I've seen him and the dog loads of times, does he just walk round the ground or what does he do with the dog if he goes to the game? (I'm assuming it isn't some sort of guide dog)
He's always walking away from the stadium 5 mins before kick off, he may be a fan, but the amount of times I've seen him walking the dog away from the ground suggests he doesn't go. I might offer him my ST next time I see him, then he can share our pain. I'm sure it would be more enjoyable walking a Hull City shirt wearing Alsatian.
I'd be surprised, I've seen him literally a mile or so from the ground walking the wrong direction with the dog - I was particularly late that day.
I don't know the bloke, someone on Facebook just said they knew him and he drops the dog off nearby and goes to games. I'm not bad at Mastermind, but I'm crap at University Challenge, I rarely get more than one right.
Many more injuries and the dog will be playing. I suggest defensive midfielder, bite your legs type role
Same here. Was late for one game and cat ten minutes after kick off passed him near Parkers walking away from the ground.
He walks past me just about every match at about quarter to three, close to the west stand main entrance and South corner. Cutting it very fine if he is doing anything more than tying it up close by.
So, since we've established he is very unlikely to attend games, shouldn't the Barclays hashtag read #Youarenearlyfootball ?
Maybe he wakes up on a Saturday morning filled with optimism, received a cheeky blowey off the young wife (not too young- just about 21. You know- a good age. With a tongue as keen as a lizard) anyway, he goes downstairs and finds his kids have cooked him a full English breakfast (without mushrooms- crispy bacon, extra black pudding), reads the paper, notices he's won the EuroMillions (AGAIN), has a quick snooze, wakes up refreshed and gets chewed off by his wife. He's now ready for the afternoons excitement, puts on his reliable old Parker, dresses the Alsation (Roy) and sets off on his journey to the Station Hotel where Roy is given a belly rub by one of the many Eastern European ladies, whilst our friend receives a delicious pint of Tetleys (they keep a barrel just for him). He then wanders through the station and down towards the ground allowing himself time to think about the day he's had so far... The Blowey, the breaky, the pint and Roy. He looks in to the distance, seeing the stadium lights glowing on the horizon and thinks to himself "**** this!", he looks down at Roy, his brown eyes pleading with him, for Roy knows, Sagbo will piss him off. Let's **** off back home to listen to an unbiased commentary by Peter Swann. True story.
Are you sure he's not Peter Swann? I sometimes suspect he's not at the game by the comments he makes.
