Take a trip down Memory Lane, walk past Better Day Alley, swing a left by Wistful Road, then a right by Sentimentality Street, then arrive on Commentary Corner. You have reached your destination: here there be Mann and Motson and more.

Leave a comment

David RS Taylor

We’ve all heard about (or experienced) the ‘Erreà Effect’. Brand new shirt, nice new design, one wash – and minor disaster takes hold. The printing might’ve fallen off; or the badge was at a jaunty angle; or the stitching wilted at the first sign of stress. I never fell foul of this well-worn shirt anecdote, but as we say ciao to our kit partner of the last four seasons, you can’t escape the grumbles.

Yes, Erreà. Nobody’s first choice. Barely a ripple was made when the brand was announced as our new manufacturer before the ‘22/’23 season, a sense of reputation drop-off in the air as we looked to our second consecutive season in the Championship. Now, with United’s ‘25/’26 limping to a flat close, we find ourselves returning to the templated arms of Adidas.

We know them well, of course, having been in partnership with the three stripes for eight years, as we charted a course out of League One and up to ninth in the Premier League. Oddly, though, it feels as if Erreà brought their Italian verve to Bramall Lane for just as long, not the four brief seasons they produced our kits.

Our Adidas shirts first time around were, on the whole, fine. But how many of them can you remember off the top of your head? I’m not asking folk like The Pinch’s own Sam Parry, or Memory Lane nostalgia merchant Andrew Hague, who can both probably reel off the last 30 years of shirts as a terrifying party trick. I mean you, the valued, loyal, emotionally balanced reader. The pink away shirt was nice, as was the all-black, and a couple of the home shirts have some good memories attached to them. Apart from that, though?…

With Erreà, the designs kept coming in a relentless march towards polyester nirvana. Remember the promotion shirt, with gold detailing and the White Rose sitting proudly behind the red and white stripes? What about the yellow away shirt, a retro tribute that would’ve been even more popular had the players that year managed to achieve anything at all? The outstanding black and gold number, and the even better burgundy goalkeeper version? The mad, special edition Chinese New Year releases? The consistently funky, Marmite-opinion-inducing training gear?

Football shirts are big business. I would say way too big. We don’t need a new club shirt each season; we all know the end-stage capitalism of it all, the unrelenting consumption of resources that could either be put to better use elsewhere or shouldn’t have been used at all. The factories producing some of these shirts have sketchy histories, and a quick search online brings up websites offering suspiciously similar kits to ‘official’ collections for a tenth of the price. The mark-ups are disgusting, fans are fleeced and the cycle begins again. And all that’s coming from someone who has for years blissfully ignored the lack of wardrobe space in their home with each new shirt purchase.

The Blades play in red and white stripes, which, while undoubtedly more engaging than a block colour shirt, is difficult to reinvent every 12 months. Yet Erreà managed to provide novelty home and away, from little colour accents creeping along plain stripes, to pared-back badges, to some questionable collar decisions. Then, with away and third choice shirts, there was even more fun to be had.

Fun is the concept that provides the shirt industry’s saving grace. It’s great to anticipate next season’s designs: will they put together an ode to an old favourite? Will they try a completely new colour or style? Am I going to be a medium, large or extra large?

That’s even before mentioning the major role shirts play in the heady effect of football nostalgia, with certain designs inextricably linked to telling seasons or moments. Think of fluorescent green, for instance, and different generations of United fan have their own fond memories. Regardless of shirt quality, Erreà created some great shirts that hold their own despite their tenure coming at a time when the Blades have experienced more ebb than flow, at least compared to the first Adidas era.

This isn’t to pour scorn on Adidas. Far from it: as far as the major sporting brands go, they’re by far the most inventive, and I’m looking forward to seeing what new tricks and design updates they have for us. A personal wish is to see a good range of subtle streetwear pieces, something that I think has been lacking at United for years. But when you watch the snazzy announcement videos and walk into the newly-bedecked ‘superstore’, spare a moment to remember the last few years, when a smaller brand got the gig and gave it a good go.

Badges dropping off and threads falling apart be damned. For four seasons, when it came to having fun with what we wore, we truly enjoyed La Dolce Shirta. Grazie, Erreà.

Cutting a squad is easy in theory, until you actually start doing it and realise it’s actually quite hard, in theory. In Part Two, Sam, David and Riley turn to the contracted core of Sheffield United and ask the uncomfortable questions: who do you build around, who do you cash in on and who simply isn’t worth keeping? From the Sydie Peck dilemma to the Gustavo Hamer debate, this is where the rebuild becomes trickier.

In this episode of Memory Lane, we revisit some of Sheffield United’s most iconic commentary moments: the lines that instantly bring goals, players, and matches flooding back.

Joined by commentator Chris MacMillan, we explore what makes great football commentary before diving into the calls that have defined Blades memories. From unforgettable goals to perfectly delivered one-liners, this is a celebration of the voices behind the moments — mostly, Daniel Mann.

This episode covers Chris’ pick from 14-8. Next week we’ll cover 7-1.

Leave a comment

Chris Wilder has already spoken about cutting 15 players — but when you factor in expiring deals, returning loanees and outgoings, the true scale of Sheffield United’s rebuild is far bigger.

In the first part of this Squad Reset podcast, we’re looking at who is either returning from loan or whose deals are expiring.

On this episode of Hang It in the Louvre, we welcome lifelong Blade David Pendlebury into the Pinch Wing to curate his three defining Sheffield United images. From a wide-eyed first view of Bramall Lane in the late ’80s, to the eerie emptiness of lockdown football and Chris Wilder at his lowest, to one of the most visceral moments in modern Blades history—Basham arriving at Elland Road.

Words: Ben Meakin - Women of Steel

It’s been a season that will likely be remembered as the one where Sheffield United’s owners turned up outside Chris Wilder’s door, flowers in hand and tears streaming down their cheeks, begging please Chris, take us back.

There’s something about football that makes us constantly yearn for the past, to reach for the home comforts of the familiar. To airbrush the grubby bits from history and think fondly about what once was, and what could be again… if only we could get the band back together.

As the season peters out and we creep towards the summer transfer window, minds are naturally beginning to turn towards new signings. In many cases, though, it’s new old signings we’re interested in – is Harry Souttar fit yet? Would Hamza Choudhury take a wage cut? And is James McAtee going to be surplus to requirements at Forest?

There’s something undeniably attractive about the prospect of running it back when you’re looking to make things better. Why take the plunge on something that might not work when we have real evidence of something that does?

Except… does it actually work that way? Recent history is littered with examples of run-it-back loanees who didn’t work out, not to mention players returning for second spells on permanent transfers. There are exceptions, of course. But let’s take a stab at grouping some of these former-ex-Blades together, and seeing what we can learn from them before we start chasing our summer targets.

For the purposes of this article, I’m excluding players who’ve stitched lengthy loan spells together back-to-back – James McAtee, Dean Henderson, etc. Also excluded are players who were loaned and then immediately converted to permanent signings, like Oli Norwood and Danny Webber. They’ll be considered as players who had unbroken spells with United – I’m more interested in what happens when we try and, well, gerremback.

Unfinished business: success

Examples: Billy Sharp (the third time), Aaron Ramsdale, Phil Jagielka, Brian Deane (the second time)

I think all four of these had their Blades days cut short before their prime, and returned later in their careers with various levels of success.

Billy Sharp cemented his status as a club legend (but hold that thought), firing us to multiple promotions and becoming the top-scorer in EFL history. Aaron Ramsdale’s first spell ended with him barely having sniffed the first team; he returned some years later as a Premier League regular, won our player of the season and was promptly flipped for a profit to Arsenal.

Jagielka’s career was still on an upward trajectory when he left for Everton in 2007, as United tumbled out of the top flight (we’ll overlook the, ahem, hand that Jagielka played in that). He returned in his career’s twilight years, but was a solid enough freebie who would play another 50+ Championship games even after he left us a second time.

Brian Deane was re-signed in 1997 and picked up where he’d left off as one of United’s best modern goalscorers. Sadly he was so good that he quickly left again, but it’s hard to say this was anything less than a successful reunion (Deane did later return for a third spell at the tail-end of his career, but barely featured).

Who might fall into this category as a potential signing with unfinished business? A soon-to-be-36-year-old Kyle Walker fits here, although he’ll still be under contract at Burnley. It’s hard to see how we’d be willing to pay enough of his wages that the Clarets would be happy to send him here on loan next season, particularly as they’ll be in the same league – but then I never would’ve envisaged us signing Kalvin Phillips, so who knows.

Unfinished business: flop

Examples: Billy Sharp (the second time), James Beattie, Marcus Bent, Ched Evans

This is where it gets a little messy. The less said about Ched Evans’ reunion with the Blades, the better. But Billy Sharp returned to fanfare having racked up over 50 goals for Scunthorpe, and it subsequently took him eight months to get off the mark in his second Blades stint. Less than 18 months later, he was loaned to Doncaster and eventually sold.

James Beattie was so good that he still finished as our top scorer in 2008/09, despite being sold in January. A return less than three years later – in League One – seemed like it would be a winner.

Not so much. Beattie copped a straight red for putting a Charlton player in a chokehold mere minutes after coming off the bench, missed an open goal in a mood-altering loss at MK Dons in the days after the Ched Evans conviction, and signed off with another straight red at Exeter on the final day of the season, ruling him out of the playoffs and ensuring his second spell ended goalless. Yikes.

Finally, Marcus Bent had an electric start to his Blades career in 1999, scoring 13 goals in three months and convincing Blackburn to shell out £2m for him barely a year after United had bought him for less than a fifth of that fee. His return eleven years later was slightly bizarre at the time, and he made 10 goalless appearances before United – who were relegated – sent him back to Birmingham.

It seems a bit unfair to project a future returning signing to be a flop, but let’s get creative. Oli McBurnie has had a good season for Hull and feels ripe for a classic Sheffield United emotional overpay to bring him “home”, only for him to get injured in October and miss three months of the season.

Tommy Doyle hasn’t pulled up trees at Birmingham but would likely cost a pretty penny – is there a world where we make good money on Sydie Peck and promptly blow it on a slightly inferior replacement? Recent history has at least put it on my radar.

I don’t want to write this one, but seeing as it’s staring us in the face, there’s another Birmingham player that Chris Wilder loved enough to make captain, before that pesky Ruben Sellés shipped him out. Jack Robinson reunion, anyone?

The returning favourite AKA be careful what you wish for

Examples: John Brayford, Ben Brereton Diaz, Wayne Quinn, Jon Harley

The distinction between this and the above category is that these are players who were here for a relatively brief spell, saw their popularity among Blades fans soar, and had us pining for a return. When that return eventually happened… it wasn’t as good as we’d hoped.

Brayford was probably the most-loved player in red and white during a loan spell that saw us rise from the doldrums of the League One relegation zone to a playoff charge and an FA Cup semifinal. “The Beard” went on an all-out charm offensive upon signing, and us fans, wallowing in a few years of third-tier misery, lapped it up.

Re-signing him the following season seemed like a rare case of giving the people what they want – until it became apparent that we’d, incredibly, spent something like £2m to do so, while still scuffling around in League One.

Brayford was… okay in this second spell, but the magic had gone. The team struggled to evolve under Nigel Clough, and spending millions on an(other) right-back began to look like a colossal waste of resources. The denouement was no fault of Brayford’s: he picked up a bad injury filling in at centre-back in the playoffs, and barely played for us again. But it also laid bare some muddled thinking at board level, of investing many eggs in one right-back-shaped, admittedly handsome, bearded basket.

Ben Brereton Diaz should have been a home run returnee: an electric counterattacker in our pitiful Premier League season, he looked tailor-made to do the same for us in the league below. Sadly, not so much, as he was half the player who’d sparkled 12 months previously at a higher level – with a brief cameo in the playoff final serving as a brutal full stop.

Two players who had bigger gaps between spells were a pair of left-backs: Wayne Quinn and Jon Harley. Academy product Quinn was electric in his debut campaign in 1997/98, earning an England B call-up and getting snapped up by Newcastle. A few years later he was loaned back to the Blades, but made only six unmemorable appearances before dropping out of professional football altogether at the age of 28.

Harley’s loan spell from Fulham was well-received and we spent the next few years desperately hoping to get him back; he eventually joined on a free transfer but was a mediocre part of an unlovely Neil Warnock side that fell between the highs of 2002/03 and 2006/07.

Who is destined for an unfulfilling Blades reunion this summer? Hamza Choudhury’s stock among Blades fans was heightened by his ability to look like a competent if prosaic right-back during a loan spell where he was ostensibly brought in to play defensive midfield – I’m braced for a bland second stint in the wake of a Femi Seriki sale.

But to commit fully to the spirit of this section, let’s pick out a true Blades favourite where the only question is if he can still do it at his age. Oli Norwood has been stellar in League One and may be playing second-tier football with Stockport anyway next season, but there’s only one proper answer. Come back David McGoldrick – what can go wrong?

Do you remember the first time?

Examples: John Egan, Neill Collins

Weirdly, this category has a good hit rate, albeit a low sample size: players who you can barely remember their first spell, who returned a few years later to relative success.

John Egan played a single game for us in March 2012 as an emergency loanee; kudos to you if you were in attendance for that particular away loss to Walsall. Six years later he would become the club’s record signing, a key part in our promotion to (and survival in) the Premier League, and one of the most popular players of recent years.

Neill Collins’ Blades career never reached the highs of its first time, where he started in a 2-1 win at Hillsborough less than 48 hours after joining on loan in 2006. All the same, Collins did go on to make over 200 appearances for United, arguably shepherding Harry Maguire through the early stages of his career and playing at Wembley twice. Possibly a player who would be more fondly-regarded had we not botched that 2011/12 season.

Giving you a list of players you can barely remember is a bit of a contradiction (although it didn’t stop the excellent Memory Lane podcast giving it a go recently), but here’s a couple of names that might fit as returnees. Regan Slater and Ben Whiteman seem obvious ones, having barely scratched the first team for United as youth players but gone on to forge decent Championship careers at Hull and Preston.

Centre-back Ben Davies is out of contract at Rangers this summer, after spending two seasons on loan to Championship clubs. And would former long-time Wilder target Ryan Leonard be available if Millwall go up?

Bonus round: managers

Examples: Chris Wilder, Paul Heckingbottom

I’ll wrap this up by going full circle, much like Sheffield United’s owners. Arguably this is where the whole gerremback culture starts for this club: we just can’t quit ‘em.

Wilder’s three spells are well-documented enough that I won’t waste many words on them, but it’s easy to forget that Paul Heckingbottom was also an interim boss in the death throes of the 2020/21 lockdown season before getting the job permanently after Slavisa Jokanović’s sacking.

Heckingbottom’s succession by the man he replaced makes for a bizarre streak of Blades managers, where five of the last seven bosses have been either Chris Wilder or Paul Heckingbottom. That means that over the last 10 years, more than 94% of all Sheffield United games have had one of those two in the dugout. So much for familiarity breeding contempt.

Who’s next, though? United have been a pretty unserious club for a while now, so it’s not hard to envision Wilder getting canned (again) in the next 12 months and returning (again) shortly after.

But in a world where a 78-year-old Roy Hodgson can return to where it all started for him 42 years later, let’s fast-forward to the year 2041, and the grand unveiling of Sheffield United’s new old manager: Steve Bruce.

David’s back: hooray.

The Blades’ season is cooked: boo.

In the latest Formline pod we review the Easter weekend and take stock of where Sheffield United are right now. We get into the full-back situation, what’s working (and what isn’t), and dig into a strange pattern — why United look so comfortable at 0-0 but struggle when ahead.

In this episode of Memory Lane, Ben Meakin joins Andrew and Sam to revisit Sheffield United’s infamous FA Cup tie with Arsenal, and the extraordinary (literally) decision to replay the game.

From Kanu’s controversial goal to Arsène Wenger’s and David Dean’s offer to do it all again, we unpack the fallout of a true “you’ll never sing that” moment.

Leave a comment

Words: Joel Beighton

Football doesn’t hit me like it used to.

The sheer excitement, bordering on fear before big games. Night matches with real edge. Games where there was a genuine sense of jeopardy, and packed away ends that somehow felt fuller than was humanly possible.

Part of it is age, part of it is the direction football has taken. But when I look back on my time as a Blade, one thread stands out more than the rest. My own growth from child to adult has mirrored what I’ve experienced following Sheffield United.

I started going to games in 1997, aged seven. My first was a 0–0 draw against Birmingham City. I remember being wide-eyed, slightly confused by the constant noise around me, shouting and singing from all directions. I don’t remember the game itself, which probably isn’t surprising given the result. In some ways it was fitting. It set the tone for what the next thirty years would hold.

Those early years came at a time when Bramall Lane was quieter than it is now. Around 16,000 most weeks. Bigger games might push into the mid-twenties, but those were real occasions. My dad and I sat on John Street, with a perfect view of the away end, watching opposition fans spill in and take over that part of the ground. It doesn’t feel the same now, even with more people in attendance. Maybe it’s familiarity. Maybe it’s something else.

Not long after I started going, the first real crack appeared. The FA Cup semi-final against Newcastle United, at Old Trafford. My first game away from Bramall Lane. Coaches leaving from Rotherham town centre, packed with Blades. The Trafford Centre looming in the distance, someone joking that we may as well be back at Meadowhall. A pub beforehand, rammed beyond capacity, the sound of “We are Bladesmen…” ringing out on repeat.

I persuaded my dad to buy me one of those cheap flags on a pole on the walk to the ground. I waved it constantly, in time with the almost omnipresent “We are Bladesmen…”. Then Shearer scores and the rest of the game drifts by. No equaliser. Final whistle. I cry. It wasn’t meant to happen like that. It’s the first time I remember football doing that to me.

After that came something different. More than anything else, mediocrity and boredom. The following seasons blur together. Players in and out. Managers in and out, Steve Bruce, Adrian Heath, early Warnock. Nothing quite sticks. The emotional highs and lows are replaced by something flatter. Football becomes something that just happens. A ritual without much reward.

Then, unexpectedly, it all comes back. The West Brom game in 2002. I’m nearly twelve. Chaos, controversy, something I won’t try to retell because anyone reading this already knows what happened. But it gave me my first proper taste of drama, albeit in bizarre circumstances, of football as something unpredictable and all-consuming again. It reignited something that had gone quiet.

What followed was everything you could want as a fan. Late wins against Leeds and Forest. Liverpool at home. A derby under the lights, Michael Brown’s goal, the noise almost overwhelming. The FA Cup run, the semi-final, David Seaman somehow keeping Peschisolido’s effort out. And then the play-off final against Wolves. The inevitable twist. The lesson that being a Blade always comes with a price tag of something going wrong.

And then, finally, the release. Promotion to the Premier League. I’m sixteen. A group of mates all going together, home and away. The buzz of trying to get served for a pint and sometimes succeeding. Football becomes the centre of everything. The only thing that really matters.

It feels like the start of something. It isn’t.

At Wigan, just before Christmas, it all shifts. We’re in the away end after a Rob Hulse winner, confident and singing tongue-in-cheek songs about going on a European tour. Before we know it, it is Wigan again at Bramall Lane, the last game of the season. Nobody can really see a way we go down from here. Too much would have to go wrong. And then it does. West Ham win at Old Trafford. We lose. Relegation.

I’d just turned seventeen. I think that was the last time I felt anything like pure, childlike excitement and naivety watching United. Not just because we went down, but because something else went with it. The sense that things would work out, or at least that they might.

After that, it’s different. Cynicism creeps in. It becomes easier to expect the worst than hope for the best. More play-off defeats. A drop to League One. Things I never really thought I’d see. You adjust. You carry on. But something has changed.

There have been very good times since. Chris Wilder. Paul Heckingbottom. Moments where it feels like it’s back, where everything aligns again.

But it’s never quite the same. It doesn’t carry the same weight it once did. Not like those early nights under the lights, when everything felt bigger than it should have.

I think that’s what’s gone. Not the football itself, but the feeling that it mattered more than anything else in the world.

Football fans are often seen as childish. Maybe that’s part of it. An attempt to keep going back, hoping to feel it like we did at the start.

I sometimes wonder what it feels like being seventeen today. Do the unexpected moments land in the same way, or does a culture where everything is seen and shared so quickly take the edge away? Does football still mean the world?

Leave a comment

Part Two of our Q&A special with the LEGENDS Ben Meakin and Andrew Hague.

We dig into Chris Wilder’s future, long-term planning, recruitment strategy, and whether United should stick with stability or take a bigger swing - plus the usual tangents along the way.

Thanks as ever for listening!

Oh, and if you don’t already, sign up to Ben’s Substack here:

Women of Steel

Covering Sheffield United Women in 2023/24 and beyond.

By Ben Meakin

In this episode of Memory Lane, Andrew, Sam and David dive into the world of Sheffield United players you may have forgotten ever played for the club.

From brief loans and reserve appearances to names that barely registered at the time, we each build our own XIs and try to settle on the most forgettable Blades players of the modern era.

Leave a comment

First off, we’ve not recorded Part Two yet — so if you’ve got any questions, drop them in the comments, on Twitter, or by replying to any Pinch email.

Leave a comment

In Part One of our Q&A special, we’re joined by Ben Meakin and Andrew Hague to tackle your questions… but also some of mine (Sam). We traverse the expected: Chris Wilder’s future and all-round long-term strategy, and the unexpected: air fryer chat and Mount Fuji hypotheticals.

Part Two will likely be a little longer. As you may notice, there’s some patchy audio towards the end where Andrew briefly turns into a Dalek or, if you prefer, a RoyBot. So we cut this one a touch short.

Thanks as ever for listening!

In this episode of Memory Lane, we take a nostalgic trip through the history of Sheffield United shirt sponsors from Cantor’s and Arnold Laver to the bizarre and short-lived deals along the way.

Joined by David Beeden (Deadbat), we explore United’s early role in football sponsorship, the 27 brands to feature on the shirt, and the stories behind them. Of course, DB’s only gone and done us a quiz to kick it all off…

Let us know your memories in the comments.

Leave a comment

Riley Roberts

Adam Davies - 5

Going to once again give Adam Davies the benefit of the doubt and say that the goals conceded fall more on the people in front of him than the goalkeeper himself.

Ki-Jana Hoever - 3

Arrived in a lot of good attacking positions in the first half but lacked the end product required, before cheaply conceding possession and being caught out defensively on a number of occasions in our own half.

Japhet Tanganga - 4

Got the better of Sam Smith as Wrexham looked to hit the target man a lot, but then lost Smith for the winning goal as he pretty much just breezed past him.

Tyler Bindon - 4

Also struggled in the big moments as it was practically the defensive unit who were in some way or another below expectations for Wrexham’s equaliser.

Harrison Burrows - 4

Was caught off balance for the Wrexham equaliser, which was ultimately his biggest contribution to the game despite looking pretty threatening in the first 45 when United were on top.

Jairo Riedewald - 6

Again was subbed off and again we dropped points after that change. Riedewald’s game itself was fairly unremarkable, though it probably is not a coincidence at this point that we tend to lose control of the game once he goes off.

Sydie Peck - 4

Not his day really despite having some nice passes in the first half, with a couple of poor touches and slow reactions to loose and second balls summing up a below par afternoon.

Andre Brooks - 7

Got our goal and always looked dangerous on the ball. He had lots of nice touches in and around the penalty area and when he gets going with the ball at his feet he is always hard to stop.

Callum O’Hare - 5

A mixed bag as he was simultaneously a key part of the play that allowed us to frequently get into good positions, but also showed an inability to finish those opportunities.

Gustavo Hamer - 6

Receives a slightly better rating than O’Hare as he too was involved in a lot of lovely football in and around the box, though he himself did not really squander any opportunities.

Patrick Bamford - 4

Similarly to the two players preceding him here, Bamford had a lot to like about his game, but the most notable thing about his performance was a horror miss just 11 minutes in.

Average rating - 4.73

Ratings system:

• 0 – Reserved for anyone who has a wayward effort at goal smash me in the face, unlikely to ever happen.

• 1 – Worst of the worst. Saved for disastrous performances, with result-altering mistakes.

• 2 – A terrible performance. Performances where a player offers very little and has many unsuccessful actions, ultimately proving to be a major detriment to the team’s overall performance.

• 3 – A bad performance. Negative contribution. Like a 2, just a bit less rubbish.

• 4 – A below-average performance. Not necessarily having a negative impact on the game; it could just be a player who struggled to impact the game at all.

• 5 – The baseline rating. All players go into a game starting on a 5 — it’s bang average, given out for an unremarkable yet solid performance, for a postman delivering the post.

• 6 – A decent performance. A player who gets a 6 has positively contributed to the game, and at the very least has had some impressive moments while being generally solid outside of them.

• 7 – A good performance. Awarded for players who had a noticeable positive impact on the game.

• 8 – A very good performance. A player who made significant contributions to the outcome of the game with their performance and consistently displayed a high level throughout.

• 9 – An outstanding performance. To score as high as a 9, a player needs to be dominant throughout the match, performing at a level well above the standard and/or making multiple game-changing contributions.

• 10 – A perfect 10, unlikely to ever see the light of day as nobody has a flawless game. For me to even think about giving out a 10 it would probably have to be a player doing something historic or unheard of.

Leave a comment

Tyrone James:

I started writing away day blogs as a way to collect the photos I’d taken along the way. Those photos tried to capture both the emotion and the banality of following United home and away, and the writing slowly became something more cathartic—because supporting this club isn’t exactly the easiest hobby. The response, though, has always been amazing. So I’m glad to keep writing about something I love: Sheffield United.

This column won’t be one thing or another. Sam said there doesn’t have to be a theme, but I’ll run with a sensible one. As a very famous person once said: “Let’s start at the very beginning; it’s a very good place to start.”

I’d like to take you back to the very first home game I (properly) remember, and of course I’d be remiss not to talk about my first away game too.

And to begin, I need to make a confession. I come from a family of Sheffield Wednesday fans. That’s not unusual growing up in the northern end of Sheffield. However, my dad — the real football-mad member of the family — is actually a Liverpool supporter.

As tends to be the case with dads and lads, he tried to ensure that my ‘forever club’ would be the Reds. He nearly succeeded, at least for the first few years of my life (Helen, if you’re reading this, please burn that photograph of me in a Crown Paints Liverpool shirt that you’re keeping for blackmail purposes).

The first few years of my life were spent going to Anfield when Liverpool were at home, and then Bramall Lane when Liverpool were away.

Why the Lane? Well, given my contrary nature, I refused to follow the rest of the family, I didn’t like Hillsborough, and I’d just couldn’t see myself ever supporting them. United just felt right.

I don’t remember much about my first United home game, but I do remember it was against Liverpool (shock) and I also remember just looking around the old ground, taking it all in, the noise was deafening, and I just somehow felt completely at home.

The date of that game was the 25th August 1990. United lost 3–1. Which, in hindsight, was a very good introduction to supporting this wonderfully infuriating football club.

My first real away game came much later: Saturday 16th February 2002, Grimsby Town v Sheffield United. There may have been earlier trips, but this was the first proper one. Just me, my mates, and the train. An early start from Meadowhall to Cleethorpes and I remember the train journey being pretty eventful, as one of us had boarded without a ticket and had no money on him. That was fun, and expensive.

United lost the game 1-0. However…

*Worth watching for a classic freekick

…Me and my mates won.

We beat a group of Mariners fans on the beach before the game. Jumpers for goalposts, freezing our bits off, playing in our socks, and generally having a lovely time, before the flyaway ball disappeared into the North Sea.

I also won a Toy Story alien prize on the grabber machine in the amusements after. It’s the small wins.

I haven’t missed many away games since, even though they look a lot different these days. For a start, the group of people I go with is a lot different. No better or worse, just different. I also don’t partake in alcohol as much these days, so I tend to spend hundreds of hours a year driving up and down the many concrete arteries of England and Wales. One thing hasn’t changed though, I’m absolutely hooked.

So there we go. Nice to meet you. Take a seat, strap in, it’s going to be a bumpy ride.

You can find Tyrone’s Substack here:

Tyrone James

The not-so Secret Diary of an Away Day Blade, aged 39¾.

Have things actually dipped, or just feel like they have?

Sam and Riley dig into the numbers behind the last 10 games, where results have improved (really!?) but underlying performances tell a more complicated story. From being outshot regularly to conceding too many chances, we explore whether this is a genuine drop-off or just regression to the mean.

There’s also a look at tactical shifts under Wilder, whether a more possession-heavy approach is helping or hurting, and if January signings hint at a longer-term change in direction.

Plus, we answer a couple of your listener questions — and tease a Q&A special next week with a very special guest.

Thanks for all your questions: we answered a couple and will be answering the rest next week in a Q&A special with an appropriately special guest.

Freelance football commentator Chris MacMillan joins us in the Pinch wing to nominate three Sheffield United images for eternity: a childhood Brian Deane celebration, the agony of Seaman’s save, and David Brooks humiliating Jack Hunt at Hillsborough.

Which moment deserves to hang in the Louvre?

Riley Roberts

Adam Davies - 5

Think a better keeper stops the free kick that found the net, but he made some big interventions at times in the rest of the game, even claiming a few crosses with ease.

Femi Seriki - 2

Had one or two forays up the pitch before being sent off after a harsh red.

Japhet Tanganga - 7

Faced a heavy workload as we looked to hold onto a point with 10, but he was resilient and was often on hand to snuff out the danger when Birmingham piled forwards.

Tyler Bindon - 8

Likewise, Bindon kept up a good run of form, with his sense of positioning proving to be a key attribute once again, with crosses into the box often thumped away by the Kiwi.

Harrison Burrows - 7

Set up the goal with a nice ball forwards and was pretty solid defensively for an all round good performance.

Jairo Riedewald - 5

Did his job in the middle of the park without much fuss or spotlight. No complaints.

Sydie Peck - 3

Struggled to really have an impact on the game after taking a really poor penalty. Not a day to remember.

Andre Brooks - 6

No Seriki meant no party, at least in attack, but Brooks has proven that he can help the team out in more than one way, and his work rate and tracking back was certainly a big help when playing with 10.

Callum O’Hare - 4

Took a poor touch early on in the box after being found by Burrows but was fairly anonymous after the red card, which isn’t at all his fault, but meant he did very little in the game.

Danny Ings - N/A

Came in for a first league start since December and was taken off after 25 minutes. Incredibly unfortunate and certainly not possible to grade.

Patrick Bamford - 7

Got the equaliser after rounding Beadle and maybe should have done better with a headed chance a few minutes prior, though it is hard to fault his performance too much.

Subs:

Ki-Jana Hoever - 6

Replaced Ings early on and did well in a tough environment, with the highlight probably being a late pass that looked to have released Cannon one on one before the offside flag was raised against the forward.

Average rating - 5.45

Ratings system:

• 0 – Reserved for anyone who has a wayward effort at goal smash me in the face, unlikely to ever happen.

• 1 – Worst of the worst. Saved for disastrous performances, with result-altering mistakes.

• 2 – A terrible performance. Performances where a player offers very little and has many unsuccessful actions, ultimately proving to be a major detriment to the team’s overall performance.

• 3 – A bad performance. Negative contribution. Like a 2, just a bit less rubbish.

• 4 – A below-average performance. Not necessarily having a negative impact on the game; it could just be a player who struggled to impact the game at all.

• 5 – The baseline rating. All players go into a game starting on a 5 — it’s bang average, given out for an unremarkable yet solid performance, for a postman delivering the post.

• 6 – A decent performance. A player who gets a 6 has positively contributed to the game, and at the very least has had some impressive moments while being generally solid outside of them.

• 7 – A good performance. Awarded for players who had a noticeable positive impact on the game.

• 8 – A very good performance. A player who made significant contributions to the outcome of the game with their performance and consistently displayed a high level throughout.

• 9 – An outstanding performance. To score as high as a 9, a player needs to be dominant throughout the match, performing at a level well above the standard and/or making multiple game-changing contributions.

• 10 – A perfect 10, unlikely to ever see the light of day as nobody has a flawless game. For me to even think about giving out a 10 it would probably have to be a player doing something historic or unheard of.

Leave a comment

David Taylor

Firstly, an admission: I’m worried I might have played a small part in the last two rather disheartening matches. Full of encouragement that we were keeping pace with those above us vying for sixth spot, and eyeing a chance of losing at Wembley again, I finished an episode of The Pinch Podcast with a glib line about winning our next three games, starting with West Bromwich Albion. I wasn’t being serious, but the football gods seemingly listened and laughed.

Two deeply disappointing results. An uninspired 1-1 draw against a poor West Brom and a 2-1 away loss to Norwich after taking the lead and retreating like a hermit crab (our centrebacks notwithstanding). Post-match postmortems are never the cheeriest of exercises after a bad game, but these two, in the context of keeping our season going after such a great recovery and other teams somehow conspiring to keep us in the fight, were particularly difficult to brush off.

I’m certainly not going to try to dissect the 25/26 season in this piece – not when there are still games left to play. But it feels like we all need a quick reminder that jumping to conclusions is more likely to end with a tweaked hamstring than any notable insight.

While walking out of the ground at full time and doomscrolling social media on the way home, I’ve heard and read a phonebook of reasons reeled off for our recent performances. Players letting themselves down with insipid showings; a lack of leadership; overly-cautious tactics and sub-par team talks; disastrous recruitment across (and from) the board. Any and all of these things might be true – I’m inclined to think so. But in our world of black and white ‘hot takes’, where Arsenal Fan TV and Mark Goldbridge seem to have become the framework for successful fan opinion and Jamie O’Hara continues to forge a career in punditry, the number of people blaming a singular thing for our woes and ignoring the rest has been baffling to see.

It can’t be good for us: the rollercoaster of ecstasy and disaster, joy and fury. But don’t worry, as multiple things can be true at once. Take Chris Wilder, for instance. You can celebrate his victories, that he saved Sheffield United from another decade of lower league anonymity (and perhaps worse), while acknowledging that he’s not an infallible football management automaton. We earned 92 points last season through being disciplined, scoring the decisive goal and becoming dab hands in ‘game management’. Yet, we fell short, and this year, with a worse overall squad thanks to some confusing recruitment, the fine margins we thrived on last time out have turned against our favour and there’s a hint of stubbornness when it comes to adapting to this.

Then again, we’ve ultimately survived a grotesquely awful start to the season quite comfortably, and we have the team and re-ordained manager to thank for that. Players will come and go in summer and hopefully lead us to a better set-up. The owners have learnt a tough lesson. See? Multiple things.

As those who sit around me at home matches know all too well, it can be hard for anyone to retain a degree of calm when the team you support isn’t playing the way you know it can. The trick is to find your place in the grey zone – where various elements are at play, where an individual performance can combine with a drop in team solidity and a bad refereeing decision. Those continuous skirmishes between the acolytes of Chris the Redeemer and the rabid Never-Wilders attest to a wider, creeping mindset that can’t navigate uncertainty, that needs someone or something to be at ultimate fault.

The men’s first team is in a bit of a grey zone itself right now. The players will be having doubts about our chances of success, but they’re not on the beach yet. Pessimists (or as they’d call themselves, realists) have made peace with mid-table, but others still think we can clamber our way to sixth. When people say it’s the hope that kills you, they’re meaning the fallout. With our history, that should be water off a duck’s back by now.

So, try not to flip between the end of your tether and cloud nine; don’t find yourself saying “season’s over” one day and “we’re so back” the next. The grey zone is nothing to fear.

On the other hand, if we beat Birmingham tomorrow, I tip us to go up.

Leave a comment