Sufferingfool

Great again tonight 96 minutes of constant graft COYR

Your assuming he was ever young??‍♂️

Enjoyed watching that, thanks.
Nice to see a different perspective. The guys seemed fairly balanced. They’re right that Bournemouth were sloppy and we were dogged.
Also nice to hear some praise for our fans after a couple of unsavoury incidents earlier in the season.

Son? Is that really you?

I was in the Joiners arms with a couple of mates when the then forest manager walked in with a couple of plebs.
The treetard gaffer walked over to where we were sitting and informed us that this was his usual table and then stood by expecting us to move. After a good few seconds passed and realising that we weren't responding in the way he expected,  he raised his voice and told us that we needed to move because this was his table! 
He didn't look to pleased when I said " not tonight it isn't,  now piss off.
We even stopped for a extra pint just to wind him up a bit more. 

Loving the threads reminiscing about the past. This may have been covered before but there will be many of you out there who met the great man and have stories to tell.
My Brian encounter happened back around the very early 90’s. I was with a work colleague doing some very bad juggling at an open day/fete at Central Day Nursery in the west end. Brian came strolling along with Barbara and I think some grand children in tow, stopped and demanded we throw him a juggling ball which I did. He looked at it and said “cricket was my game at school young man” and proceeded to wang it back at me before proceeding onwards with his entourage. I was only glad it was not one of the juggling knives he had not asked for he had the air of someone who had had a couple before setting out!

Back in 68 or 69 I was playing for a youth club team at the racecourse. Normally a winger I was playing right back as we were short of defenders.
I was getting completely skinned by this lad so after the 5th or 6th time I got fed up and totally took him out. 2 footed and late. Got sent off and this unmistakeable voice booms out from the touchline " Don't give up the day job lad"
My career for the Rams was finished there and then.

I've told this story at least once before.
Early 1970, won a school essay competition: "who I'd most like to meet". Kevin Hector. My friend wrote about Archie Gemmil.
Our prize was to go to the BBG to watch a training session. Met Brian in his office, shook his hand, honestly didn't wash it for a week. "Young man, I suppose you want my autograph". 
Did the whole tour of the changing rooms, the wall ball wall etc.
Had a great laugh with Les Green who bunked off running around the pitch when Brian went off to answer a phone call.
Got most of the player autographs - except, ironically, Zak. Got that some years later outside the ground on a match day.
I was also served by Brian years later in the Bramcote post office/newsagent.

I had a friend that lived on Meadow Lane in Chadd 1st name Dave he made plaster casts for Dentures, Bit of a lad with a wandering eye or 2 for the ladies, Anyway, He caught the eye of Elizabeth Clough around the mid late 80s, Our Brian wasn't a happy bunny, Stormed round Daves house to demand he call it all off...the reply was "go fourth and multiply" they ended up fighting in Daves front garden, Elizabeth and Dave carried on dating...not to sure how long for as Dave mooched off a little later, Pretty sure Elizabeth was a bit of a rebel and wouldn't heed what Brian said.
It made the News of the World back in the day

I was listening to a podcast with Steve Davies the other month and apparently Nigel used to walk around Moor Farm launching cricket balls indiscriminately and unannounced.
What an odd family trait ?

Loving the threads reminiscing about the past. This may have been covered before but there will be many of you out there who met the great man and have stories to tell.
My Brian encounter happened back around the very early 90’s. I was with a work colleague doing some very bad juggling at an open day/fete at Central Day Nursery in the west end. Brian came strolling along with Barbara and I think some grand children in tow, stopped and demanded we throw him a juggling ball which I did. He looked at it and said “cricket was my game at school young man” and proceeded to wang it back at me before proceeding onwards with his entourage. I was only glad it was not one of the juggling knives he had not asked for he had the air of someone who had had a couple before setting out!

An old post I've repeated but I hope fits the topic and may give some new members a little taste of how it was.
November 1955 at the age of seven is my first memory. Remember in those days there was no such thing as football on the television. We had BBC in black and white and that was it. I was aware My Dad went to watch Derby County play. Who they were, what division they played in , why he went was all a mystery. Dad always worked on Saturday mornings and then went to the pub after finishing. Usually he would roll in about 3.00p.m and go to sleep . Occasionally though he went to a football match, and this particular day he came in about six o’ clock and put his bag on the handle inside the door as usual. Mam asked him how they had gone on and I distinctly remember him saying lost 6-1 to Boston ,
                I must have shown some interest because that Christmas I got my very first Charles Buchan annual from my Dad. This was to become his present for me for at least the next six years. It cost 10 shillings and sixpence ( 53p) in today’s money and was always a  prized possession as it was full of stories and  glossy pictures of footballers.
                January 22cnd 1956 I got my first taste of what it was all about. Dad took me to the Baseball Ground to watch Derby play a team called Bradford City. We went by train from Burton Station , catching the 1.18p.m to Derby accompanied by two of Dad’s brothers Stan and Ken. On arrival at Derby I was led up Midland Rd. only for Dad and Stan to go into the Midland Hotel for a pint while uncle Ken took me for a walk somewhere. Sometime later having met up again we went along  London Rd. turning right up Bateman St. on to Osmaston Rd.
For the first time I saw a green trolley bus and was in complete awe as to how those poles coming out the roof of the bus managed to stay on the wires which hung over the road .It was here I first became aware that we were approaching our destination . People wearing black and white scarves and waving noisy rattles , a man shouting all the latest team news as he sold his newspapers and another man selling a little grey booklet called a programme. Dad bought one for 3d ( 1.5p) and gave it to me- my first of many (whatever happened to all them?).
                The noise and babble would have grown as we turned right into Shaftesbury St. up the slight incline and then gently down to the place where there were lots of people milling about which Dad said was the Baseball Ground. there was alweays smoke in the air from the nmerous chimneys and cigarettes. We turned left and queued to go into the Osmaston Upper stand which cost the princely sum of 4/6d (22.5p) to sit down. Through the click of the turnstile,into the building, up three flights of stairs wide enough to take six people and then at the top up a further couple of steps back into the cold January daylight. Wow ! so this is the Baseball Ground football pitch - with a diamond of rolled brown mud and four green corners all marked out with white lines the purpose of which I didn't yet understand .
Looking down and around I could see the crowds coming in at the far end of what was the Popular side and making their way to their favourite standing spot under the roof which was painted with the sign OFFILERS ALES in large white letters. At the opposite end, stood a three tiered stand called the Normanton end with a small area called the boys pen under the scoreboard ,and on our right was the single tier main stand  stretching the length of the pitch where the directors and rich people sat with a  small terrace area in front.
In the middle of that was an opening which led under the stand . This Dad said was where the players came out just before kick off at 3.00p.m. A man dressed in black and white top hat and tails walked around path on the perimeter of the pitch with his rattle . encouraging the crowd to use  theirs and boys with baskets over their shoulders moved slowly along the path around the pitch selling peanuts and sweets .
                Of the game I can remember absolutely nothing. I know that Derby won 4-1 and 15285 people  were there but that’s it. The important thing was that from that day on I was hooked and my love affair with the game of football and Derby County had begun. That programme was read from back to front over and over taking in the names of players – fixtures and results so far. I learned Derby were in the Third Division North and the league table showed me they were currently lying second. I looked  on a map to see where Bradford was and also some of the other teams Derby had played. Workington, Barrow and Carlisle it all sounded very romantic. I never went to another game that season , but  Derby stayed second scoring over 100 goals but just missed out on promotion (no play offs in those days) but I now had my heroes and I started to read reports of the games in the papers and cut out the pictures of the players as they appeared in print.        
I watched my first Cup Final in 1956 a match played between Manchester City and Birmingham City. It was i think, the only game televised that season and was memorable in that Manchester City who won 3-1 had a German ex prisoner of war called Bert Trautmann in goal. He had the misfortune to get hurt in a collision and played on holding his neck for the rest of the game (there were no substitutions in those days). Later X-rays showed that he had broken his neck.
 The FA Cup was the competition all footballers most wanted to win and all boys dreamed one day of playing on the hallowed turf at Wembley. The final in front of 100,000 spectators was always a tremendous occasion on the first Saturday in May at 3.00p.m. It was  showed on BBC television and watched by millions. There were no prying cameras on coaches or in dressing rooms, no pundits offering inane pearls of wisdom for hours on end, no adverts to distract the viewer. The brass band played and the crowd, with supporters of both teams standing side by side with no segregation, sang Abide with Me before the teams came out to a mighty roar. The long walk from the tunnel to the half way line on a pristine pitch mowed in contrasting stripes before presentation to a Royal dignitary increased the anticipation of the fantastic game to come. And the final whistle then usually signalled the end of the football season and kids started to play cricket. That was the way it always was   
The following season 1956-57 I went to Derby more often, watching nine games in all. Each time Dad paid for me to sit in the Osmaston end at 4/6d per time. I would have gone to more but I think he found the extra expense a bit draining. I have very good memories of this season as Derby was  now my favourite team and I started to hang on every spoken and written word about them. I had my favourite players – Jack Parry ,Tommy Powell and Geoff Barrowcliffe- when the latter did something good I can still here Dad saying Good old Barrer! I picked up the magic of the FA Cup as Derby beat Bradford City in the first round and I was able to see the goals replayed on television for the very first time but what the programme was I don’t remember at all.  In the second round I saw them knocked out by New Brighton (non league) and the dreams were over for another year. Dad didn’t miss a home game that season and went to several away as well. My programme collection grew, supplemented by ones from places like Hull, Bradford and Doncaster and all read from cover to cover.
Derby won the Third Division North at a canter that year setting up records that still hold today. Most team goals in a season and most goals in a season by one player (Ray Straw). One game that really sticks in the mind was against Barrow- Derby were 0-2 down at half time and for the first time I became aware of the amount of noise that could be generated by the Baseball Ground crowd as the Rams fought back to draw 3-3. It was an eye opener but fell way short of the cacophony of sound that would be created ten to fifteen years later.
 

I was born in 1952 and I first watched the Rams in 1958, albeit the Rams Reserves, whose Central League fixtures were played on Saturday afternoons in those days. First team home fixtures alternated with the reserves but I didn't get to watch to first team until my  dad considered it safe for me to do so.  My first 1st team game was the last game of the 61/2 season.  My Dad thought it would be fine for time then as I was 10 and able to cope with the bigger crowds then (which varied anywhere between 8.000 and about 13,000 compared to the 1,000 or so at reserve games.)  Our opponents were Brighton and Hove Albion who were already relegated. The Rams won 2-0.
In 1960, my Dad got a job with DCFC which consisted of manning the players gate at the Osmaston end of the ground next door to the ticket office. On non-matchdays he would assist the groundsman on the upkeep of the billiard table smooth surface (!!) of the BBG and also the training ground pitch.  He would also drive the players and staff minibus between the BBG and the training ground on Sinfin Lane which was next to a large estate type pub - was it called The County?
On matchdays I was a like a pig in poo then as there were many famous players passing through the players gate.  Even when the reserves played there were lots of well known players returning from injury and I could get their autographs very easily indeed.  They rarely refused to sign their pictures, often culled from Charles Buchan's Football Monthly and stuck haphazardly in a scrapbook.  God knows what that scrapbook would be worth now, if I could only find it.
Wonderful memories of those times when Harry Storer and Tim Ward managed the Rams before the advent of Brian Clough & Peter Taylor.
Bill.....
 
 

Never knew my Grandad he passed away in 1933 when My Dad was 5 years old, Alice my Grandma never remarried but apparently had a few boyfriends ?.
So I guess it was all down to my Dad, He was born in Joseph Street a 5-6 minute walk to the BBG, A quiet fella he was, Never really spoke about his family or his past...he was ex forces, But would talk about DCFC not a great deal but enough for me to know who they were.
So as a 10 year old instead of going to the local pictures in Chadd the Essoldo I decided to go down town(Derby)and watch the market traders on Cockpit Hill, With 1s-3d(7p)in my pocket I set off from home(Trenton Green area)across Chadd Park, Along Nottingham Road, Through to the old cattle market and to Cockpit Hill, Stalls all set up on the cobbled stones, Me just mooching about watching and listening, Now as a 10 year old they were the times you were chucked out of the house and told not to come back until tea time, Life was pretty safe in those times.
Anyway, I saw lots of folk walking from the bus station heading towards Siddals Road where the old paint factory was(pavement was yellow and red through spilled paint)so I decided to follow them...I was an inquisitive kid(nosey)so followed not knowing where I was going or where I was, Approaching Ivy square, Dairyhouse Road, Cambridge Street then the BBG, Yes it clicked this was what my Dad called Derbys home ground, I never had the money to go in so played/talked with the local kids, They were waiting until around 4-30pm when the gates would open and they could get in the Kids Pen, So I waited and yep we all got in, The last 10mins, We played PNE...won I think 1-0 or 2-0 I could just see over the painted wall at eye level, I remember the noise and the smell of cigarette smoke.
As a 10 year old in 1966 pre World Cup Winners, It was playing Hide n Seek, Cherry knocking, Cat Creeping, Hop Scotch, Riding your Bike or Marbles in the Gutter, This football was something new to me, Something I wanted more of, Money was tight in our family with both parents and 6 kids, All were fed and clothed and given pocket money of 1s and 3d, That was enough to get me into the pictures 6d to get in and 9d to spend on sweats.
So it was a case of a paper round or saving up, There were no paper rounds as all the bigger lads had got them, So I had to save up for the next season, I still went to the pictures but sneaked in so I saved the 6d and only spent 6d on sweats, So 9d a week could be saved, I walked to the ground from home around 70mins as I didn't want to spend money on bus fare, Season 1966-67 was my 1st season, I went to around 10 games...My 1st game was the 1st of the season Blackburn Rovers we lost, But the excitement being in a crowd of 1000s was something I couldn't forget, A pocket money raise the next year so a few more games were taken in, 1968-69 was my 1st full season and what a season it was...arise one Brian Clough and his assistant Peter Taylor.
Division 2 Champions, 4th in our 1st year, 2 League Championships, Europe, FA Cup, Quiz Ball Champions(TV)the worst pitch in English football...well the rest is history, I've fought, Been clumped by away fans and the Police, I've made a shedload of friends, Travelled North, South, East and West, All weathers, Begged, Borrowed and Stole to get to matches, Have a Ram Tattoo now covered over, Ate, Slept and Drank DCFC, Bought the T shirt, DCFC was my life, If we lost I go into a sulk for a couple of days, Then the weekend was soon upon us and the buzz would start.
There will only be ever...ever one club...Derby County FC.

Tom Lawrence seems to be a bit of a' marmite' player  on the DCFC Forum. I've never known quite what to make of him although I've never criticized him.  However, today he was magnificent. Apart from his tremendous performance in the game he went straight to interviews following the match and so missed the initial celebrations , but then he went to the South Stand and started the bounce with Curtis. He also hung around afterwards for photographs with fans and autographs. I'm sure all he wanted was a warm bath! Well done today, Tom. Just hope we see more of the same for the rest of the season.

Outstanding COYR

Goddard and Saunders what a strike partnership that was, gutted when Goddard went to Millwall.

Goddard and Saunders what a strike partnership that was, gutted when Goddard went to Millwall.

Goddard and Saunders what a strike partnership that was, gutted when Goddard went to Millwall.

Goddard and Saunders what a strike partnership that was, gutted when Goddard went to Millwall.

Well what a read this has been. Ffs 
We not down yet, let's hope the player give all and do the impossible... and what a buzz knowing we beat the odds,  it will make last game of last season like a a tea party with the celebration..
If we go down , we will/hope have new owners innplace that will want to get us back up ASAP
I hope even the wrist slashes on here will turn out next season  with the loyal brigade and be part of the support that all other league 1 clubs will be envious 
OK the ground might not be ideal for some of you prawn sandwiches,  so for one season, try a soggy pukky pie, see a old ground, see how poor supported clubs survive . 
So what if we play thro the WC some Irish rams and scot rams won't be there anyways ? give them something to do while us welshrams ? and you English rams are away in Qatar 
Ffs put on some blind faith glasses and remember this is Derby COUNTY   not man United Liverpool mancity Chelsea etc if you believe we will be like this  You are deluded 
It's the Derby way,  the rollercoaster way. 
I have planned 5 games till new year all paid up, as part of my bit to support the team and the great eascape from here in paddy Land. 
So COYR. 
 
 

This annoys me so much. 
Not the fact that sent these messages, although I certainly don’t condone it, but that fact that I’ve heard people today saying ‘well it’s double standards isn’t it.’
Why does it matter? Why does it undermine the racial abuse he’s suffered? It doesn’t suddenly make that okay? Just cos everyone is racist, doesn’t suddenly make racism okay?
The whole idea of historically racist tweets and messages pisses me off too. Surely their must be some sort of statute of limitations. What one person writes when they’re 19 is not at all the same as what they think when they’re 30. And not at all the same as decades long institutional racism at all levels. At that point surely a heartfelt apology and genuine contrition is all that’s needed to draw a line under it. 
that anyone would go to the effort of digging this out, at this time, with clearly the sole purpose of undermining what he’s saying, is deplorable. And for what purpose? To derail any investigation into racism?
Racism begets racism, just as bullies beget bullies. If you’re being picked on, if you’re in that environment where your basically being taught that it’s okay to pick on others who are weaker or in a minority, then you’re going to mimic that. If anything, these messages just prove what he was saying, that the cricketing environment he grew up in was endemically racist. 
Im probably thinking about it too much though, it’s probably just a stupid message from a stupid kid trying to look cool in front of his stupid mates. Either way, certainly not something to crucify him over, and certainly not something that should detract from the key issue.
I’m just glad that social media didn’t exist when I was a 19 year old, who knows what stupid poo I would’ve posted back then. 

Tip of the iceberg I suspect won’t just be happening at Headingly.

Took receipt of this little fella and I'm bloody well chuffed with it. 

You know how it is...
You come home from war... your thoughts, nightmares, mental torture, and guilt over not keeping your mate alive, despite them only being feet apart when the Afghan sniper hit... all firmly bottled away for 4 years in an army issue camo travel-flask... before finally coming clean (read "failed to hide it any longer"!) to your superiors, army doctors, shrinks, and... eventually... family!
A further 5 years pass by (on Civvy Street) with mainly ineffective help, advice and treatment (not for the lack of trying!), whilst the meds, the waking nightmares, the endless sleepless nights, the guilt, and the suicidal tendencies continue apace... until finally, along comes a seemingly successful (fingers crossed!) bout of EMDR therapies, slowly but surely making for a massive upturn in all things mood related.  (Still early days, mind!  Taking nothing for granted, here!)
And then... with almost perfect timing... the chance of a new start.  A new focus.  A new purpose in life. 
As of this very morning... confirmed!
 
Some folk... particularly parents, I would imagine... may see the fact that their son is about to head off clearing the planet of landmines (starting with 6 months in Cambodia in the new year) as a bit of a bummer!
But with what we have all been through for the last five years (Plus the secret four, for him!) and with the smile finally back on his face, and a renewed zest for the future, I'm putting today down as being one of the best... despite the natural parental trepidation... because quite simply, it's what he wants... what he needs... and what he deserves.
 
Just need to get through this coming Sunday, as we'll be with him when he heads homeward from his Cornish Hideaway, and goes for a long awaited* chat and a catch-up with the aforementioned mate's name-on-the-Camp Bastion Wall, at The National Memorial Arboretum, then it really is time to move onwards, upwards, and forwards!
(*It was an annual thing, until Covid scuppered last year's visit)
 
I may delete this any time soon... for obvious reasons... but right now, with tears in my eyes... I just want to scream out in unashamed relief!
I think he... and we... might just have turned a very long, slow corner.  Who knows... we may even have made it out through the other side!
Good day?  Hell yeah!
 
For The Fallen.
For Matt.
And for those still with us.
xxx
#LWF