Before the Blue Belles I'm guessing.:smile:
We had real entertainment in those days. :nope:
Before the Blue Belles I'm guessing.:smile:
I guess everyone knows the film 'Blo*dy Kids' and the scene at Roots Hall, which was taken after a home match against Bury.
Not sure it was 1976, but was certainly around that era.
I remember that game because Laurie Brown was playing for Park Avenue as player-manager. Considering he was an Arsenal stalwart about five mins before, it struck me how quickly you can descend in football. I believe the goals came thick and fast inot the North bank end in the second halfBilly Best and Gary Moore were the dream team..... Loved those days.:smile:
gEven as a kid it struck me what a pointless exercise a brass band was in a strong wind, and often 80 or more yards from their audience. All you could often here was the dull thump of a bass drum and a harrumping tuba now and then.We had real entertainment in those days. :nope:
That was against Grimsby Town in September 1969(?) I went alone, aged 12, paid one shilling and sixpence to get in the Southbank and stood about twenty steps up from the pitch, half way between the goal and the corner flag. It was a 1-3 defeat in which
I guess everyone knows the film 'Blo*dy Kids' and the scene at Roots Hall, which was taken after a home match against Bury. Not sure it was 1976, but was certainly around that era.
One shilling and sixpence, adjusted for inflation is £1.14 in today's money. Kids for a quid every match !!
The programme, which I believe was a shilling that year (but I'm not going up in the loft to check!), would be 76p.
I was attacked by some Lincoln on the South Bank, I defended myself from getting a definite kicking and they backed off. I looked behind me and another large Southend lad was doing the same, he was back to back with me, when he turned around, it was Carl Connors, Lol.
This thread forced me to do the maths, and will be 50 years next year FFS - first home game age 8 in Jan 66 v Mansfield in a relegation season, then became a home regular the following season with my Dad. He gave up in a sulk after late season implosions in 67 & 68 which blew promotion (and developed a sinister theory that the club "didn't want to get promoted"), but I managed to persevere. Used to love the old South Bank under the lights - sitting on the front wall with legs over until the stewards moved you on, and the Programme shop up the top. Somewhere in a loft in Southchurch is a suitcase full of worthless programmes, football league reviews and spiders. Got to stop now as this is becoming too jumpers for goalposts.