Trog, followed by Taffy ( according to Taffy) Anyone remember the pitch invasion and the High Noon standoff that started it at Burden Park, Bolton v City in 1970? It even got a mention on Grandstand, apparently. I was also stood in the Well with the lad who jumped over the railings and thumped the Millwall fan who was being escorted out of the ground after running on the pitch and attempting to attack the ref. My mate got 3 months for that. Late 70's mid 80's ? Poor lads dead now ( City fan not the Millwall lad)
It was criminal what happened to North Stand. Done for financial reasons I guess, with pie in the sky 'plans' for it, but still criminal. It ruined BP for me; still went of course but BP was never the same. I didn't 'buy' Robinson's showmanship and promises; yes, he lifted the mood sort of thing but I don't look back on him as a chairman fondly.
Also sold around the same time but not given the same exposure was the Kempton Road car park which became a housing estate. The original Harold Needler plans for Boothferry Park as part of a 60,000 capacity stadium was an underpass from the car park, under the railway lines and straight into the East Stand which was going to be a two tier stand, hence the huge iron girders that supported the asbestos roof. When the car park was sold, along with all the club houses, no-one batted an eye lid but it was the beginning of the end for Boothferry Park.
I love this thread. Sitting in the front row of the South Stand as an innocent teenager, watching nutters from the Pigs climb into Bunkers and have a go, and get quite a long way before they were “sorted out”, right below me, is a memory that I will always have. That and my mouth constantly burned, actually scorched, by Bovril, with pain relief from a Wagon Wheel, is something I love about City.
I've said it before and I'll say it again... Someone was transcending the laws of Physics in order to get Boothferry Park Bovril that hot. And only a psychopath or a sadist would serve it full to the brim in the flimsiest of paper cups.
As a kid I bought some of those knitted gloves from the south stand club shop underneath. The overfull molten bovril spilt all over my hands with the gloves holding the heat in. I was in ****ing agony
Looking at the very limited display of merchandise in the shop under the south standing was a rare treat.
Also those plaggy things what you stuck on your bike spokes that made an irritating noise when they slapped into your forks every bleeding revolution. In retrospect, although I craved them at the time, I’ve gotta ask ‘what the **** was that about?’
