 
 | | I
wanted to write about my club, Stoke City, because they have been a big part of
my life. I've always enjoyed the competitiveness and tribalism which football
engenders in those of us who haven't become too civilized. The whole experience
of attending a game is geared towards one end...to be victorious. Nogger, as Joe
in Oz calls it, is responsible for sublime and sad moments. Victory is sheer
bliss, defeat is utter depression. Victory in absolutely critical games is one
of life's greatest highlight. Witness
the scenes of jubililation at The Millennium Stadium during our recent triumph
over Brentford to regain our place in the first division after an absence of
four years. The memories of that day are of sadness, tearfulness, unbounding
joy, exquisite moments of celebration followed by nail biting tension. Here are
a couple of descriptive narratives of those in our party who attended the
game. The first one is by my dear friend Pmac and the second is self explanatory.
They were both posted on the 'Oatie' board and Gareth Cooper gave them a place
of honour amongst others on our very own footie board.
The first one.
Just
got back home from a wonderful weekend!
Found time to speak on Radio Stoke this morning to a great Stokie,
Denz the broadcaster!
In reality, words cannot capture what we have just been through, yet
there are a few special moments we experienced over this weekend.
From the moment we saw the swelling numbers of coaches on the Brit
Car park at 7:00am on Sat, I knew it was to become something
memorable.
Myself and Nic shared IDEAL company to Cardiff with Old Stokie,
OldStokieson, Tel2U and "Pops" and a dear friend Barbara!
Pulling into a Service Station 1/2 way down, we were greeted by a
sea of bodies in red and white, coaches parked millimeters away from
one another, a great atmosphere, the "Fizz" of cans being
opened and smiling faces all around.
After stocking up nicotine levels to see us through to Cardiff, we
were off again on what was an almighty convoy of Stokies to be proud
of...Big Club???? Too right we are!!
The first glimpse of the Millennium Stadium really sent my
butterflies into overtime, with the hopes that our boys realized
just how big this was and what it meant to our Club....We weren't
going to be let down this time!!
Arriving at the Angel Hotel, there was such a buzz going round.
We had arrangements to meet with some Cardiff "boarders"
you will all know from here over the last Season, namely Wolf,
Armchair Blue, CCFC Blue!
They duly turned up and we squeezed them into the hotel past the
doormen "They're Stokies with us mate" we said...lol!!
It was magnificent to see our "enemies" in the flesh, they
were a fabulous bunch of lads and TRUE Football supporters, I can't
say enough about them....Superb lads, thanks!!! ( I even think that
they may have muttered a few words in the rendition of Delilah,
started by Dobber, in the hotel!!)
When we left for the game, I knew they would be cheering for US, and
after all that has been widely publicized and spoken about Stoke and
Cardiff, these were moments that were unforgettable for me
personally!!
Off we went to join the throng of Stokies and the odd Brentford
supporter to the ground.
Once inside, OldStokieson couldn't resist sprinting up the 1st steps
he came to in order to see the pitch! He flew down them with "Whhhhhooooo,
Gooooaaaarrn" at the top of his voice.
The singer before the game brought tears to our eyes, and I was very
thankful to be there with Old Stokie and his lad to share their
special moment during the great renditions from the superb operatic
voice of the guy that gave us his Delilah at the Brit.
The crowd was gathering, and the sight of Stokies in 3/4 of the
ground was so, so excellent, I could hardly make them out that were
in the top tier opposite us in the South corner of the stands.
We had a great view in the Middle tier, above the half way line, and
felt we could reach out and touch the players.
A magnificent introduction accompanied with fireworks saw our lads
onto the pitch, and the noise (although not up to the Wembley Roar)
was brilliant.
Oh to be a player in front of all that sheer passion!!
A nervous start, followed by THE goal we were waiting for only made
us pray harder to quickly finish them off, running commentaries all
around us, up, down, screaming at the bloody AWFUL officials,
emotions were running a "Fever Pitch"!
The never say die attitude of our lads on Sat gave us glimpses of
what they did to the Ninian Park faithful on that famous Wed night,
and when we grabbed an all be it fortunate second before half time,
it was the FIRST time I could really start to believe the chants
"We..Are..Going up, say We..Are Going UP!"
I saw men, women and children looking upwards for divine
inspiration, just to make sure any hoodoo was eliminated, but they
needn't have bothered... Gudjon Thordarson and HIS team were just
about to sign the book of condolences for another year in the 2nd
Div for Brentford!
No fuss, no frills, just a very strong belief in themselves, and a
few gutsy performances, saw our beloved Stoke City restore pride to
our Club, and the area of Stoke on Trent.
The big score boards said Brentford 0 - Stoke City 2, the clock had
stopped at 90 minutes, and we were in the 5th minute of 3 added on
by the officials when it happened!
Obviously we all went totally MENTAL, and OldStokie reached out with
an immensely contorted face to scream "Keep dreaming the dream
kid. Keep dreaming the effin dream!!"
We stood there, and we cried like babies!
The sheer effort, the sky highs the torturous lows, the dedication
to the cause, the friends we met and now loved, the lads, the City,
the everything, it all went flashing through us in the next 10
minutes. and we stood there and cried like babies!
The better away day experiences, the Mini Midlands Derbies,
the higher attendances, the possibility of challenging for the Prem,
the players who may now want to stay, the safety of the 1st
Division, it all went through us, and we stood there and cried like
babies!!!
OUR LADS....they had done it!
That piece of Silver stood out like a gleaming jewel, and it was
being carried by OUR LADS in Red n White, the clubs associates all
suited up jumping round like kids, the faces of the players, Andy
Cooke "Screaming" into the Cardiff air....
We had done it.. Oh my GOD!!!!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH We had done
it!
A sea of red and white oozed out of the ground, various songs,
disbelief, total disbelief, all sorts!
Flags had gone up from £5.00 to £8.00 and Stokies were buying
them!!. lol! The local inhabitants working in local shops had noses
pressed up against windows, smiling for us, glad to see us all
having a great time. No trouble, no bother, in fact quite the
reverse.
Arriving back to the hotel, having being greeted by one of two very
sporting Brentford lads on the way....nice on Lads, best of luck!,
we soon found ourselves racing to open their huge sash windows to
collectively chant "Super, Super Jim, Super Jim O'Conner"
to our very own James as he ran for his team bus, all wet haired and
suited up! Goarn lad!
The ice on the cake was to see the Team bus leave Cardiff, right
past the Angel Hotel, and THAT jewel of a trophy sat square, slap
bang in the middle of the front window, all the lads doing the arm
jig thing, on their way home, looking foward to much bigger, much
better things!!
THANK YOU STOKE, and also to the Cardiff fans who made the trip to
see us, the players and staff at our club, Cardiff as a City,
brilliant!
And a very special thank you to our dear friends we spent the day
with, we would not have wished for anything more than what we had!
Forever in Football.....
PMac
|
| The
second one.
The
time is around 1pm and I'm stood in the setting of "The Millennium
Stadium" as the PA announcer introduces the next part of our
pre-match entertainment. Some chap then proceeds to blast out some opera
number for 5 minutes that would take me through an array of thoughts and
emotions. Three words into the song, I wrapped my arm around my Fathers
frame and it was at this time that I started to cry as my mind left the
stadium on it's journey back in time.
The first port of call was to my Mum. My dear old Mum. The special lady
that had loved me like a baby from the first time that she saw me. The
lady that had to listen to me as an 8 year old go on about how Crooksy
or Big Bren had won us the game or took me in her arms because we had
lost. The lady that was still the first one to hear how Stoke had done
even though I was 31. The sad thought that my Mum wouldn't be there when
we got home and I raised my head thanked her for all her love, told her
that I loved her dearly and that if she could, would she have a quick
word with you know who.
I was now crying and smiling at the same time. I turned my head and my
eyes fell upon my Dad, my Best Friend, "me old man". In a
flash we were sitting in the old Butler Street Stand just as the F.A.
Cup game between Stoke and Oldham in 78 was being called of and he's
explaining why we won't get our money back because the buggers had
waited till after half time before abandoning the game. Walking around
the puddles in the car park at the Vic laughing. The buzz as he squeezed
my little hand as we turned into the car park. Barnsley away, reindeer
antlers and Boothen Ender Bill (you just had to be there sorry). Uncle
Joe's mint balls and the way dad and me would laugh as they disappeared
into Billy's mouth at an alarming rate.
I snapped back to real time to catch a tear running down dad's cheek and
wondered if he was thinking the same. I took a deep breath, wiped my
tears away and listened to the music for a second but it wasn't long
before I off again. I looked back towards my dad "MY DAD" and
then my son, back at home with his mum, came rushing into my thoughts. I
started to wonder if Sharon had done what I had asked and put him into
his Stoke shirt for the kick off. Samuel Lee, would he love his dad as
much as I do mine, would he look up to me and hold me in such high
esteem as I do mine, would I be his Best Friend. Sharon, when we first
met and she used to come with me to the footy. Gary Hackett's legs and
how much she used to go on about them. I started to chuckle to myself as
I recalled the sale of Gary Hackett and Sharon's sudden loss of interest
in football.
All of a sudden I felt the grip of my dad around my waist get tighter as
he pulled me close to him as if he was reassuring me and most probably
himself that everything was going to be okay. Macca (PMac) caught my eye
for a second he was looking at OldStokie and me with a smile on his face
as he held Nic and straight away I was transported into Delilah's.
Tel2U and Harold (hoping that they were both ok and had got to their
seats in the ground), Smudge, Paul Nantwich, Dave f, Mark Wolstanton,
Hells Bells, Gareth, and all the other guys what were they doing? How
are they all? Wonder where they all are now!
Macca and his funny ways. How he always says that we are going to lose
before a game and the state that he had got himself into after the home
leg against Cardiff and how I told him to just keep dreaming the dream
until the dream is over and then dream another. Smudge and the line that
will always stay with me "bloody Stoke it's always jam
tomorrow" O how I hoped that it wasn't going to be like that today.
Phil Rawlins and how he had so kindly asked us to join him and friends
for a drink. Phil, Normacot, Dresden, age 7, back to me mum and when she
asked me to go to the shop at the end of Howard Street to get her 10
No.6 with an old £1 note which I let go of by accident and watched in
horror as it blew up onto the roof of Simon Murphy's mums house and how
my mum said that it was ok as I came back in crying.
The music stopped. I looked up to the sky through my tear filled eyes
and wondered if she'd had a word.
I think she did...........
OldStokiesson |
So
there you are....the passions of 'nogger' and all the baggage that goes with
being a Stokie. Long may it remain so. While I'm at it on this
introductory page to my football club, let me just thank one or two people who
have helped me to make this part of my site. First of all, thanks to Paul
Edwards for allowing me to use his stuff on here. Paul is a young Stokie and a
great one too. Thanks also to Smudge of the fanzine, 'The Oatcake' for his help. 'The
Oatcake' is synonymous with all that is 'Stoke City' today. Without doubt, the
best fanzine in the country. Smudge had faith in my writing and printed many
pieces I wrote for him. That in itself was encouraging for me. Rob Stanway of 'FootieMad'
was
also very helpful too regarding technical aspects of this site and he's also a
Stokie, so thanks Rob for your help mate. Gooooaaaarrrrnnnnn
Stoke! Back
to top.
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