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Indeed. And I used to go on the East Terrace. Thing was, I needed somthing to lean on (undiagnosed scoliosis) and without that I would have backache after 2 minutes free-standing. So I arrived when I had to arrive. Then, a few minutes before KO, some tall tit would stand in front of me...

Did we? That is FANTASTIC news :lolol::bigwave:

Actually, no. I first bumped into 'AFW' (with his splendid dad, if I recall rightly) in a football context, at a BHA game, at the Swindon playoff semi, not so long ago, in the great scheme of life's mysterious stream. On NSC I had to poke him quite heavily before he remembered me, a while ago...

Crikey, that was a horrible match. Me and my chums (the same trio I mentioned elsewhere) spent the whole match hanging off the fence that separated the SW corner from the West stand (posh seats). It was so packed that was as far as we could get. All we saw was a goalkeeper taking the ball out of...

Ben's Grandad's grandad. Was he one for sending several telegrams a day to the Argus, about the various rumours he'd heard in a disreputable public bar? :wink:

Nobody. I was 11. I walked from Portslade to the Goldstone and back, with my mate Andy, also 11, and our brothers, both aged 8. We stood behind the South goal and watched the Albion beat Barrow 4-2. When we scored, we threw our blue and white bobble hats (knitted by our mums) into the air.