Mucker1884

Great idea... although we'll need some form of headgear to go with it.
If only somebody could come up with a suitable suggestion...  

Remember Forest blowing a 3 point lead and a 7 goal swing when they played like a pub team against Stoke and Swansea turned into 1970 Brazil for the evening.  4 goals is nowt.  Peterborough have a  9 goal swing to make up.  That seems too much but they have a lose 5 nil, win 4 nil habit.  All a bit stressful.  2-0 at halftime please to make me feel better Derby. 

I’d love to go on the pitch to have a moment to celebrate. I think the draw to do so is to be part of the ‘we’ that is always referred to. No seats and stairs in the way of celebrating with everyone around and being able to stand on the turf where promotion was won. I sit up right at the top of the upper stand so there’s probably zero chance I would be even get near the pitch anyway 😂 But I can guarantee B4 will be there on the pitch 😉 

1.  Go back and check out the words in bold.
2.  Then go and say sorry to @Rev, for missing an absolutely cracking rifle-related pun.  If you don't, you're gunner look a right pillock!  

Great idea... although we'll need some form of headgear to go with it.
If only somebody could come up with a suitable suggestion...  

@Mucker1884
 

Dear Derby County, 
As this sporting extravaganza falls around the time one consumes luncheon, would you please be kind enough to ensure the cuisine’s temperature is above the usual tepid level. One needs sustenance to soak up a couple of pints of dark fruits. 
 
Yours sincerely
 
 

Dear Derby County.
Could you please advise whether there is a planned lap of honour by the club's players, management, and staff following the final whistle of the game v Carlisle.
It's just that, if this isn't planned, I can shoot off straight away, and be home for tea, before you can say "Meh, well that was a pleasant enough afternoon, I guess".
However, should this be planned... and executed unhindered... I would be more than happy to stay behind, with I guess 99% of the fans, and applaud all those involved in giving us a wonderful season to remember, showering them all with gratitude and congratulations in equal measure, before partying later in the evening.
If you could get back to me it would be most appreciated, as I'll need to know what time Muckerette needs to put the half-baked baguettes in the oven.
Yours sincerely,
Nobody important.
 

Although I imagine that the club wouldn't admit this publicly, I strongly suspect that when citing Health and Safety, it's not "we" they are thinking about.  The safety of two lots of players, two lots of club officials, and a gang of match officials, on the other hand...
 
Not everyone on the pitch will behave like "an adult"!  Sadly!

Indeed... and a lot of us who would like to share the celebration with the players and club staff (And particularly a certain Mr Clowes, I'd imagine)... which usually comes in the form of a "Lap of honour"... which have been known to suffer a last minute cancellation in the past, due to too many (unauthorised) folk meandering about on the pitch!
Whatever transpires, I strongly suspect that the old adage about not being able to please everyone will get a passing mention.

That bold bit is where the problem lies, imo.

I envisage the majority of the attendance (22k+) will scuttle off home having not had the chance to thank/congratulate/celebrate with the people that matter... players and staff.
Shame really... but utterly not unexpected.  

We need to put an immediate stop to this.

 
Like... RIGHT NOW!  

Must admit, I was dreading it all getting settled today.
Next week's game would have been such an anti-climax!  Who wants to get promoted early?  Ooh no, thank you very much.
Now we have something to look forward to.  We have hope, expectation, excitement, anticipation, and lots and lots of laundry! 👀
I've ordered some beta-blockers, and checked out where the nearest heart-zapping machine is (To PPS).
I'm buzzing.  What a week to be al

Right,
let's scrap the next 6 days off the calendar, and just get this next effin' week over and done with!
 

No mate.
New rules... It's gone to a replay back at ours a week on Monday.  Winners will be away with the fairies.

PG Wodehouse from the directors box.
Ah, what a jolly morning it was, dear chum! The sun beamed down upon us as we indulged in the quintessentially English pursuit of punting, navigating the tranquil waters with the finesse of seasoned oarsmen. Our hearts lightened further as we repaired to the Botanical Gardens, where libations flowed freely, and the fragrant blooms provided a most agreeable backdrop for our conviviality. Ah, but I must confess, my good fellow, I found myself obliged to decline young Shaun Barker’s entreaty for a round of ten-pin bowling, lest I risked forsaking the tranquility of our day’s pursuits. Instead, we ascended to the exalted environs of the director’s box, where great expectations filled the air like the scent of freshly-cut grass on a summer’s day.
And lo, as the match unfolded before us, it was young Sibley who, with a flick of his hair reminiscent of a dashing hero from the pages of a romantic novel, delivered a pass of such sublime weight and direction that even NML, blessed with the accuracy of a marksman, could not fail to convert it into the winning goal, thereby securing for Derby the coveted three points that now lay within our grasp like ripe fruit ready for the plucking. Indeed, our destiny, like a ship guided by a steady hand upon the helm, now rested firmly in our own hands.
Yet, let us not discount the valiant efforts of our adversaries from Cambridge United, who fought tooth and nail to thwart our aspirations. Wildsmith, our custodian between the sticks, displayed a fortitude akin to that of a one-legged war veteran, kicking and flapping with a determination that belied his circumstances. Our nerves, I must confess, were sorely tested, akin to the frayed edges of a well-read novel.
But now, dear friend, our attention turns to the grand spectacle that awaits us next Saturday, where we shall once again take to the field, this time against the venerable Simmo and his stalwart band of disciples. A single point, so they say, shall suffice to elevate us to the sunlit uplands of the Championship, where glory and adulation await like eager suitors at a debutante’s ball.
It shall be a contest of wits and wills, where the bobble-hatted tactical maestro Warne shall endeavor to marshal his forces with the precision of a seasoned general. Let us rally behind him, dear comrade, for victory is within our grasp, like a well-struck ball sailing towards the goalposts of destiny.

Must admit, I was dreading it all getting settled today.
Next week's game would have been such an anti-climax!  Who wants to get promoted early?  Ooh no, thank you very much.
Now we have something to look forward to.  We have hope, expectation, excitement, anticipation, and lots and lots of laundry! 👀
I've ordered some beta-blockers, and checked out where the nearest heart-zapping machine is (To PPS).
I'm buzzing.  What a week to be al

Must admit, I was dreading it all getting settled today.
Next week's game would have been such an anti-climax!  Who wants to get promoted early?  Ooh no, thank you very much.
Now we have something to look forward to.  We have hope, expectation, excitement, anticipation, and lots and lots of laundry! 👀
I've ordered some beta-blockers, and checked out where the nearest heart-zapping machine is (To PPS).
I'm buzzing.  What a week to be al

How about these sanita.....no wait, ice creams.