Watching with the excitement of the long distance fan

This post was written by exiled Blade Giacomo Squintani a couple of months ago at my request. I wanted something that would tell what it is like to follow the Blades from afar, with only rare live viewings, hanging on the words on social media, fan forums and the briefest of highlights on The Football League Show.

You could say that Giacomo was lucky. He doesn't get dragged down by the week in week out performances and results. You could argue that in terms of the game he attended he was lucky, but going into the second leg at Swindon, maybe we need to approach it with the excitement of a long distance fan and realise that, like at Giacomo's game, a surprise can happen. Anything can happen.

Photo Copyright : Sam Cunliffe

Valentine’s Day. That commercial creation designed at shifting flowers, chocolates, cards… perennial source of teenage embarrassment and adult whinging (it’s always too much or too little, isn’t it?)… A right waste of money!

I solved the problem by proposing to the now Mrs S on February 12 (2005, that is). That way we have our own anniversary and don’t have to faff around with any of that malarkey. It also means that, when the fixtures threw up United at Ashton Gate on February  14, it was never going to be a challenge to secure a pass!

Ian has kindly invited me to jot down some thoughts about the day, from the perspective of an exiled Blade. Because, having made the mistake of leaving Sheffield for a second time in 1998, following my initial extradition (aged six weeks) to Italy in 1976, that’s what I am. When Saturday comes, I follow the rituals via Twitter: the pilgrimage, the hydration, the build-up inside the ground… rituals I remember well. Rituals by which I could once set my watch: whatever the weather, whatever the traffic, they always seemed to take place at the same time. Just like, regardless of the length of the Bible passages and the sermons, handshakes and communion seem to when Sunday comes.

But it’s different when you’re a lapsed stadium-goer. When Bramall Lane is 178 miles away, yet Ashton Gate is just eleven, but still you’re only going to cover that distance to watch Dem Blades. You no longer go through the rituals automatically: you need to think about your order of service and work out those milestones. And, if you’re me, odds are you’ll get them wrong.

I cautiously caught a bus just before 1pm, a time not dissimilar to the one when my late Grandfather would have turned the key and set the car in motion along Sharrow Vale Road. But back then we had to find a parking place, walk over and allow chatting time with the familiar faces. Here, it’s a five-minute walk from the bus stop to Ashton Gate, not being Mourinho I had no bus to park… so I found myself in Bedminster with what felt like an age to spare. Took a lengthy wander around Greville Smyth Park, finding time to sit on a bench for my first instalment of homemade sarnies… and eventually the time felt right to walk through the gates.

Ever the fashion guru, I was sporting my black-and-red 1997 AVEC sweater. It’s a good dozen years younger than the green polo I wore when Ian and I first met up in 2013, after all! But there was never any danger of aggro: like it or not, I could easily have blended in with the locals, most of them seemingly turning to red and white scarves. Having never seen that much white on Bristol City shirts, I did occasionally wonder whether we’d taken over Bristol. But such thoughts were… premature.

As I took my place in the Atyeo stand, I recognised a few people. Don’t ask me for names: but quite a few faces looked familiar. I must have seen them at The Lane, maybe outside the ground or maybe in the proximity of one Michael D. Rooker, or on the road. All I knew is that I’d seen them. And suddenly I felt at home. Because, for one day a year, the accent in BS3 sounds… local.

I know I’m preaching to the choir here, but even infidels will concede that ‘The Greasy Chip Butty Song’ is one of the finest, its blend of pride, passion, history, humour and self-mockery quintessentially Sheffield and quintessentially United. I could be anywhere on this planet singing it out loud with fellow Blades and I’d feel at home. Bedminster was no exception… and then we were off!

For a detailed match report, read here. My abridged version:

1. Down 1-0 at the break: unlucky.

2. Didn’t panic, kept playing football. Done looked quality.

3. Were denied a penalty shortly before Done’s equaliser.

4. Deservedly went 2-1 up as City never really increased the pressure as you’d expect the League leaders to do at home.

5. Jamie Murphy to seal it in the 82’ minute. 3-1. Three points. Job’s a good’un. And Done IS quality.

Not being able to drive and living in the UK’s largest town without a train station, away games are a rarity for me. Which is a shame, given my track record in recent years (with Wembley obviously not counting as ‘Away’):

25/04/2011: back from 2-0 down to end a disastrous away record under Micky Adams by winning 3-2 at Reading. A truly bonkers experience.

05/05/2012: 2-2 at Exeter: not quite the party that a few weeks earlier we thought it might have been.

23/11/2013: Roberto’s first (and, so far, only) game – and we nicked it 1-0 at Ashton Gate

Sincere apologies to the faithful Blades who travel up and down this country in weather far worse than we had in Bristol a few weeks back, for whom the elation of Ashton Gate is a rare feeling… that’s ten points from four for me! And we’d all but won in Exeter, but that would have been the most pointless win ever…

During the second half at Ashton Gate I’d got talking to the Blade next to me. He was a fellow exile, having driven up from Yeovil. Beyond the spoken words, there was a silent appreciation of this rare privilege of watching The Blades, accompanied by the chagrin that it was indeed a rarity. Least that’s how it felt for me: maybe he was just wondering what the traffic home was going to be like. I should have asked.

At the final whistle, having set off at that leisurely, post-match place, I made a run for the bus stop. There was an orderly queue: in fact, there were about three. Not quite sure if I joined the right one to secure one of the four available standing places, with some of the many home fans who’d left ahead of the final whistle having got on earlier to but fill the bus: but I got on there alright. I’d earnt the right to leave a few Robins behind. Well, Dem Blades had won it for me. Lots of red and white on the bus back to Portishead, but I was the only one smiling! And I duly celebrated with my second lot of sarnies. That’s how I roll.

No post-match pint(s) for me: best part of an hour on a bus, two minute walk to my front door and quickly got ready to go to dinner at friends’. I kept on my 125^th shirt, but it was lost on them, neither big on football. Ah well.

So, there you go: some thoughts from an exiled Blade. A Blade who grew up in exile, in Italy, returning to Sheffield in 1994 only to leave a second time in 1998. My first departure was justifiable enough: my parents lived in Italy and clearly thought that I should grow up with them, Mum only having travelled back to God’s Own County to deliver me unto an unsuspecting world. But second time round… that was a mistake, and one that I look back upon every day. A mistake greatly influenced by an uncle’s passing comment that I should leave Sheffield for London upon graduating: I always regret not giving job-hunting in Sheffield a month or two. 

Driving back from Exeter in May 2012, that same uncle suggested I shouldn’t try to run a 10k, that it would be too much for me: and, as some of you may know, that’s one piece of advice I ignored. Had I done so first time round I’d probably have been a season ticket holder for almost two decades by now! As it stands, I have to make do with a couple of games a season. And I don’t just miss The Blades: I miss the whole experience, each and every ritual. Which is why, whisper it quietly…

…I would never begrudge my sons becoming Bristol City supporters. Just like United is my hometown club, City is theirs. So, whilst part of me hopes they keep wearing their Blades kits for the rest of their lives, I won’t deny there’s a part of me that would be happy for them to develop their own matchday rituals with their own friends and to live them out at least once a fortnight. Is that sacrilege? At least the scarves would look right…

So, Valentine’s Day 2015… how was yours?

Mine began with a 5k personal best (where I overtook a Bristol City fan late on to set the tone for the day!), ended with a nice meal with friends and featured a surprising (well I was!) but wholeheartedly convincing win at Ashton Gate. Good football, made the League leaders look like some frustratingly inconsistent side: so yes, true role reversal. If for just one afternoon. As I told my wife, it was the best Valentine’s Day of my life. 

A Gallon Glass Half Full of Magnet

In the past four years of putting my thoughts out to the world I have, at several points in time, been accused of being negative. It goes with the territory. Fans are clappers or slashers, there is very little middle ground in these categorisations.

There have been times where I would suggest that it wasn't so much me being negative as taking a questioning approach to events. I am a strong believer in not taking all at face value and ensuring that you dig below the surface a little. All that glitters ain't gold and what people want you to perceive and think may be quite different from the ultimate reality. 

This approach can be applied everywhere, but it is never more important than in football. You only have to look at events at clubs elsewhere and a short distance across the city to see why. Looking closer to home there have been several chancers and crooks in the Bramall Lane boardroom, some who claimed to be fans, now on the run or having served custodial sentences.

It is true that I have a glass half empty approach, my thirty odd years of attending the Lane have provided more disappointment than joy. I often try and manage my expectations and play down our chances. That way, if and when success comes, it feels all the better. Does that make me negative? Maybe. I prefer cautious.

But this season is different. When asked for predictions for United's final league position by When Saturday Comes and World Soccer, I have responded with "Automatic places". Yes, I have predicted Top 2.

As a result I am currently sat rocking in the corner, back and forth, to and fro. My head involuntarily shaking from side to side. A stiff brandy is being poured for my consumption. My wife's just got me a doctor's appointment. I am sure there must be some medication to help with this mental torture.

I am tapping these words out on the laptop keyboard as a form of written absolution for my brazen optimism and the unease I am experiencing as I deal with these alien feelings. So here is my train of thought....

Whilst many complain that the starting eleven is weaker, I disagree. It appears weaker in parts, a view skewed by positive memories of players who have left and loanees who haven't returned, but it is stronger in positions that matter. In any case, those perceived weaknesses may well be dismissed once players bed in. Who is not to say that with a stronger midfield we might not need a Brayford bombing on from right back and that Alcock will do a perfectly good job? Who can say whether McGahey might be a better all round central defender than Maguire? Therefore why think negatively?

The midfield has plenty of options and with McNulty and Higton no one can claim our forward options are not enhanced. Some may question whether they will score the goals required, but having a proper striker down the middle is more likely to bring other players into play and we should see more goal-put from Murphy, Flynn, Scougall, Baxter et al as a result. The squad is more capable and has a depth we lacked last season, with promising youngsters such as Reed, Khan and Dimaio who can augment it when required.

There will be pressure and expectation placed on the club by outsiders (thanks to the bookies favourites tag) as well as by fans. The run we went on in the final three months of last season was bound to strengthen belief amongst supporters and yes, kick-starting the season in the same manner will be difficult. The opening game is a great test. Along with PNE I expect Bristol City to be up there with us come May, but a draw or defeat isn't a disaster.

Remember the pleasure taken from our opening night victory over Notts County. The win that night was soon put into context, our reliance on a key player and the relative mediocrity of the opposition becoming apparent.

But this season the division is weaker. I don't see any of the promoted clubs doing a Rotherham. Of those coming down, Doncaster are in disarray and Barnsley don't look like anything to fear. Yeovil will slot back in to League One comfortably, although carry less of the threat, shorn of several key players. Of those that remain, Leyton Orient and Peterborough have lost key players and it will not be the same as last season for them. This season needs to be our time and we will never have a better opportunity.

The biggest factor though. That is faith and trust. In the people running the club and the decisions they are making, not just for the short term of this season, but for the long term future and stability of the club as well.  In the manager and coaching staff. In the way the manager goes about his business and how they handle their players. How they respond to set backs, how they handle the press and how they speak in an open, honest, straight-forward way.

I don't expect everyone to agree with me, or my reasoning. But step up, try and be positive, don't look for the negatives and be United. This could be the start of something good. 

By the way, my predictions are usually pretty good. See the excerpt below from When Saturday Comes' look back to last season's League One preview and what the fans of the 24 clubs thought the final table might look like. I may not have predicted the story en-route, but the final league position wasn't wrong.

Up the Blades!

Interview with Keith Waugh - Part 1 (Black Cat goes Posh)

In the latest of my interviews with former Blades heroes I have spoken to a player from a slightly earlier era to those that I have spoken to before. He joined United as the club was at its lowest ebb and played a key role in the team’s immediate revival. As United won the 4^th Division title, goalkeeper Keith Waugh played all bar one league game earning the respect of his fellow players and being chosen for the PFA Divisional Team of the Season.

His career also took in spells at Peterborough United, Bristol City, Coventry City and Watford and garnered league and cup medals alongside Wembley success.

 

 

As his twitter username (@blackcatkw) suggests, Keith is a big Sunderland fan. Growing up in the city and representing Durham Schoolboys.

"The county borders differed back then! I played local school football and progressed to county football. I did well for Durham and I was invited to international trials for England schoolboys. Sadly I didn't make it. However I was noticed by my home town club. I signed schoolboy forms with Sunderland and then as an apprentice at Sunderland in the summer of 1973, just as I left school at 16. As you can imagine it was a terrific time to join the club, a poignant time for Sunderland fans, on the back of the Cup final victory over Leeds."

As a regular at Roker Park prior to signing, I ask if he made it to Wembley to support his team?

"Yes, I got two tickets through being associated with the club. It was quite strange as my mum and her family were all Sunderland fans, whilst my dad and his family were all Newcastle supporters. It was fun growing up in my family, I can tell you. I actually took my dad to Wembley with my spare ticket and my mum and all the rest of her family queued for tickets at Roker."

It was a family influence that led to Keith being a goalkeeper.

"Well my dad had always played in goal in local football and I heard his stories of being a keeper and so I naturally followed in his footsteps. Watching Sunderland as a lad I idolised Jim Montgomery, he was my hero and I tried to model myself on Monty. Then when I joined the club he was the goalkeeper"

“My strength was shot stopping, I was known for having good reactions. I guess my weakness was commanding my area and dealing with high balls. The criticism for this bugged me at the time; I’m not that bad I used to think. People always had an opinion and as a keeper you worked on all aspects of your game, but when one mistake can prove fatal that sets people’s viewpoint.”

 

 

Sadly, Keith never made a breakthrough at Sunderland.

"I mainly played junior and reserve team, football. I was always going to struggle to knock a club legend like Jim out of the team. I was released at 19 and in reality I could have no arguments about it. When Bob Stokoe told me I felt hurt by it, but I could see it was probably for the best at my age. It was very sad, I always wanted to play for my hometown club, but sometimes you have to move on to progress your career."

It was a big time in a young player's career and Keith was facing a career defining decision about what to do next.

"I was facing the likelihood of moving away from home and integrating into a new club. That was assuming I would find a club, something I was a bit concerned about. I was 19, without any first team experience. My name was circulated and I was lucky enough to go for talks at one or two clubs; Crewe and Grimsby. I was travelling back on the train from Blundell Park and I called my mum from Doncaster Station. "You haven’t signed anything have you?" she asked. "Because Peterborough are interested and would like to meet you." I got back home and met with Posh Assistant Manager John Barnwell at a Newcastle hotel where we discussed future plans. I then went down to meet Noel Cantwell, who was in charge at London Road. I felt comfortable with them and so I signed.”

This was the summer of 1976 and Peterborough were then in the old 3rd Division.

"I loved the set-up at London Road and immediately felt comfortable. Eric Steele - now coach at Manchester United - was the goalkeeper at the time and was reasonably well established. It was my job to work hard and try and put pressure on him for his place and see how things would progress."

In the end, Keith didn't have to wait long for his opportunity and it went nearly as well as he could have hoped, apart from the score line.

“It was mid-October 1976 and we had conceded 6 at Preston North End on the Saturday. In the week after the Preston game Noel Cantwell approached me to say I was going to make my debut the following Saturday, away at Brighton & Hove Albion. It was incredibly exciting and a potentially tough match, as Brighton were top of Division 3 at that time and I think they had scored 7 the week before."

"It was a bit worried, thinking about making my debut against a team doing so well, when we were having a bit of a hard time. I remember it feeling so different, I was used to playing in large football grounds, but they were usually empty for youth and reserve team matches. The Goldstone Ground was a proper, old fashioned football ground, large banks of terracing on several sides. I think the crowd was around 20,000 and they generated a great atmosphere. The other thing that sticks in the memory is the distinct smell of a football stadium."

"I was extremely excited going on to the pitch and didn't really feel the nerves. I felt that I had a decent, steady game and despite our 1-0 defeat I got decent write ups in the match reports. It was a good introduction to league football. I was in the team and it was up to me to keep my place. I got a great lift from my performance and I didn't want to lose the feeling. I wanted to forge a career as a professional footballer."

 

 

Keith successfully established himself in the first team at London Road and went on to spend 5 years there.

"After a couple of seasons I was linked with moves. I think Ipswich (then under Bobby Robson) and Tottenham had reportedly been watching me. It was great to hear yourself linked with big clubs, but you never knew if anything was going to come from it."

"In my final season at Posh we had a successful cup run, reaching the FA Cup 5th round where we lost 1-0 to Manchester City, who eventually lost to Spurs in the replay in the final thanks to Ricky Villa. It was a full house at London Road, a cracking atmosphere. I guess that increased exposure, at what was then a 4th Division club, helped raise my profile further."

With Keith coming to the end of his contract a call from old Sunderland team-mate Ian Porterfield led to a move to Bramall Lane.

“Ian knew me from my days at Sunderland and had just taken over as manager (United had suffered final day relegation and entered the 4th Division for the first time in their history) and I had a call from him inviting me down for talks. I felt at home straight away, arriving at Bramall Lane and thinking "Phwoar! This is for me!" I’d been linked with 1st Division clubs, but everything about the place said anything but 4th Division; the infrastructure, the support, the team that was being built and I was really bought into Ian's plans to take the club back to the top. I thought here was a club who I could go up through the leagues with. I had no hesitation in signing."

Porterfield had been given an unprecedented 10 year contract by Chairman Reg Brealey, who was keen to see his impressive on/off pitch plans come to fruition. United had a large number of players from the North East in the team at the time and this helped Keith settle.

“It helps you settle and bond as a team. There was a strong Sunderland connection as well – thanks to Ian Porterfield’s recruitment. Mick Henderson, Kevin Arnott, Joe Bolton and John McPhail were all in the squad. John played with me at Bristol City and I still see him occasionally when I go to Sunderland matches.” 

In Part 2, we talk about successful and disappointing times with the Blades and Wembley success with Bristol City.