I was there
(stolen from the mag- not my words but could of been)
Millwall (away) August 1978
Relegated in a truly abysmal fashion the season before, Newcastle were back in Division two for the first time since the early sixties. The only thing in a worse state than our football club was the actual country itself. Those who were around at the time will remember that football grounds were not a place for the faint hearted to spend time in.
Newcastle’s first game in the lower division was at Cold Blow Lane. This was the home of Harry the Dog (try looking him up on youtube) and the most infamous firm in England.
The train from Newcastle arrived in Kings Cross and a very loud, very drunk and very scary bunch of lads got off. For anyone on that train who wasn’t going to the match, it must have been the journey from hell.
After a few beers at the station, we all set off for Bermondsey and an hour or so later arrived outside a ground that made the open terraces of St James Park look like the Nou Camp. It really was a hideous dump – but what a very intimidating dump it was.
We were given half of one end and were separated from our hosts by fencing that I think had spikes on the top. Newcastle’s players wouldn’t fetch the ball from in front of the home fans and we had the pleasure of spending 90 minutes having various pieces of concrete hurled at our heads.
You would also think that our new striking partnership of John Connolly and Jim Pearson were wearing concrete boots for all the threat they had on the Millwall goal. Newcastle were dire and despite actually going ahead, it was no surprise to lose in London yet again.
The team that day was made up of 11 men from the British Isles. Not one Johnny foreigner in sight. It made no difference, we were still crap.
Plod decided to keep us in for an age, which only seemed to be done to allow the home fans plenty of time to set up their ambushes. Even as a pretty fit teenager, being chased by hairy arsed dockers while wearing my best brown baggies and my platform soles wasn’t a lot of fun.
Once out of Millwall’s patch, we then had the added pleasure of being attacked by West Ham fans, who were also at home that day. What a bloody nightmare.
If you ever saw a film that came out around this time called ‘The Warriors’, it would neatly sum up the journey back to the station, although if I’m honest I don’t remember actually being chased by a gang dressed in a New York Yankees baseball kit,
We finally got back to Kings Cross to find the train was long gone, meaning many a lad spent the next few hours
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
one other thing I do remember from this game was that I found a Fiver as I walked through the turnstiles
little did I know this time next year I would be a millionaire
(stolen from the mag- not my words but could of been)
Millwall (away) August 1978
Relegated in a truly abysmal fashion the season before, Newcastle were back in Division two for the first time since the early sixties. The only thing in a worse state than our football club was the actual country itself. Those who were around at the time will remember that football grounds were not a place for the faint hearted to spend time in.
Newcastle’s first game in the lower division was at Cold Blow Lane. This was the home of Harry the Dog (try looking him up on youtube) and the most infamous firm in England.
The train from Newcastle arrived in Kings Cross and a very loud, very drunk and very scary bunch of lads got off. For anyone on that train who wasn’t going to the match, it must have been the journey from hell.
After a few beers at the station, we all set off for Bermondsey and an hour or so later arrived outside a ground that made the open terraces of St James Park look like the Nou Camp. It really was a hideous dump – but what a very intimidating dump it was.
We were given half of one end and were separated from our hosts by fencing that I think had spikes on the top. Newcastle’s players wouldn’t fetch the ball from in front of the home fans and we had the pleasure of spending 90 minutes having various pieces of concrete hurled at our heads.
You would also think that our new striking partnership of John Connolly and Jim Pearson were wearing concrete boots for all the threat they had on the Millwall goal. Newcastle were dire and despite actually going ahead, it was no surprise to lose in London yet again.
The team that day was made up of 11 men from the British Isles. Not one Johnny foreigner in sight. It made no difference, we were still crap.
Plod decided to keep us in for an age, which only seemed to be done to allow the home fans plenty of time to set up their ambushes. Even as a pretty fit teenager, being chased by hairy arsed dockers while wearing my best brown baggies and my platform soles wasn’t a lot of fun.
Once out of Millwall’s patch, we then had the added pleasure of being attacked by West Ham fans, who were also at home that day. What a bloody nightmare.
If you ever saw a film that came out around this time called ‘The Warriors’, it would neatly sum up the journey back to the station, although if I’m honest I don’t remember actually being chased by a gang dressed in a New York Yankees baseball kit,
We finally got back to Kings Cross to find the train was long gone, meaning many a lad spent the next few hours
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
one other thing I do remember from this game was that I found a Fiver as I walked through the turnstiles
little did I know this time next year I would be a millionaire
