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Standing in the centre of Belfast, outside a ginormous JJB store, chanting Wigan’s Wigan’s number one to a ginormous picture of Roy Carroll in his NI kit.
Falling out with the wife on Easter Monday; having a silent breakfast then saying I’m going out for a paper; only to return 10 hours later when she interrogated me saying “I thought you were only going out for a paper”; at which point I threw the Hartlepool reporter on the table. Think we won 2-1 and I had amazing fish and chips in Settle on’t way home !
Telling Green Vigo ( a big time Wigan Egg chaser player ) that rugby was shit, at the bus stop opposite the Hind’s Head in Wrightington; and that the Latics were the best team in Wigan,
Border Carlisle firm jumpin’ young Martin Horsfield on’t pop side at Springy; the me and HORC sorted enm out.
Sprinting up Wigan after final whistle, to go and watch the footy results in’t telly shop window ( near to JJ Bradburns ); then some sharp suited salesman switch’in them off. one by one, with a big smirk on his face ! Bastard.
Coppers confiscating our Doc Martins before the Stafford Rangers game; then giving us a raffle ticket numder, so we could collect them after the final whistle.
Football today is so sterile, I don’t think the Yoof of today will enjoy the same broad range of experiences and fun that we did !
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