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What is meant by 'cages' then. I assumed it was some kind of wire mesh type fencing from floor to roof ???

Was it just that they were 'pens' which you couldn't transfer out of once in ??

One guy said there were 5 of them ??

Any old pictures anywhere ??

Cheers.

They were just pens from what I can recall, two fences about 5 ft high running down the Fulwell from back to front. There was a gate at the top and two at the front. We used to climb ower them when the coppers weren't looking.
 


Lasting memories:-

The Notts. County deluge classic
Chico Hamilton's headed winner in the 4-3 classic - cue mass hysteria
The entrance wall at Blackpool almost giving way under the strain of our thronging masses
A few daft lads among the fifty odd Sunderland away presence at Preston who set fire to the poxy wooden stand - Tuesday might match in which a sole S.A.F.C fan caused mayhem in their end. And it wasn't the Bear. Might have been daft Jimmy.
Dancing around surrounded by evil smelling skunks when Rowell completed his hat trick. The scenes at that petrol station outside resembling something post nuclear hollocaust
That awful August day c1977 when we foolishly decided to visit the Bridge on our way back from the States. Total and inexcusable neanderthal behaviour culminating in the infamous "ambush at the Bridge" mounted policemen dragged off their horses to protect our minority of travelling supporters and promptly pummelled with their own truncheons as they fell to the ground. Scenes of total bedlum as battles raged in private gardens. Reinforcements arrived and cowered in telephone boxes.In particular, one "brave" superintendent bedecked with honorific regalia informed me as I bled profusely from the mouth, "You Geordie bastards shouldn't have come down here, should you?" He then closed the door and ducked. Wherever you turned there was no haven. For us, a Moordale coach driver drove us to the realtive safety of Acton hospital where a doctor reiterated the superintendent's views. How I later spent eight years of my life in London remains a mystery.
Our cup night out in Burnley and "Pip's" insistence on driving into a motorway service station through the exit and via the top of a roundabout thus provoking the ire of the watching Rochdale constabulary. How you jammed a lift, Stubber, only you will know. Scary and me foolishly trudged off into the lightly falling snow as Stubber disappears on a passing truck. Meanwhile we went back to the rossers office to help "Pip" count the coins the doctor had placed before him. Yes, he was still arseholed.
The Steels Club Stoke adventure, the endless vomiting, the stench in the aisles and the subsequent breakdown of the coach?? outside of all places "The Unicorn Hotel" in Stockport which provided kindly after hours service. The barmaid looked at us dubiously as we paid for the rounds with pennies we'd located somewhere on the bar. Erghum. Pop Robson put us through in the replay.
Two nasty nights in Manchester. Although the Bob Lee dance at a rather murky Old Trafford raised our spirits the match at City was marred by a duffer getting his head broken by a flying brick from the Kippaxe, a big buck nigger smashing in the back window of the lone Sunderland coach and the running of the gauntlet in an attempt to get back on the said vehicle. Whatever became of the few brave souls who decided to stock up at the offie? Mel missed a sitter I seem to recall.
The craic was first class, the rivalry bordering on the evil, whilst the games themselves seemed exciting at the time but were possibly eminently forgetable. What was far better were the characters on show both on the pitch and on the terraces which contributed largely to our idea of entertainment.
 
Lasting memories:-

The Notts. County deluge classic
Chico Hamilton's headed winner in the 4-3 classic - cue mass hysteria
The entrance wall at Blackpool almost giving way under the strain of our thronging masses
A few daft lads among the fifty odd Sunderland away presence at Preston who set fire to the poxy wooden stand - Tuesday might match in which a sole S.A.F.C fan caused mayhem in their end. And it wasn't the Bear. Might have been daft Jimmy.
Dancing around surrounded by evil smelling skunks when Rowell completed his hat trick. The scenes at that petrol station outside resembling something post nuclear hollocaust
That awful August day c1977 when we foolishly decided to visit the Bridge on our way back from the States. Total and inexcusable neanderthal behaviour culminating in the infamous "ambush at the Bridge" mounted policemen dragged off their horses to protect our minority of travelling supporters and promptly pummelled with their own truncheons as they fell to the ground. Scenes of total bedlum as battles raged in private gardens. Reinforcements arrived and cowered in telephone boxes.In particular, one "brave" superintendent bedecked with honorific regalia informed me as I bled profusely from the mouth, "You Geordie bastards shouldn't have come down here, should you?" He then closed the door and ducked. Wherever you turned there was no haven. For us, a Moordale coach driver drove us to the realtive safety of Acton hospital where a doctor reiterated the superintendent's views. How I later spent eight years of my life in London remains a mystery.
Our cup night out in Burnley and "Pip's" insistence on driving into a motorway service station through the exit and via the top of a roundabout thus provoking the ire of the watching Rochdale constabulary. How you jammed a lift, Stubber, only you will know. Scary and me foolishly trudged off into the lightly falling snow as Stubber disappears on a passing truck. Meanwhile we went back to the rossers office to help "Pip" count the coins the doctor had placed before him. Yes, he was still arseholed.
The Steels Club Stoke adventure, the endless vomiting, the stench in the aisles and the subsequent breakdown of the coach?? outside of all places "The Unicorn Hotel" in Stockport which provided kindly after hours service. The barmaid looked at us dubiously as we paid for the rounds with pennies we'd located somewhere on the bar. Erghum. Pop Robson put us through in the replay.
Two nasty nights in Manchester. Although the Bob Lee dance at a rather murky Old Trafford raised our spirits the match at City was marred by a duffer getting his head broken by a flying brick from the Kippaxe, a big buck nigger smashing in the back window of the lone Sunderland coach and the running of the gauntlet in an attempt to get back on the said vehicle. Whatever became of the few brave souls who decided to stock up at the offie? Mel missed a sitter I seem to recall.
The craic was first class, the rivalry bordering on the evil, whilst the games themselves seemed exciting at the time but were possibly eminently forgetable. What was far better were the characters on show both on the pitch and on the terraces which contributed largely to our idea of entertainment.


Now thats a phrase i haven't heard for years. Reminds me of being back down the pit.
 
My best season was in 1988/89 wehn we had the g force, good attacking entertaining footy.

Bloody hell mahn, that was a truly dreadful season. All I remember of it is the optimisim of the previous seasons promotions, the 'attack' scoreboard being introduced, the new 'hummel' strip. The opening day v Bournemouth and then downhill from there. Gates & Gabbers were at a low peek and Whitehurst was brought in. The minutes silences against Stoke, for the two lads that crashed on the way back from a midweek game at Oxford. The low crowds when we languished midtable towards the end of the season, Hillsbrough & the Hillsborough service we had at Roker Park prior to the Shrewsbury game IMSC. The only high point was a 4-1 away win against Plymouth (so only 6-700 of our fans witnessed it), played on the Sunday between Chsrtmas & new year IMSC.

Terrible season allround.
 
Bloody hell mahn, that was a truly dreadful season. All I remember of it is the optimisim of the previous seasons promotions, the 'attack' scoreboard being introduced, the new 'hummel' strip. The opening day v Bournemouth and then downhill from there. Gates & Gabbers were at a low peek and Whitehurst was brought in. The minutes silences against Stoke, for the two lads that crashed on the way back from a midweek game at Oxford. The low crowds when we languished midtable towards the end of the season, Hillsbrough & the Hillsborough service we had at Roker Park prior to the Shrewsbury game IMSC. The only high point was a 4-1 away win against Plymouth (so only 6-700 of our fans witnessed it), played on the Sunday between Chsrtmas & new year IMSC.

Terrible season allround.

Agree - that was a pretty boring season of consolidation following the Div 3 promotion.

I remember:

0-0 in evening League Cup game at Bootham Crescent. We turned up mid-afternoon for a day on the piss. Nearly all the pubs were shut before the game because of the pitch invasion that had occurred the previous season - ended up supping in a restaurant!

Beating Leeds at home midweek 2-1 - Whitehurst got the winner. Not a big crowd, but a pretty evil atmosphere inside.

The minutes silence at the Stoke game as mentioned above for the Sunderland fans coming back from Oxford - also in that game (a 1-1 draw), Steve Doyle scored 1 of his 2 Sunderland goals in 4 seasons - an absolute corker at the Roker End.

Beating Barnsley 1-0 on Boxing day - the bumper crowd of the time was around 20-25k.

Going to Elland Road in the February for the 0-2 defeat (and Norman saved a penalty). About 8,000 SAFC there. Walking back to Leeds station completely lost in those shitepit estates between ground and station. Getting off at Darlo on the way back and almost getting filled in by some of our 'lunatic fringe' who presumed we were 'Darlo fans':roll:

Season tailed off radically after that
 
Bloody hell mahn, that was a truly dreadful season. All I remember of it is the optimisim of the previous seasons promotions, the 'attack' scoreboard being introduced, the new 'hummel' strip. The opening day v Bournemouth and then downhill from there. Gates & Gabbers were at a low peek and Whitehurst was brought in. The minutes silences against Stoke, for the two lads that crashed on the way back from a midweek game at Oxford. The low crowds when we languished midtable towards the end of the season, Hillsbrough & the Hillsborough service we had at Roker Park prior to the Shrewsbury game IMSC. The only high point was a 4-1 away win against Plymouth (so only 6-700 of our fans witnessed it), played on the Sunday between Chsrtmas & new year IMSC.

Terrible season allround.

It was the 92 cup game that 3 of them died on the way to (don't mean to be pedantic):-(
 
They were just pens from what I can recall, two fences about 5 ft high running down the Fulwell from back to front. There was a gate at the top and two at the front. We used to climb ower them when the coppers weren't looking.

I think you mean what used to be the season ticket enclosure in the fulwell directly behind the goal,me and my old man used to stand their £4 adult £2 kids:eek: back in the sixties
 
It was the 92 cup game that 3 of them died on the way to (don't mean to be pedantic):-(

Might have been the early 60's some SAFC fans who were pushing their broken down coach in fog were crushed by a lorry?

Lasting memories:-

A few daft lads among the fifty odd Sunderland away presence at Preston who set fire to the poxy wooden stand - Tuesday might match in which a sole S.A.F.C fan caused mayhem in their end. And it wasn't the Bear. Might have been daft Jimmy.

If it was 1974ish when Bobby Charlton was in charge, there was more than 50 fans there - the Vauxie bus was overbooked and I hitched it with Sammy Smith - got a lift back on a Washington mini-bus. Daft Jimmy?

Yes, and the Sunday Sun next day showed the weapons found at the back of the Fulwell - they put them on display 2 pasting tables and the weaponry was frightening.

The Fulwell was there and was almost sick at the sight of all the casulaties being carted out with blood all owa the place as Sunderland tried to retake the Fulwell End.

Probably the nastiest day ever seen at RP.

It was the Front page of the Daily Mirror and printed before the game which ramped up the tension - the weapons were thrown over the wall by a group of lads in R&W scarfs who jumped off the Newcastle train at Boldon Colliery.

The blood was mainly from sharpened pennies raining down on Sunlun from the Mags at the middle and back of the Fulwell.

Could have been the previous encounter when Sunlun took the Leazes and were singing "You'll never take the Fulwell'"
 
Might have been the early 60's some SAFC fans who were pushing their broken down coach in fog were crushed by a lorry?



If it was 1974ish when Bobby Charlton was in charge, there was more than 50 fans there - the Vauxie bus was overbooked and I hitched it with Sammy Smith - got a lift back on a Washington mini-bus. Daft Jimmy?



It was the Front page of the Daily Mirror and printed before the game which ramped up the tension - the weapons were thrown over the wall by a group of lads in R&W scarfs who jumped off the Newcastle train at Boldon Colliery.

The blood was mainly from sharpened pennies raining down on Sunlun from the Mags at the middle and back of the Fulwell.

Could have been the previous encounter when Sunlun took the Leazes and were singing "You'll never take the Fulwell'"
Can't remember his surname. Quite spindly but not to be tampered with. If you recall those back to back games with Sheff. Wed you may have witnessed the aforementioned lad standing at a barrier behind the Wednesday mob in the Roker and raining hockle on them for about half an hour. A few nasty insults were exchanged before Jimmy decided enough was enough and started wading into them single handed, telling us to mind the barrier. He did the same with the Leeds fans when they were parading that daft cardboard cup. Come to think of it he probably invented windmilling. :)
 
Can't remember his surname. Quite spindly but not to be tampered with. If you recall those back to back games with Sheff. Wed you may have witnessed the aforementioned lad standing at a barrier behind the Wednesday mob in the Roker and raining hockle on them for about half an hour. A few nasty insults were exchanged before Jimmy decided enough was enough and started wading into them single handed, telling us to mind the barrier. He did the same with the Leeds fans when they were parading that daft cardboard cup. Come to think of it he probably invented windmilling. :)

I remember the Sheff Wed fans parked up down by the Blockyard, spraying all the walls with 'the Owls', their leader was a Black skinhead called Hubert? and the running battles.
 
Can't remember his surname. Quite spindly but not to be tampered with. If you recall those back to back games with Sheff. Wed you may have witnessed the aforementioned lad standing at a barrier behind the Wednesday mob in the Roker and raining hockle on them for about half an hour. A few nasty insults were exchanged before Jimmy decided enough was enough and started wading into them single handed, telling us to mind the barrier. He did the same with the Leeds fans when they were parading that daft cardboard cup. Come to think of it he probably invented windmilling. :)
I once got invited onto one of those football telly programmes that nee one ever watched and afterwards got drinking in a bar with a Leeds and Arsenal fan who had been on the same programme (it was in London after we got hammered 0 v 5 off Arsenal at Highbury when Suker scored that hellish chip).

the Leeds fan started telling me about the trip they had to Sunderland when, as they were nearing the City one of the younger Leeds fans had asked the bigger lads what the craic was about smashing the place up. :eek:

Anyway apparently their older lads just laughed and told the younguns that they werent at Bournemouth now. It was obvious that the Leeds lad knew that Sunderland wasnt really the place to start taking liberties.
 
from what i can remember, my mates and me went to the match and were not involved in any bother apart from myself, disgracefully, hoying a snooker chalk at shilton one night

i still prefer those days from now by a long way. totally priced out now
 
The blood was mainly from sharpened pennies raining down on Sunlun from the Mags at the middle and back of the Fulwell.

QUOTE]


and a full set of snooker balls aimed at the mags with precision!!!
 
I remember back in the early 80s going to Leeds away. I went down on a National Express coach from Durham the day before cos I was going to a gig at the Uni . When I was near the ground there was loads of Sunderland fans being escorted by the police and they started shouting at me cos I had a mohawk ( I wasnt a weekend punk like some ), anyhow I didnt have a Sunderland shirt on so they thought I was one of the locals, chanting "Yorkshire scum " and I was laughing about it and shouting back " hadaway and bollocks man ", which annoyed them more cos they thought I was taking the piss !!

happy days like

true story anarl
 
I remember back in the early 80s going to Leeds away. I went down on a National Express coach from Durham the day before cos I was going to a gig at the Uni . When I was near the ground there was loads of Sunderland fans being escorted by the police and they started shouting at me cos I had a mohawk ( I wasnt a weekend punk like some ), anyhow I didnt have a Sunderland shirt on so they thought I was one of the locals, chanting "Yorkshire scum " and I was laughing about it and shouting back " hadaway and bollocks man ", which annoyed them more cos they thought I was taking the piss !!

happy days like

true story anarl


Leeds always enjoyed the time at ER, even managed to get some trouble with them in the 73 final,goading them all they way up the road as two coppers stood in between lads kept crossing the road to have a go and be sent back over to their fans, this happened for a good 35-40 minutes was still in the days when it was mostly blokes looking for bother going to games, punks skinhead sueadheads that sort. From then on it always seemed to kick off with leeds and sunderland would regularly take coaches down for trouble the redhouse coach would be the one to be on back in the day full of nutjubs,The lad who runs the peterlee branch buses now i think was also a bus to go on in the day.

Even to this day if sunderland play the likes of leeds again a good few hundred lads would want to be out for them as proved in 2001 when the Leeds lot wouldn't even come out of the ground as a fair few were waiting for them.


Early 1970s is when sunderland regularly went to boro looking for it always used to get into the main boro end early and stay there the whole game,baring in mind that f***ing yard you had to walk through you had to be in number 50+ to go through there and still did not feel safe. although the battle of bootboy ally which was real lads going for it not the pavement dancers that dance around in stone island these days. Boro were a very game bunch back in the day and i hold the uppermost respect for their lads.
 
It was the 92 cup game that 3 of them died on the way to (don't mean to be pedantic):-(

Must be a different incident you refer to. Definetly two lads, well known lads IMSC, died on the way back from shitty Oxford in '88 & we had a minutes silence the game after against Stoke.
 
Joe Hinnigan scoring to belters in a game. We won 3-2.
Nee idea what year or who against!

The 2 joe Hinnigan goals were in a 3-0 win at home to Coventry in 1981. Cummins got a penalty as well that day. I went to that game, and it was shown on Shoot as well with George Taylor - perhaps footage still exists?

Hinnigan made the news as he got 4 goals in 3 games, of which the above were 2 of them.
 
Didn't Leeds and Sunderland team up against the Mags and Forest at the SOL England International v Turkey?

Leeds were held on the bridge when sunderland were against the mags forest Mansfield ans shrewsbury, up on the old avenue when they came down made me feel 21 again :lol:
 
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