CHAOS - Too. Week N

Norwich City (H) – Saturday 31st October 2009

Most, if not all, of you will know by now that my other half is originally from Norwich and, as a result, supports the Canaries. You may also know from the Yearbook (for the small minority of you who have bothered to purchase one – hint) that our wedding reception took place there thanks to some last minute heroics from Delia.

So, when County were promoted to League 1 in 2008, and when Norwich got relegated from the Championship the season after, there was much excitement in the Sandy household for the forthcoming 2009/2010 campaign.

What’s more, the fixture list had been kind to us – pitting us at home on a Saturday in October and away on Easter Monday.

As we approached the home tie, I received an e-mail from my wife’s Uncle to ask which pub we would be frequenting pre-match. With him being a pub owner (in London) himself, I did not think anything of this request and informed him we’d be trekking down the hill to the Crown. After all, the in-laws all like a drop of real ale and, for me, that’s the pub to go to.

On the day of the match myself, a by-now-pregnant Mrs Sandy (although it wasn’t common knowledge by then), my brother, a friend of mine (let’s call him Tim because... well, that’s his name) and an assortment of in-laws, made our way towards the pub. As we did so, I advised those in yellow and green shirts that, whilst we had no history with their club and The Crown is friendly enough, they might want to do their jackets up to avoid getting turned away at the door.

I needn’t have feared. Well, not for their safety at least. Whilst the Crown was unusually heaving (all other visits before and since having involved a total of no more than 10 people in the entire pub), it was in fact yellow and green as far as the eye could see.

Finding a table among the Canary masses once we’d managed to get some drinks, I explained that it wasn’t usually this busy and, with the pub being away from the ground, I was surprised the Norwich fans knew about it.

“Ah, that might have had something to do with me” explained Mrs Sandy’s uncle. It turns out that he is part of ‘Capital Canaries’ – a London based Norwich fans group who now actually hold their meetings at his pub in Islington - and he had sent messages round to various members that this was the pub to go to. Capital Canaries had then decided to hold their AGM that day in the pub. Even David McNally (Director of the club) was there.

Almost as soon as he had explained this, and as I peered out of the window at the front of the pub, a large car pulled up and out got Delia and her husband.

“Oh yeah, I might have mentioned it to her too.”

As I’ve explained elsewhere in my tale about our wedding reception, I have a lot of time for Delia and had met her a couple of times before this day, but she wouldn’t remember me of course so it was a nice surprise when she by-passed all the Norwich fans eager for a photo with her (this was before ‘selfies’ had been invented you understand) and headed straight to me – the only blue shirt she could see in the crowded pub. She was keen to learn about our administration and wish us all the best for the future. If I’d know what the next few years were going to bring, I’d have marched her to the nearest ATM there and then.

So, to the match itself. As you’ll have gathered by now, I’m rubbish at remembering games, let alone writing about them, but we obviously lost 3-1. My abiding memory, however, is that shortly after the second half had started, I received a text from my other half, who was sat in the Railway End sunshine, to enquire about whether my mate (who we’ll call Tim) had in fact fallen asleep. Mrs Sandy knew where we were in UT2 having sat with me on a few occasions in the past, and even from the Railway End she could see poor Tim half slumped in his seat (the last one before the steps between UT2 and UT3) from the pre-match boozing. He was, in all truth, just moments away from rolling down the steps towards the lower tier.

Shame on me, as I was sat directly next to him and hadn’t even noticed. It was only when I read the text that it dawned on me that the weird noise in the Cheadle End was in fact Tim’s snoring.

Norwich City (A) – Monday 5th April 2010

A few months later and off we went to Carrow Road for the return fixture, again in glorious sunshine.

Two things continue to amuse me and tickle me even now. But enough of what my wife and I get up to in our private time, let’s focus on the match.

No, seriously, two events stand out in the memory. The first was pre-match. Mrs Sandy had enjoyed the pre-match hospitality as part of her Uncle’s ‘posh seats’ at the ground where you’re treated to a three course meal and drinks before kick-off. I’ve been myself a few times and it’s fantastic. As part of the package, you’re given a complimentary programme and since there were 4 of them at the table, and they didn’t all need/want one, she decided to bring one to me as we were sat in the same stand as her but at the other end (the County fans having been given a small cordoned off area at the end of the Jarrold Stand.

As she approached myself, my friend (who again we’ll call Tim) and two others – plus the remainder of the 180 or so fans who had made the trip – a steward stood in front of her and blocked her path.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“To give this to my husband”

“I can’t allow you to mix with the away fans I’m afraid.”

Bear in mind Sandy Jnr was born just one month later, so my good lady resembled something of the Orca by this stage and was bordering on tetchy as a result.

“How much f**king trouble do you think a heavily pregnant woman is going to create you moron?”

I decided to come over and grab the programme to diffuse the situation before she launched herself at him, and we quickly went our separate ways before he had chance to object further.... or get battered to death by a hormonal woman.

The second amusing memory was a chant started by someone just behind us part way through the first half. When County had conceded early on in the game, and bearing in mind our respective league positions by this point in the season, we feared another drubbing, but miraculously County equalised not long after.

Then, if memory serves about 10 minutes into the game, we had another rare break and shot well over the bar.

Cue the chanting from the Barclay End to our right: “That’s why you’re going down, that’s why you’re going down....” Imaginative, no?

Barely seconds later, someone behind us stood up and began bellowing: “You’re so sh*t we scored a goal, yoooouuu’re so sh*t we scored a goal” quickly joined by the rest of our small 180-odd gathering.

This amused the Norwich fans enormously who gave us a generous round of applause.

Despite the result, this was my favourite visit to Carrow Road ever, and God knows I’ve been a fair bit. The only other time that came close was the following season when Norwich hosted Burnley and I was again treated to the ‘posh seats’. It’s fair to say that most of the people around me, including Dion Dublin and Darren Huckerby who were sat together just behind us, were wondering why a Norwich fan was displaying such a vocal and vitriolic hatred of those in Claret and Blue. I must have forgotten where I was. Damn you complimentary wine.....