|
Post by bringbacklenwhite on Jul 30, 2014 12:57:09 GMT
Néih hóu, ngi ho, nǐ hǎo, nong hao or just hello (depending on which part of China you come from).
Week N of "Chaos - Too" is with us.
Naughty narrations to navigate nimbly and negotiate nervously. Nonsensical, nostalgic notions of notoriety will nudge noble newsworthy notes.
All yours............. fire away !!
|
|
|
Post by sandbachhatter on Jul 30, 2014 13:07:45 GMT
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.....
|
|
|
Post by bringbacklenwhite on Jul 30, 2014 13:43:55 GMT
Brilliant, Sandy.
I think Tim deserves a page of his own when we get to "T".
|
|
|
Post by gazz on Jul 30, 2014 14:08:36 GMT
Fantastic piece, Sandy!
|
|
|
Post by sirroger on Jul 30, 2014 16:21:48 GMT
The N's ( with a touch of poetic licence here and there)
Neil Edwards
Sean Newton Nigel Hart Nigel Smith Shane Nicholson
Norman Sykes Norman Lloyd Neil Bailey
Nicholas Bignall Bob Newton Neil Matthews
|
|
|
Post by Epworth Hatter on Aug 4, 2014 15:16:42 GMT
‘Nil’A simple three letter word which means so much to football fans. It is the aim of every team to have a ‘nil’ next to the opposition name on the scoreboard. A shortening of the latin ‘ nihilum’, meaning ‘nothing’, is exactly what the opposition attackers get. As either a goal keeper or defender for all my time football playing, it is the perfect end to the game: to say to their strikers, ‘you got nothing.’ Of course, at the other end, your team are trying to avoid the dreaded ‘nil’ and to do all you can to score. A team can have the best players and the best substitutes and the best tactics and the best manager – but if they get a ‘nil’ and the other team doesn’t – then who cares? The team name would go down in intonation as Graham Alexander Gordon read it out, and not up. I always remember on a Saturday afternoon listening to Sports Report as we got into the car and drove away from EP or an away ground. 'It’s five o’clock. Time for Sports Report'. After the iconinc music came the wonderful dulcet tones of Graham Alexander Gordon to tell us what had happened elsewhere. This was in the days before smart phones – you either had a small portable radio or you had to wait for Graham. His wonderful intonation would tell you which team had won, lost or drawn by the way he said the team name. It was genuinely exciting listening to the results from the teams around County – had they lost or gained ground? Remember the days when we cared about the results for Wolves or Birmingham or Norwich as they affected our league position? (Well you should do, as Sandy has excellently reminded us of them above!) We don’t need to worry about it these days. The smart phone, the fact that we are now too low down to have our results read out (and that our results rarely matter in the league table) mean that Sports Reports if of less interest. Now it is a case of refreshing the page and following the wonderful Radio Macc. Oh when our results be read out by Charlotte Green, the new encumbent on Sports Report? The other best known uses of the word ‘nil’ is from Eurovision, ‘ nil points’ - meaning ‘no points’ and the phrase, ‘ nil desperandum’ - meaning ‘do not despair’ As a County fans, I think it’s pretty obvious which is more likely to for us.
|
|
|
Post by bringbacklenwhite on Aug 7, 2014 7:50:47 GMT
Due to editorial problems (ie I am going a way for a few days and Mrs Len is firmly in charge) Week N will stay open for another whole week and "O" will commence next Wednesday.
|
|
|
Post by bringbacklenwhite on Aug 13, 2014 13:45:23 GMT
Back to Normality, and it's time for Eppy to select the Mantle of Brilliance owner for Week M.
I will kick off Week O asap !!
See you all there.
|
|
|
Post by Epworth Hatter on Aug 13, 2014 15:16:47 GMT
Erm, a real tricky one this week!
Sandy's entry with the 2 Norwich stories is the only game in town.
Excellent stuff. The fluctuating emotional state of a heavily pregnant woman had particular resonance chez Epworth!
|
|
|
Post by bringbacklenwhite on Aug 13, 2014 15:30:45 GMT
Excellent stuff.
Well done, Sandy. You to decide on Week O then, owright !
|
|
|
Post by sandbachhatter on Aug 13, 2014 16:00:01 GMT
Cheers Eppy! Thanks very much mate!
|
|