Tom Ackroyd: This piece is inspired by the recent Phil Ridley article about the simple joys of a win. I took the title from this line: “But last night was different, for me at least. It reminded me of being a kid again.”
I saw today’s game through that lens. I saw how a kid (or kids, in this case) can enjoy or endure a game at Bramall Lane.
First, a bit of context. I’m a fairly regular match-going Blade who, apart from three years at uni beginning with the Triple Assault season, has never lived in Sheffield. I grew up near Wolverhampton (yes, Cardiff 2003 was doubly horrific for me) and I now live just south of Manchester. Who I go to the game with, and therefore where I sit in the ground, differs from match to match.
I’ve got two girls who were both ‘christened’ at Bramall Lane before they reached the age of three:
Izzy (now 9): born the morning of Northampton away. First game: a glorious Premier League win against Burnley (3-0, Lundstram (2) & Fleck).
Zoë (now 6): first game: the mad Blackpool game in the Hecky promotion year (3-3, McAtee, Ndiaye & Norwood).
They’ve generally only known an exciting period of supporting United. In fact, Izzy had an unbeaten record until Wembley (the Sunderland episode). Played 12, won 9, drew 3, lost 0. Izzy was the until-then immovable object that sadly met the unstoppable force that is Sheffield United in the play-offs.
Right now clearly isn’t the best of times to be a Blade in recent history. And yet the girls still troop off to football training at school, or football parties, or holidays, proudly wearing the latest Blades kit. They are surrounded by shirts of Man City, Man Utd, Liverpool, Messi or (pleasingly) an ever-increasing number from Oli Norwood’s Stockport County.
Neither girl has a massive interest in watching United on TV, save for the odd midweek game, clinging on solely to aid bedtime procrastination. Since Covid, watching United on TV has become both increasingly available and increasingly soulless, even when we win. And then afterwards we are all guilty of spending too much time doomscrolling on #twitterblades and dissecting every element of every performance. For many of us, there is limited attachment to individual players given the churn in the squad.
But kids don’t think like this. And nothing beats live football.
Today I took the girls to the Lincoln game. Kits on show at the local station, heading over to Sheffield. Excitement and anticipation on the walk to the ground. They don’t care when the team drops and we see [redacted] is starting yet again.
The girls want to go to the club shop and walk around like, well, kids in a sweet/sports merchandise shop (“£18 for a pair of socks!” my wife exclaimed).
They ask to go and see my dad’s name, their Bompa’s, on the Joe Shaw statue in the car park.
They get to play games in the John Street concourse: ‘Play Your Squad Numbers Right’ and ‘Guess the First Goal’ (“Sydie Peck, 25th minute.” Oh dear, gamble responsibly, sweetheart!). They still love a photo with Captain Blade.
The game was the game. We all watched it. The perspective you get on row C in John Street, by the away fans, is not amazing for judging tactics or a performance, but it was nice to be sat with the girls and not be surrounded by some of the negativity that can drip from the roof of the Kop and South Stand during a first half like that.
This is not a criticism. It was just refreshing to go to a game knowing that, to Izzy and Zoë, the upside is uncapped (they were so excited for each goal) but the downside is almost non-existent.
Just from watching them both, I came out of the ground bursting with pride and joy. This feeling was clearly above and beyond what was proportionate for a win against a promoted team who were very unlucky to be losing at half-time. Yes, of course, a win helps; but I didn’t feel like this after the last-minute win against Bolton. And that’s because, for the first time in a while, being at BDTBL was like being a kid again.
Really nicely written. How I miss those days...
A lovely article and like the song win, loose or draw....we ll still come back for more! Reminds me of 6 years in League one and chatting over coffee and biscuits to cheer ourselves up but united in friendship which we still are 😊 UTB