A must have for all town fans wardrobes, this shirt never fails to disgust and amaze!
Thursday 13 May 2010
We're the purple and yellow army?
A must have for all town fans wardrobes, this shirt never fails to disgust and amaze!
Its Not All Bad Living Down South....
Huddersfield Town seem to have entered into League One Southern Division at the start of the season and one look at the fixture list saw that many miles needed to be travelled to follow Lee clark and his men. For southern town fans its a dream and over March and April there was a feast of football to be had that kindly fitted with our upturn in away form. Gillingham away followed swiftly after the debacle at Southampton and it has to be up there with the worst away ends and places in my whole time supporting town, Peter was still smiling though. We were poor and to rub it in even more i had to deal with a 12 year old doling out abuse on the train home, incorporating the score of two nil into everything he said and saw. Comedy gems like "is that TWO doors on the car," little prick.
Then came Leyton Orient, which saw yet another good turnout from the town faithful who were treated to a very accomplished and strong performance against a very poor Orient side. We sang our hearts out in the ground but the same cannot be said for the the Coach and Horses before, the scene of a famous sing song with Deano, surrounded by arabs, bananas and even a pig! Thankfully that was the only flat performance of the whole day as town notched up another win that sent us to play off glory.
A new ground for many town fans, Wycombe was another great performance, we were really being spoilt away from home. Over a 1000 town fans, including Sir Andy Booth and the Millbridge Pikey crew as they like to be known , roared on the town to a 2-1 victory courtesy of great strikes from Rhodes and Robinson who sent many people flying over the foam like advertising boards. 'IF THEO SCORES WE'RE ON THE PITCH' came true for some people that day. To see big groups of away fans getting excited about watching town, dressing up and trying to get an atmosphere going is really good to see. Hopfully the dark days of a 400 away at Wallsall watching Glennon picking the ball out of the net too many times to count are long gone. We also couldn't miss a chance to get another photo with a Town Legend.
In the next part there will be pictures and reports from Brentford and Exeter, games in which we lost but still had a good time.
Then came Leyton Orient, which saw yet another good turnout from the town faithful who were treated to a very accomplished and strong performance against a very poor Orient side. We sang our hearts out in the ground but the same cannot be said for the the Coach and Horses before, the scene of a famous sing song with Deano, surrounded by arabs, bananas and even a pig! Thankfully that was the only flat performance of the whole day as town notched up another win that sent us to play off glory.
A new ground for many town fans, Wycombe was another great performance, we were really being spoilt away from home. Over a 1000 town fans, including Sir Andy Booth and the Millbridge Pikey crew as they like to be known , roared on the town to a 2-1 victory courtesy of great strikes from Rhodes and Robinson who sent many people flying over the foam like advertising boards. 'IF THEO SCORES WE'RE ON THE PITCH' came true for some people that day. To see big groups of away fans getting excited about watching town, dressing up and trying to get an atmosphere going is really good to see. Hopfully the dark days of a 400 away at Wallsall watching Glennon picking the ball out of the net too many times to count are long gone. We also couldn't miss a chance to get another photo with a Town Legend.
In the next part there will be pictures and reports from Brentford and Exeter, games in which we lost but still had a good time.
Tuesday 16 March 2010
Southampton away 2/3/10- Hell on the south coast.
Southampton away was the second in a pair of fixtures that would excite many lower league football fans. Having just come out of a home game with the so called champions of Europe Leeds United and getting a well deserved draw, the next big team game was approached with relish and maybe an element of confidence. Oh how wrong we were.
These are the types of games that we have been wanting to have week in week out for many a year, but after tuesdays debacle we may want to think again, hone our skills and save our fight against the big boys for another season. It wasn't just the performance on the pitch that left a bitter taste but the whole experience of the game, the ills of modern football personified in a soulless big red hell hole.
The away fans were shoehorned into a tiny section of a 30,000 seater stadium that was only two thirds full by kick off. While this tight squeeze did some wonders for the atmosphere, the back seven rows were in fine voice for most of the night, the overzealous stewarding was some of the most bizarre and heavy handed i have ever seen. While Town were failing to hold it on the pitch, the stewards marched up to the top of the stand, intent in killing what was a fairly good away atmosphere. Around 50 to 70 fans were stood singing while a group of four orange drones perched on the steps awaiting the command to pounce on the unruly of west yorkshire. All this from the command of their grand high master, who was only distinguishable by one of those fucking jobs-worth headsets that can only be issued when you graduate from the university of self satisfaction. twat doesn't even do him justice.
So After a few words and the reading of the riot act people started being thrown out for no apparent reason and more worryingly attacked by the growing number of orange drones that were inflaming a situation that had appeared from no where. As the battle of algiers continued on the terrace Lee Clark and his merry men had waved the white flag big time, capitulation and it only took ten minutes. All the battling qualities seen in the past 3 away wins had evaporated and left a slimy residue resembling some kind of town performance.
The Stewards were still piling in, both team and fans were taking a battering as another of footballs modern ills made itself known. After seeing Ricky Lambert destroy defenses from all leagues with headers the last thing you wanted your fucking left back to do was to step back and let the easiest cross to enter the box, putting it on a plate from the top scorer in the league indulge in another goal. Then the money grabbing git rounded the goal and decided to celebrate in the tiny section that housed the battered and the bruised of Huddersfield. Lambert decided to kiss his badge, put a finger to his lips and point to his name. This well rehearsed routine wound me right up, maybe it was a backhanded compliment because he really did want to join us in the summer if only his greedy nature had not got the better of him.
Then it got better as the second top striker Lee Barnard decided to get in on the act and score. How does a club get deducted ten points for going into admin only to spend three million on three players, two of them being the best strikers in the league.
The rest was an embarrassing blur as town lacked any passion, pride or a plan B. I left the ground angry but the worst was the sickening feeling of de ja vu that had appeared. Town play well all season and the expectation level rises accordingly only for it to come to a premature end time and time again. There is always next week though and however negative this blog gets, Hoyle and Clark are taking us in the right direction.
I Fucking hate modern football though...
These are the types of games that we have been wanting to have week in week out for many a year, but after tuesdays debacle we may want to think again, hone our skills and save our fight against the big boys for another season. It wasn't just the performance on the pitch that left a bitter taste but the whole experience of the game, the ills of modern football personified in a soulless big red hell hole.
The away fans were shoehorned into a tiny section of a 30,000 seater stadium that was only two thirds full by kick off. While this tight squeeze did some wonders for the atmosphere, the back seven rows were in fine voice for most of the night, the overzealous stewarding was some of the most bizarre and heavy handed i have ever seen. While Town were failing to hold it on the pitch, the stewards marched up to the top of the stand, intent in killing what was a fairly good away atmosphere. Around 50 to 70 fans were stood singing while a group of four orange drones perched on the steps awaiting the command to pounce on the unruly of west yorkshire. All this from the command of their grand high master, who was only distinguishable by one of those fucking jobs-worth headsets that can only be issued when you graduate from the university of self satisfaction. twat doesn't even do him justice.
So After a few words and the reading of the riot act people started being thrown out for no apparent reason and more worryingly attacked by the growing number of orange drones that were inflaming a situation that had appeared from no where. As the battle of algiers continued on the terrace Lee Clark and his merry men had waved the white flag big time, capitulation and it only took ten minutes. All the battling qualities seen in the past 3 away wins had evaporated and left a slimy residue resembling some kind of town performance.
The Stewards were still piling in, both team and fans were taking a battering as another of footballs modern ills made itself known. After seeing Ricky Lambert destroy defenses from all leagues with headers the last thing you wanted your fucking left back to do was to step back and let the easiest cross to enter the box, putting it on a plate from the top scorer in the league indulge in another goal. Then the money grabbing git rounded the goal and decided to celebrate in the tiny section that housed the battered and the bruised of Huddersfield. Lambert decided to kiss his badge, put a finger to his lips and point to his name. This well rehearsed routine wound me right up, maybe it was a backhanded compliment because he really did want to join us in the summer if only his greedy nature had not got the better of him.
Then it got better as the second top striker Lee Barnard decided to get in on the act and score. How does a club get deducted ten points for going into admin only to spend three million on three players, two of them being the best strikers in the league.
The rest was an embarrassing blur as town lacked any passion, pride or a plan B. I left the ground angry but the worst was the sickening feeling of de ja vu that had appeared. Town play well all season and the expectation level rises accordingly only for it to come to a premature end time and time again. There is always next week though and however negative this blog gets, Hoyle and Clark are taking us in the right direction.
I Fucking hate modern football though...
Friday 12 February 2010
Yeovil Away
Yeovil. Nestled in the rolling hills of Somerset, a town and football ground that has been left behind in the era of all seater, plastic fantastic football. Sounds Fucking marvelous for an away day with the town and it truly was...
Day started at 8am, crawling out of bed and onto Woking to meet my ride to Huish park at 10 am. Que hours of crawling around the concrete jungle that is Woking, waiting for a certain Peckham Terrier. Once he was on board the cans were open and pork pies were out, we hit the road. (Credit to Simon for providing a great spread)
If England had an equivalent of a sunshine state, Somerset would be it. The sun was both a help and hindrance all day as we cruised through the fields on relatively picturesque trip, which included a sighting of Stonehenge, (one for the history fans!).
So we arrived and parked in and amongst the array of Car and Tractor garages that seemed to sprout up from every direction around the ground. Captain Sensible Chris then decides to boot a town quality training ball from the boot of Simons car into a massive fenced off waste land. Good one. Using a tree as a pole to climb up, the ball is retrieved and Chris escapes with some meaty looking cuts for his trouble. It was becoming an eventful one already....
Just as the ball was rescued general and the goons turned up after the pilgrimage from Huddersfield and we set off to try and find a boozer. What we found was a tired looking marquee with an equally tired looking M C who was whipping the locals into such a pre match frenzy, we didn't think we would get out alive. Hours of bad jokes and friendly banter passed along with a few pints and then it was time for kick off. We left what looked like the recpetion to the wedding from green and white hell and heading to the open Terrace, hope in our hearts, doubts in our heads!
It was great being on a terrace again and the swiggers bus turned up full of songs and many a bleary eye. They were fantastic all afternoon. Yeovil was quite a welcoming place, they even left fake flowers in the pissers, a first at any football game for me. Sadly Smithies didn't want any of the flowers the we offered him in the warm up, strange that?
The game kicked off with three debutants in the side, all performing well except Trottman who looked rather shakey and behind play at time. Eccelstone popped up to score in the 25 minute after some encouraging build up play in the early stages. Rhodes and Roberts were linking up well, with Tom Clarke offering a bit of steel in the middle of the park. After the goal, every time Eccelstone received the ball there was a murmur of excitement among the crowd and was being affectionally called Bernie lad, great nickname!
The Second half started, with Yeovil being more wasteful than ever. That penalty miss in the first half was truly impressive! Clark talked about the team needing to grind out the results, especially away from home and this was a perfect example. Scrappiness was a definite buzz word for this encounter.
The performance on the pitch might not of been quality but in terraces it certainly was. With a small contingent of fans singing all game and lifting the atmosphere so much that the moaning from the others was barely audible.
the chant WE'RE ALL MAD, WE'RE ROUND THE BEND, NO ONE TAKES THE COWSHED END, sang about 600000 times will live in the memory. It was good to get the scarf twirling round overhead and really get behind the team.
Full time came as a relief, both for three points and the fact that many pairs of feet were starting to Freeze. The sun had gone down but spirits were defiantly up. Town had won away for only the third time this season and the sweet taste of victory lasted long on the way back to the big smoke.
Could it be our year?
credit to Simon for driving and photography.
Day started at 8am, crawling out of bed and onto Woking to meet my ride to Huish park at 10 am. Que hours of crawling around the concrete jungle that is Woking, waiting for a certain Peckham Terrier. Once he was on board the cans were open and pork pies were out, we hit the road. (Credit to Simon for providing a great spread)
If England had an equivalent of a sunshine state, Somerset would be it. The sun was both a help and hindrance all day as we cruised through the fields on relatively picturesque trip, which included a sighting of Stonehenge, (one for the history fans!).
So we arrived and parked in and amongst the array of Car and Tractor garages that seemed to sprout up from every direction around the ground. Captain Sensible Chris then decides to boot a town quality training ball from the boot of Simons car into a massive fenced off waste land. Good one. Using a tree as a pole to climb up, the ball is retrieved and Chris escapes with some meaty looking cuts for his trouble. It was becoming an eventful one already....
Just as the ball was rescued general and the goons turned up after the pilgrimage from Huddersfield and we set off to try and find a boozer. What we found was a tired looking marquee with an equally tired looking M C who was whipping the locals into such a pre match frenzy, we didn't think we would get out alive. Hours of bad jokes and friendly banter passed along with a few pints and then it was time for kick off. We left what looked like the recpetion to the wedding from green and white hell and heading to the open Terrace, hope in our hearts, doubts in our heads!
It was great being on a terrace again and the swiggers bus turned up full of songs and many a bleary eye. They were fantastic all afternoon. Yeovil was quite a welcoming place, they even left fake flowers in the pissers, a first at any football game for me. Sadly Smithies didn't want any of the flowers the we offered him in the warm up, strange that?
The game kicked off with three debutants in the side, all performing well except Trottman who looked rather shakey and behind play at time. Eccelstone popped up to score in the 25 minute after some encouraging build up play in the early stages. Rhodes and Roberts were linking up well, with Tom Clarke offering a bit of steel in the middle of the park. After the goal, every time Eccelstone received the ball there was a murmur of excitement among the crowd and was being affectionally called Bernie lad, great nickname!
The Second half started, with Yeovil being more wasteful than ever. That penalty miss in the first half was truly impressive! Clark talked about the team needing to grind out the results, especially away from home and this was a perfect example. Scrappiness was a definite buzz word for this encounter.
The performance on the pitch might not of been quality but in terraces it certainly was. With a small contingent of fans singing all game and lifting the atmosphere so much that the moaning from the others was barely audible.
the chant WE'RE ALL MAD, WE'RE ROUND THE BEND, NO ONE TAKES THE COWSHED END, sang about 600000 times will live in the memory. It was good to get the scarf twirling round overhead and really get behind the team.
Full time came as a relief, both for three points and the fact that many pairs of feet were starting to Freeze. The sun had gone down but spirits were defiantly up. Town had won away for only the third time this season and the sweet taste of victory lasted long on the way back to the big smoke.
Could it be our year?
credit to Simon for driving and photography.
Friday 29 January 2010
Bristol Rovers (H) - 19/1/10
Drove four hours, sat there, this game sort of happened and then went back to London. £80 well spent?
Thursday 28 January 2010
Pre-match Excitment: Yeovil
So, after a long absence, Town are back on the road with a trip to rural Yeovil! Its a long journey for us Londerners let alone the rest of the Terriers heading down from the north to contend with. After the break from our away day woes of this season, I feel there is a refereshed positive attitude for the rest of the years travelling. Impressive signings have been made in key areas which were costing us in the past and now we look a more solid unit, but you know what town are like...
I can't wait to be back on the terracing again. Even without a roof the atmosphere could still be impressive and a good start to 2010 away with a win can lift the spirits once again. For people who have never been its a definate experience, last year was truly horrid, it pissing it down all evening. Not fun in an open terrace. Town fans turned up in fancy dress, awaiting the arrival of Pilkington and Ainsworth. Both high spirits and high skill were severely dampened.The beast of bad away play can hopfully be put to rest and the south can yield some happiness to the ranks of town fan fans for once.
Only 2 more sleeps...
I can't wait to be back on the terracing again. Even without a roof the atmosphere could still be impressive and a good start to 2010 away with a win can lift the spirits once again. For people who have never been its a definate experience, last year was truly horrid, it pissing it down all evening. Not fun in an open terrace. Town fans turned up in fancy dress, awaiting the arrival of Pilkington and Ainsworth. Both high spirits and high skill were severely dampened.The beast of bad away play can hopfully be put to rest and the south can yield some happiness to the ranks of town fan fans for once.
Only 2 more sleeps...
Tuesday 12 January 2010
Fanzine Article - University in London with Huddersfield Town
Huddersfield, a town famous for numerous things including textiles, the birthplace of rugby league and even a prime minister. It is also famous for being the home of the first team to become thrice first division champions back in the heady days of the 1920s. These are honourable and well-known facts are they not? Not so in the murky lands that we call ‘down south’.
I, like many eighteen year olds embarked on a three year course at University around September 2008. I was lured down the M1 and to the bright lights of the big city to study at Goldsmiths College. A university that was more famous for beautiful art than the beautiful game meant that I wasn’t expecting to be having to many discussions about the fragility of a Clarke/Butler centre back pairing during the coming season!
However, during the coming weeks I met a range of fans of teams from Reading to Torquay and even a lad in a junior Emley shirt at football trials! (that is another story for another time) As the season progressed the inevitable plastics came out, with my mates Rob and Theo flying the flag for Liverpool, even though they both lived in Slough and Tauton respectively, a short 200 mile pilgrimage to Anfield. Nights spent crying into their over priced pints ensued as Liverpool threw away their title ambitions. In between the moans about Gerrard and Kyut I threw my two cents worth in about our woeful performances under Ternent, especially the 4-0 drubbing at Peterbourgh that I attended.
The increase in town shirt wearing around campus and absences from parties because I was stuck in traffic jam on the way back from MK Dons meant people started to take notice. With one friend affectionately calling me Mr Huddersfield.
Suddenly people who didn’t even know where Huddersfield was on a map were taking an interest. Looking out for scores, commenting on signings and even taking the piss out of hero Andy Booth. It was almost like a mission to get Huddersfield Town known and respected within Goldsmiths University had worked, without them or even me knowing.
Then came the day where all the talking and building up of this great club came into action, Leyton Orient away. Last day of the season. I managed to assemble 9 of my mates to come with me and boy what a game to go to.
Reports all week showed that ticket sales were good, with the majority of fans coming down to send off club legend Andy Booth into happy retirement. With my collection of shirts handed out to the boys and bets placed, the trip to east London and the Coach and Horses pub was made.
We walked in a wall of West Yorkshire where the ale and tales of town had been flowing for a good few hours. It was great to see the looks on my mates faces, giving them a chance to witness a slice of Huddersfield town football camaraderie and culture. The exact same reason why I have followed the terriers all over the country and will continue to do so.
After the great atmosphere of the pub my mates were further treated to it again in the stadium, filling the away end with songs and banners celebrating Booty. The match finished 1-1 but walking away from the ground town had won the hearts and minds of my friends. “Town are defiantly my league one team now and your chairman is legend for the free beer, just a shame we didn’t get any,’ chirped up Rob on the train home. Theo also added ‘great game and a great following, can we go and see more games next season?’
So over the course of one academic year I had spread the word of the town far and wide within Goldsmiths more than I ever hoped, even converting some of the fair weather fans. The best bit is they even all hate Leeds now, mission accomplished.
I, like many eighteen year olds embarked on a three year course at University around September 2008. I was lured down the M1 and to the bright lights of the big city to study at Goldsmiths College. A university that was more famous for beautiful art than the beautiful game meant that I wasn’t expecting to be having to many discussions about the fragility of a Clarke/Butler centre back pairing during the coming season!
However, during the coming weeks I met a range of fans of teams from Reading to Torquay and even a lad in a junior Emley shirt at football trials! (that is another story for another time) As the season progressed the inevitable plastics came out, with my mates Rob and Theo flying the flag for Liverpool, even though they both lived in Slough and Tauton respectively, a short 200 mile pilgrimage to Anfield. Nights spent crying into their over priced pints ensued as Liverpool threw away their title ambitions. In between the moans about Gerrard and Kyut I threw my two cents worth in about our woeful performances under Ternent, especially the 4-0 drubbing at Peterbourgh that I attended.
The increase in town shirt wearing around campus and absences from parties because I was stuck in traffic jam on the way back from MK Dons meant people started to take notice. With one friend affectionately calling me Mr Huddersfield.
Suddenly people who didn’t even know where Huddersfield was on a map were taking an interest. Looking out for scores, commenting on signings and even taking the piss out of hero Andy Booth. It was almost like a mission to get Huddersfield Town known and respected within Goldsmiths University had worked, without them or even me knowing.
Then came the day where all the talking and building up of this great club came into action, Leyton Orient away. Last day of the season. I managed to assemble 9 of my mates to come with me and boy what a game to go to.
Reports all week showed that ticket sales were good, with the majority of fans coming down to send off club legend Andy Booth into happy retirement. With my collection of shirts handed out to the boys and bets placed, the trip to east London and the Coach and Horses pub was made.
We walked in a wall of West Yorkshire where the ale and tales of town had been flowing for a good few hours. It was great to see the looks on my mates faces, giving them a chance to witness a slice of Huddersfield town football camaraderie and culture. The exact same reason why I have followed the terriers all over the country and will continue to do so.
After the great atmosphere of the pub my mates were further treated to it again in the stadium, filling the away end with songs and banners celebrating Booty. The match finished 1-1 but walking away from the ground town had won the hearts and minds of my friends. “Town are defiantly my league one team now and your chairman is legend for the free beer, just a shame we didn’t get any,’ chirped up Rob on the train home. Theo also added ‘great game and a great following, can we go and see more games next season?’
So over the course of one academic year I had spread the word of the town far and wide within Goldsmiths more than I ever hoped, even converting some of the fair weather fans. The best bit is they even all hate Leeds now, mission accomplished.
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