.
The same principles apply in cricket. It can still be a studious tactical controlled game, or "Chess on Grass" but who wouldn't want to see an Ian Botham, or today, a Ben Stokes, take a game by the scruff of the neck and impose their character on the match. Sport needs its eccentrics and geniuses to keep all those fans involved.
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Post by ursemboys on Jan 19, 2020 18:15:13 GMT
Ahhh! The good old days. Playing in air raid shelters, marl holes, the tanks in Apedale. Fishing for sticklebacks, collecting frog spawn, catching newts. Getting in to the Vic free, when the big gates were opened about half past 4 and watching the last quarter of the game. A ground with hardly any adverts, freezing cold (that hasn't changed), breathing other people's exhaled smoke, watching the half-time scores being put out by hand, standing wherever you wanted. Watching proper tackles, ballet on a mud patch, and listening to cries of "Waddington out!" in the late 60s. The thrill of buying Greenhoff, bringing back "Big John", Banksy, Smithy, Bluto, Conroy charging down the wing like a startled gazelle, rounded off by Huddy. FA Cup semis, League Cup victory, 5th place finishes. Yes there is a generation gap and I feel sorry for the younger generation. I feel like I'm paying for it now. I am guessing your a chessy lad by your quotes mrcoke lol same has me
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Post by estima1972 on Jan 20, 2020 7:00:08 GMT
Since starting out supporting Stoke in 1978, despite the ups and downs, for me, it built in to a great crescendo until the day we left the Vic. Immediately, it became more awkward to get to the match. I had on occasion, walked from Goldenhill to the Vic such as a Boxing Day with no buses. I could not envisage walking to the new stadium, or indeed, have the want to. Admittedly, since the move from the Vic, it took me about ten years before I set foot in the new ground and it was a more disappointing experience than I could have ever imagined; soulless, lifeless, sterile, uncomfortable, incomplete and devoid of the smells that made the Vic familiar surroundings. No longer could I get a bus directly to Stoke town centre and enjoy a couple of pints in several pubs before the game.
Not only have I lost touch with going to matches, I've lost touch with football generally. Before the year 2000, I could have told you the name of the ground of every league club and who the manager was. Not a chance these days. If I thought I knew the name of a ground, chances are it's changed since last week through sponsorship. I used to love visiting the old grounds, watching Stoke away at far flung places like Roots Hall. I used to go to every home reserve match which was free because of your season ticket. I miss going to the club shop at the Stoke end, often bumping in to players as they milled around the ground, racing Nigel Gleghorn and Toddy Orlygsonn around the one way system on the way home from an away game.
What are we left with? Heat maps, VAR, strategic planning, going to the game replaced by "matchday experience", coloured boots, sponsorship overload and even the fans discussing FFP. The whole analysis thing is tedious. Someone sat in a studio with the benefit of seeing everything in super slow motion from a billion angles, trying to tell us where it all went wrong. The players are in the heat of a game; they can't always be filling every position that analyst thinks they should have been in.
The whole thing is like watching chess on grass, whilst behind it all, there's a giant game of monopoly with juggling finances. Having a hotel on Mayfair is like having someone taking over your club with endless finances. The whole thing is just sterile in the main.
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Post by madmickthe3rd on Jan 20, 2020 7:49:52 GMT
I am probably, no definitely, suffering from old fart syndrome these days as it all seemed so much better back in my day at the Vic!
Why do I say this? Well other than ripping Man City a new one a few years back, I have built up no real, special, lasting memories of my match days at The Brit. The match day experience has no real consistency anymore as I do not have a season ticket and so end up in a different seat every time I attend, sat next to people who I do not know and who I, probably, will never see again.
Memories though from the Vic are as crisp today as they were at the time
1) Drinking in the smoke filled PMT club, watching bus conductors gamble away their mornings fare takings on plentiful and well attended card tables.
2) The walk to the ground with the expectation growing as you got closer and that slight air of aggression if you saw supporters of the other team!
3) Paddling through gallons of piss on the floor in the Boothen bogs and almost gagging on the smell of fresh piss mingling with the rotting piss of two weeks ago. Were those bogs ever cleaned?
4) Seeing the fag smoke swirling through the floodlights at a night match.
5) Standing with the same people every week, sharing their despair and occasional bouts of sheer joy and the knowing what it really meant to have a 'man cuddle' if we scored.
6) Watching the groundsman running around the pitch to retrieve the ball if it got kicked over the Butler street stand ( insert the names of any of the numerous donkey strikers who were very capable of doing this)
7) Crowds of 7 or 8 k to watch a mid week 0-0 bore draw with Oldham or somebody similar, and vowing never to attend again, but you always succumbed!
8) George Berry dancing for the crowd when we sang his name, and joining us on the Boothen at his testimonial.
9) Players on that balcony thing, left of the Boothen End, acknowledging the crowd if we spotted them and sang their name ( Jimmy Greenhoff in particular ), usually sat with their WAG of the day who wasn't an over processed, false titted, bottoxed to the hilt bimbo, she was just a regular girl from the local area ( ok ok I will give you that one, it's a better type of WAG these days! )
10) The occasional attempt by the away fans to infiltrate the Boothen, every time resulting in our finest 'very politely' showing them the exit, and the regular post match punch ups outside the Vic pub on the corner.
11) The old boy ( I think he has sadly passed away now ) outside selling the Evening Sentinel " sent null finulllll"
The list is endless. As I say I'm the first to admit I'm probably suffering from old fart syndrome these days but I have none of these memories from the Brit and after 20 plus years of us being there I don't think I ever will now. Promotion day excepted I guess.
Eventually, as nature takes it's natural course, our fan base will inevitably be 100% made up of people who have only ever known The Brit, The Bet 365, The Huawei or whatever, it may be called in the future, and the memories of The Vic will be of myth and Legend only, as passed down from father to son! Sad really.
Splendid!
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Post by daveandeddy on Jan 20, 2020 12:59:39 GMT
Football as a kid.... In the seventies it meant getting up at 9.00 and having a kickabout on the fields bottom of Rochester Road with the lads we were going to the ground with... Every volley we were Greenhoff.... every header - Ritchie. Me I was a goalie so I was Banksie. At 1.00 to 1.30 walking down line-side and past the lido getting to the match at about 2.15-2.30. Queuing up and paying our 20p to get into the Boothen End and picking our spot to stand... When the game kicked off joining in the songs..... In the Liverpool slums..... Give me a C .. give me an I.... Sing up in the paddocks.... Weve got the best team in the land..... We hate Nottingham Forest - we hate Chelsea too... but City we love you. Calling the ref the bastard in the black ... I even remember throwing a comb at Phil Parkes ... Score and you ended up about 6 rows in front of where you were standing.
Football as a dad.... Picking my lad up at 1.30 now and parking where Pork Farms used to be ... Walking down Stanley Matthews way as penance for my hard living ( and open heart surgery!) Getting to the ground about 15 mins before kick off and chatting to other fans who sit nearby -- same place every game. Miming to most of the songs now! ( only kidding - I always lose my voice at some point of the game )
No comparison between the 2 BUT would I not go? Behave....... The narrative may change but the love goes on for ever. Come on you rip roaring reds tonight.
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Post by danceswithclams on Jan 20, 2020 13:13:19 GMT
I remember when this was all fields.
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Post by baystokie on Jan 20, 2020 17:33:35 GMT
Starting in the 40s - Walk to ground from Heron cross Never certain of the team that would turn out - programme (3d!) helped but changes made over tannoy Engrossed for 45 minutes (mingled with delight or despair depending on who scored) 10 minutes for tea and crisps (brought with me) Engrossed for 45 minutes (see above) Walk home Never thought of slitting throat (or anyone else's) over team's performance, hoping for better next game. Maybe caught 5 minute report on Sports Report No suffering from local radio drivel or online media waffle Could express opinions with mates without having parentage or intelligence challenged Switched off till next game and got on with more important life issues Glad I was able to treat the whole charade as a 'game' that was just another 'entertainment' and didn't matter too much.
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Post by madmickthe3rd on Jan 20, 2020 17:44:50 GMT
Starting in the 40s - Walk to ground from Heron cross Never certain of the team that would turn out - programme (3d!) helped but changes made over tannoy Engrossed for 45 minutes (mingled with delight or despair depending on who scored) 10 minutes for tea and crisps (brought with me) Engrossed for 45 minutes (see above) Walk home Never thought of slitting throat (or anyone else's) over team's performance, hoping for better next game. Maybe caught 5 minute report on Sports Report No suffering from local radio drivel or online media waffle Could express opinions with mates without having parentage or intelligence challenged Switched off till next game and got on with more important life issues Glad I was able to treat the whole charade as a 'game' that was just another 'entertainment' and didn't matter too much. Nicely put mate! Just exactly how it should be.
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Post by wagsastokie on Jan 20, 2020 18:29:28 GMT
Since starting out supporting Stoke in 1978, despite the ups and downs, for me, it built in to a great crescendo until the day we left the Vic. Immediately, it became more awkward to get to the match. I had on occasion, walked from Goldenhill to the Vic such as a Boxing Day with no buses. I could not envisage walking to the new stadium, or indeed, have the want to. Admittedly, since the move from the Vic, it took me about ten years before I set foot in the new ground and it was a more disappointing experience than I could have ever imagined; soulless, lifeless, sterile, uncomfortable, incomplete and devoid of the smells that made the Vic familiar surroundings. No longer could I get a bus directly to Stoke town centre and enjoy a couple of pints in several pubs before the game. Not only have I lost touch with going to matches, I've lost touch with football generally. Before the year 2000, I could have told you the name of the ground of every league club and who the manager was. Not a chance these days. If I thought I knew the name of a ground, chances are it's changed since last week through sponsorship. I used to love visiting the old grounds, watching Stoke away at far flung places like Roots Hall. I used to go to every home reserve match which was free because of your season ticket. I miss going to the club shop at the Stoke end, often bumping in to players as they milled around the ground, racing Nigel Gleghorn and Toddy Orlygsonn around the one way system on the way home from an away game. What are we left with? Heat maps, VAR, strategic planning, going to the game replaced by "matchday experience", coloured boots, sponsorship overload and even the fans discussing FFP. The whole analysis thing is tedious. Someone sat in a studio with the benefit of seeing everything in super slow motion from a billion angles, trying to tell us where it all went wrong. The players are in the heat of a game; they can't always be filling every position that analyst thinks they should have been in. The whole thing is like watching chess on grass, whilst behind it all, there's a giant game of monopoly with juggling finances. Having a hotel on Mayfair is like having someone taking over your club with endless finances. The whole thing is just sterile in the main. Roots Hall the coldest I've ever been at a football game All though not a Stoke game Early eighties woke up bored shitless thought I'll go to the footie Purused the paper and for some reason chose Southend Peterborough Got off the train in Southend and the wind hit me within minutes I was shaking like a shiting dog Even bought fish and chips just to keep my hands warm The pitch would have done dancing on ice proud Sand all over the goalmouths to give the keepers something softer to land on It finished 1-1 missed both goals as the roughly twenty of us in the away end were busy hiding behind the front wall to avoid the sideways blizzard Even when you went for a piss you got snowed on as the piss house was only four walls no roof Looking back cracking day out
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