rip ernie moss. a lower-league legend.
40 years ago i'd never given much thought to going to watch football matches. thanks to mother's job training of many years earlier, we had family friends living in derbyshire, folk who we saw every year and stayed with, or they stayed with us, and we knew better than most extended family members.
on at least a couple of visits over there, i tagged along to saltergate with the younger daughter. i'd been to boothferry park a handful of times, but alone. these saltergate visits included some instruction. i know i saw ernie at least once. he was revered. in many ways, watching a team that isn't yours is kind of liberating because you don't have the related feelings, though i suspect they soon start to grow. it wasn't much later that i started at bp, and discovered a group of people i knew. i used to change standing place in each half for a better view when we scored, so i'd stand with these people for half the game.
but, yeah, rip ernie.