Ive got to say reading all this has been, well fcukin mint! Bloody memories, I cant remember who we played in the first game at RP, but went with my father and Uncle Eddie, round to the club shop, Eddie bought me a scarf, into the supporters association to sort my card out, including picture. (remember those) The programne was black and white with some piped red perhaps, Micky Horswill was on the cover running sideways looking at the camara. What i do know, we won and couldnt believe the roar. The noise and crowd on the roker end, Im sure it was 73/74.
April 24th 1976, Bolton, my first game on my own, slipped out of my grans on the qt, with 3 scarves packed into a bag one for either side of my jeans for each belt loop, and one for my wrist, over to RP, paid into the Roker end, stood at the back scared as fcuk, (i was 10) Old fella turned round and said "yees wanna gan down the front"? "Aye" "Can yes stand like a soldier to attention" "Aye mister" "come here" He stuffs my scarves in my pockets, picks me up and shouts "bairn comin ower" and was passed over the heads from the top of the Roker to the bottom. Ended up behind the goal, a lasting memory was towers slotting the ball past Siddall.
My family moved south, to Bradord then Sheffield in the early years, my Father worked for Jackson the tailor so getting to games bloody difficult and very rare, but every holiday i came up to my Grans who lived in the Flats over the road from the pit ( Now the SOL ) and i was sent programes down by a smashing bloke called Ian Stephenson, git tall fella (he seamed it at the time ) with a bushy beared, he worked at Roker park, part of the ground staff. I was given the ok to walk round the ground 5 days a week, it was a treat to go in the day after a match and sweep the stands, the bloody money you found, you were supposed to put it in a big whisky bottle in there cabin, but i didnt i spent it all at the club shop. Saw Bozo Bokata ( i know his names spelled wrong) having his photo taken with a red and white scarf, the transfer never came off, got his autograph too still got it somewhere. Later i prized Ken Knightons plastic name plac of his seat in the directors seating area, sanded the jagged edges down to a smooth finish on the walls walking back to my grans, still got it somewhere. Bad fcuker me like
but Ian was a smashing fella.
Like everyone had plenty of scrapes along the way met some great lads too, the old Leeds Branch, Geordie Mark, Maky Mark, Glen whos dad was the best turnstyle op at Roker. Neal what a bloody driver, coming back from a night match in what i think was a little Fiat, could be a ride at Alton Towers. Another lad who ive lost touch with, Paul Fechan, grand lad.
Many more storys of scrapes and laughs, heart ache and tears and why? because we are Sunlun! and proud! Dont start me on the pre match savaloy dips like.
Great thread, what the SMB should be like.