We few, we happy few, we band of brothers. What a game, what performances. That was a wonderful game of football. They edged us on the pass and move, I had jangling nerves every time they had a corner .. those quality balls in just forward of the 6 yard box at the right height and willing attackers ready to pounce to well practiced drills. But Cashin and Curtis like Bulwarks, “thou shall not pass” Ebioe running their full back ragged in the first half. Such balance and control. Did you see that arrogant take down in the second half ? What a touch he has. Tommo a micro battering ram with twinkling toes. Byrne running and running and .. marking Mitrovic ?. Mr sweet face Serbian prince turned rapidly in to grumpy, petulant old nanny goat by the mighty Rams. Tom Lawrence bursting with energy and intent. Seeing Plange’s confidence soar as the second half progressed and watching Buchanan get stronger and taller as the minutes passed. Knighty burning nuclear energy on every inch of the pitch. The one who made it for me was Eiran Cashin. Positioning, strength, key headers, blocks, tackles, calm under pressure, never reckless, tidy always. He’s 20 ? And he’s a god of a Centre Back already.
que sera sera but I am so proud of this team as was everyone else. You can feel the bond between fans and players in a way that I have never seen in 50 odd years of watching football.
Get this deal done .. I need to renew my season ticket ????
While I respect your experience, I think this season has been anything but "draining", "miserable", or "pointless" on the pitch. The pride I've felt when the lads have given absolutely everything has been huge.
Even if we do go down, this team will be one that will stick in the memory for a long time. For me, that's the opposite of pointless.
Just time out to thank the Mods at this time. Cant imagine how difficult it must be to keep on top of the volume of posts also at a time when feelings are running high. Think we'd all be lost without this forum so thank you
Anyone posting any negatives after today just dont get football for me.
Lots of things to analyse but that is for another day.
Right now I am on cloud 9 and getting bladdered.
Just wish a few others on here would learn to enjoy these sort of moments.
Sky TV and Football Manager have changed the landscape of football supporters for ever unfortunately.
Travelled overland independently by train, lots of snow around Banya Luka (October), but still arrived in good time at Mostar. Walked from the station to the ground in conversation (in French!) with a German, who recognised the Ram motif on my shoulder bag. Gateman at the ground was after Rams souvenirs when Stuart Webb arrived, we exchanged a few pleasantries, he showed his DCFC credentials and I was allowed in with him! The team coach arrived shortly after and Alan Hill was struggling with the kit hamper across a pebbled area, so yes, just offered a hand to get it to the visitors dressing room. Most of the players had gone to have a look at the pitch, but David Nish followed us in. He had just moved into our village and had had conversations over the garden gate with my Dad, so that was a useful starting point until Zac arrived with his bit of typical Yorkshire forthright approach!
I bade my adieus, and walked out into the next room which happened to be the club bar, which, needless to say, was full of Bosnians and Serbs. My bag and rucksack singled me out as a Rams fan, and it was only seconds before I was besieged with more requests for Rams souvenirs. I had only two left when their inside forward Vidic, who had played in the first leg at Derby, came and sat down, and he ended up with a copy of the Football League Magazine which came out with the Rams programme.
Whilst waiting in the York Hotel outside the station for the train back home after the first leg, a tall smartly dressed individual wanted the phone, speaking in reasonable English to the hotel staff, who of course had to get the call for him - in the 1970s it was necessary to wait for calls to be obtained to less popular international locations, in this case Mostar. I assumed that he was possibly the Mostar president or CEO perhaps, so in the bar I motioned to Vidic that I wanted to speak to the "President". He disappeared and duly returned with an ageing gentleman who was in fact the Club President. But the message had got across that we needed an interpreter, and shortly after the guy seen in Derby appeared. I recalled to him that I had seen him at the York, so we were well away! Drinks and food were provided gratis, courtesey of the club / President, and I could leave my rucksack there until after the game. The well dressed guy was the reporter for the local paper, and this was news, as Mostar had beaten one of the Moscow teams (? Spartak?) over two legs in the previous round, unbelievable for a town the size of Burton!
As it built towards kick-off, I made my way out to the Terraces, only to find that I was in the private part of the ground, with only a small three- step terrace which held about 20 people maximum! A programme seller appeared walking round the ground, the very guy who had been manning the gate earlier on. I called to him and rummaged in my shoulder bag for the last souvenir, one of those circular gold and dark blue DERBY COUNTY pin badges with a Ram in the centre - you might have one still, I haven't! I thought that offering it was an appropriate gesture to a guy who had been instrumental in what was turning out to be some totally unexpected "adventure", and he proudly pinned it on, safe in the knowledge that no one else had one!
The Rams of course lost 4-1, and it was almost dark as the firecrackers went of following their third and fourth goal, the latter a penalty against Colin Todd which was clearly ball-to-hand rather than the reverse, which the high profile and even more highly controversial Dutch referee, Charles Corver, duly gave. (He was handing out photos of himself on the flight into Dubrovnik apparently - some ego!). Stuart Webb was beside himself at this unexpected setback, and on returning home made it clear that Derby would appeal against the firecrackers during the match, so I sent in some camera shots of them to him, and weeks later they were returned after the appeal had been turned down.
So, back to the bar, where the President came to commiserate - and celebrate that lightning did sometimes strike twice. In true English fashion I offered my congratulations, and eventually took my leave of them, reflecting, in spite of my disappointment, that I had witnessed what had been a momentous event in the history of this small club.
This must sound unusual to many of you, but the club is not like an English club. The dressing rooms and bar were part of what we would call a large two story club house, set back some 50 yards from the pitch and behind the goal. The directors / officials watched the games from easy chairs in a first floor "terraced room" with sliding -folding doors, looking out "onto all they surveyed". The 50 yards in between were flower beds with rose trees, neatly trimmed low privet hedges and a pebble path for the players to access the pitch. The opposite end was not spectator accommodation. The side nearest the road was terraced, and provided perhaps 15 steps the length of the ground, and the opposite side had 3 /4 steps of concrete terrace, with a small seated stand at the half way line. Beyond this, the (enclosed) hillside rose quite steeply into the far distance, and would have accommodated the population of the three East Midlands cities with ease. Little did I know the horrific significance that this welcoming club was to play some 20 years later. During the dissolution of the old Yugoslavia, you may be aware of the subsequent ethic cleansing which took place: the Radavan Karadice saga / era, plus others.
That same pitch was used as a concentration site / camp for those unfortunate enough to be on "the wrong side"......
And no, I had no part at DCFC, I'm just a popside fan who took his chance when it came, this being the third "adventure" that being a Rams fan has brought my way. To me, DCFC has always been a Way of Life.
Thanks for reading - sorry if I bored you.
