Now the real fun of life begins. And maybe a few mornings when you'll already be awake to greet the Spanish dawn and run with those Cantabrian Mountain larks of yours.....
I don't know how you lot keep the faith.
Just when it looks impossible for the Baggies to stay up, they go on a run.
Just when your hopes start to rise and you begin to believe, Greening gets a three match ban for a bit of nonsense at Villa.
Still, I hope you make it.
It's a lot of fun watching the Old Trafford Old Boys Robson, Hughes, Bruce, Jordon (until last week), Strachan (???) and who knows, if Reading get their finger out, maybe even Coppell, pitting their wits against each other from the dug-outs. I don't count McClaren as he spent less time there than George Best in his final season.
The harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph
Remember getting Bryan Robsons autograph at a bus stop when I was about 8 years old. Robson was a Baggie long before Fat Ron whisked him away to Manchester. He took Remi Moses as well (Remember him? Tigerish midfielder. Great afro !) Older Albion fans never forgave Robbo for leaving us at a time when Albion had a much better side than United and the second coming (along with his somewhat dodgy managerial record) was treated with much scepticism amongst the Baggie ranks....or so Im told. But all credit to him, things are at last looking up...(starts humming theme tune from The Great Escape).
A snowy Boxing Day afternoon in 1978. Old Trafford. United 3 Albion 5. Regis, Cunningham, Bomber Brown, Len Cantello.....ooooh stop, I could quite happily wallow in nostalgia for days...
Blimey lads, a Palace fan and a Baggie. Lets lighten the mood, eh chaps? It's getting awful dark in here . . . perhaps you'll cheer up if we talk about Norwich giving United a sound thrashing last weekend. 'Reasonable' Roy Keane had a few nice things to say about his team mates this week in the press. Fergies Rottweiler, complete with foam dripping form the mouth.
Yes BB, I remember the halcyon days when it wasn't just the lower teams who gave us a black eye - anyone could turn us over. But at least it was just because United were crap then; now it's a bunch of overpaid, soft-bellied kids taking the money and the p*ss. Very sad.
The harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph
Hey RB, Ive just read your comment and its true, I get that all the time. A typical conversation goes something like this.
Whats your team then?
West Brom
Who?
West Brom...The Albion...The Baggie boys....you know, they beat Valencia in the Uefa cup back in the 70s, when Mario Kempes played ...and you know, Real Madrid signed the late, great Laurie Cunningham for almost a million quid. They tell me he became the first Madrid player to receive an ovation from the Barcelona fans....
(This might trigger the memories of the over 35s but the conversation usually follows the same course whatever the age group).
...and your real team?
Ive only got ONE team, you know...BOING BOING BAGGIES BAGGIES
(generally perplexed looks all round)
Next question And your Spanish team?
(Without a shadow of a doubt) Racing de Ferrol
And your real Spanish team? ...and so on...
Sweder, I even get people commiserating with me every year when Man U get knocked out the champions league.... as if theres been a death in the family or something. The conversation goes something like this...
Manchester United are out (waiting for reaction...)
Yes I know the feeling. It's like when I lived in Texas and every SOB I met asked me what part of Australia I was from. I does drive you up the wall after a while.
Still, one thing to be said for Man U is they've flown the flag for British clubs in the Champions League these past 9 years. I'm the first to admit they've under achieved, only getting to one final (but what a final!), but they've reminded the footballing snobs in Italy, Spain and Germany that English clubs are still good enough to mix it with the so-called elite. Now we've got the Mickey Mousers and the Russian Puppets in there to help us out we might get a little more respect at the top table.
Sad to see Italian football going down the pan with all the nonsense in Madrid and Turin these past two nights. I'm of the view that it was ever thus. UEFA enjoyed beating up on English clubs and their shaven-headed followers so much they turned a blind eye to all the flares, the coin throwing, the blatant racism and hatred purveyed in the San Siro and the Stadio del Alpi over the years. Maybe a few chickens are coming home to roost.
Sorry, I'd best call the 606 rant line . . .
The harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph
My favourite West Brom memory is April 3, 1967, when I was 9 years old. First ever football match. Wembley. League Cup Final. West Brom, the aristocrats from the First Division (= Premiership now of course) pitted against the no-hopers from the Third Division, Queens Park Rangers. Half time - 2-0 to WBA. All going to form. QPR score just after half time. Roger Morgan I think (later of Tottenham). Then on about 75, Rodney Marsh weaves through the West Brom midfield and thumps the ball home from 25 yards. 5 minutes from time, Mark Lazarus, QPR's somewhat aggressive no 7 pops up in the box to win the cup for Rangers.
The only tragedy was that it cemented my affections to W12 for the rest of my days.
We've never won anything since.
El Gordo
Great things are done when men and mountains meet.
Andy, that must be the first time I've heard the words "aristocrat" and "West Bromwich" in the same sentence. I've got a feeling my dad went to that match. Anyway, at least you've seen your lot win something. Albion bounced back in 68 and won the FA cup. I was born in 69 (on the tail of a post-cup final Black Country baby boom inspired by Jeff Astle's left boot) and guess what?.....we haven't won anything else since.
It was certainly no ordinary April. With my head well down with a combination of work and baby preparations and not having run at all since March the Springtime changes have passed by unnoticed and unremarked.
Whilst March consisted of first tentative buds sprouting almost apologetically from leaf bare trees, April is a month of rude, abundant growth. It rained a lot here and blossom came and went and everything turned green. The roadside weeds were suddenly dotted with tiny purple flowers and the first poppies came out alongside them. The nesting swallows settled and then chased each other round and round the entrance to the garage . But without running Id become more or less oblivious to all this. Didnt actually miss the physical activity of it, ...hey, I dont even like running that much (walking and cycling and even football are for me altogether pleasanter forms of exercise) but I have missed sensing whats around me, hearing the wind or the rain or feeling the sun on my forehead. Equate all this with feeling ...well, alive.
No endorphin-induced withdrawal symptoms then, but a certain nostalgia crept in on looking through the kitchen window and seeing Monte Pajariel now exhibiting a patchwork quilt of more subtler shades of green. Spring, rebirth, growth and the continuation of natures great cycle...and ....and.....
