A Club on the Side

Sheffield United vs. Wolves is always an interesting game for our Contributing Editor

David Taylor

The Blades vs. The Wolves. Sounds feisty.

For me, it’s the big one. The DT Derby. El Davico. Inside me aren’t two wolves, but there’s at least a wolf cub: because Wolverhampton Wanderers are as close to a second English team as I’m legally allowed to claim.

You can blame my mum, a diehard Wolves fan who travelled as a 15-year-old to watch them win the League Cup, but, after marrying into the wonderful* world of Sheffield United, has also been a season ticket holder at Bramall Lane for the last 20 years and a travelling Blade for much longer.

While my personal connection between the clubs is obviously heavily influenced by my ties, the similarities extend beyond today’s league game. Both are proud old clubs: Wolves were founded in 1877 as St Luke’s FC and renamed Wolverhampton Wanderers two years later, a decade before Sheffield United joined the footballing ranks in 1889 – the same year Wolves moved to Molineux. It’s a pretty historic match-up all round, taking place between two of the five teams to have won each of England’s four major football leagues (a firm handshake for anyone who can name the other three).

In terms of their respective fortunes, United and Wolves have both suffered ignominious periods of relegation followed by glorious swift rebirths, something symbolised neatly by a Wolves banner draped across a stand at the beginning of their first third tier match in almost 25 years that read: “This is our love and it knows no division.” They went on to win the league with 103 points, kick-starting a rise back to the Premier League and even European football. As for United, we all know how similar we’ve had it recently, too. Our sixth year in Division One; restoring dominance in the city; within touching distance of Europe ourselves. Even our relegations from the Premier League have mostly been along the same lines: a bit embarrassing. But hey, at least we’re not Wednesday or West Brom.

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The closest there’s been to a rivalry was probably the 2003 Play Off final. After a herculean double header against Forest in the semi final and incredible runs in both cups, hindsight dictates that the final hurdle was going to be a leap too far for the Blades that year, who’d finished four points above Wolves that season, but with a goal difference 17 worse off. United had the lion’s share of possession, but Wolves had the clinical front line, and a penalty miss from Michael Brown (my Lord) early in the second half didn’t help matters.

I remember watching the game as an 11 year old, who had recently moved to Sheffield from South West Scotland with his parents to be nearer family. I’d visited the Lane a handful of times at that point (first match: Grimsby, when Steve Kabba bossed the Blades and was signed very soon thereafter), and grew an immediate affinity, but I was still at the stage where the final was almost a win-win for me. Now, the thought of half and half scarves fills me with fury, but back then I even asked for – and somehow succeeded in getting – half and half wallpaper for my new room that remains to this day, slightly faded but resplendent in all its garish contrast.

While I still like to see Wolves succeed, the scales fell firmly on the red and white side of that room. Two decades of the same season ticket will do that to anyone. United/Wolves matches are a matter of wishing for a close Blades win, and a 1-2 double promotion party or fantasy European trip if they’re in the same league.

It feels neat that the two teams start today next to each other in the table. I’ll be sat in my usual spot as a South Stand aficionado, next to my hybrid fan of a mother, and will sing the Greasy Chip Butty song as loudly as ever. If you look closely, though, you might see me mouthing along to something a bit more Old Gold, just the once. I know, I know – but I’m hoping by now that I have enough credit in the bank for you to let it slide.