Ahh The Memories; Those ‘Moments’…… DWs of the world.

Those ‘Memorable Moments’……… DWs of the world.



There are moments in life that just stand out.  That night I drove 108.5 miles (thanks AA route planner) in driving delugenous rain, with a steadily increasing wind to catch the coach to Blackburn.  It was a memorable night, and even if the rival fans didn’t want to cause problems, which it seemed they didn’t, the police appeared to want a fight.  But I digress, the evening haul had something to do with football.  But amongst that, there we were perched in that tin shed in the sky, which by half time resembled a slash trough at the back of The Gate pub.  The stench was getting worse than that at Biwani Junction in a heat wave.  But I digress, we were there for the football.  The rain was as heavy as the monsoon in Darjeeling, and then the obligatory flare went off.  Actually not only was I fearing asphyxiation but I was also unable to see the slick passing of the boys on the not so perfect conditions.  The steward tried to get us all to evacuate, 2 of us did, but then quickly got back onto the terraces on the lower level.  The corner was awarded, the kick taken, Alcaraz started his run from our goal line and by the time he’d reached the penalty box the ball had arrived, the 2 collided and ‘we were staying up’, but sadly Blackburn were ……….. Ahh the memories …. And the police were still looking to fight even once the game was over.

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DW Madagascar.  Directors box in the distance.

Sometimes you just have to live with your regrets in life.  I was asked if I wanted to make the evening traipse up the M6 for THE Man United game.  To be honest … there was no point, he of little faith, could see no point in another 4 hours motorway driving, getting home at 01.30 only to get up 5 hours later to go to work, wondering why I had put myself in to another time of disappointment and humiliation.  Avoid it if you can, my therapist tells me.  She has since been sacked.  All I got was several texts from my mate, and a photo of the score board.  I have to live with that and it has damaged me, like the dent in the side of your Maserati.

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Euxton training ground, Madagascar.  Pre-played by Wigan warriors.

Wasall the fuss about?  I’ll tell you was all the fuss was about ……. We should have been 3 – 0 up at half time and at full time we were 1 – 1, and nail biting, AGAIN!  It was beginning to look as if we fans are a waste of time.  We were singing our hearts out.  “Oh Yanic Wildshoooot” echoed around the ground like the Kiwis were doing the Haka.  Eventually he shot, it went in and as the commentator said “the fans are going bonkers”; I thought we were back behind the goal at DW South – aka Wembley.  The exuberance was greater than that when I won an Olympic gold medal (except I never have).  The guy behind me was gone quicker than Tim Peakes rocket as he crowd surfed …. And blimey there he was on the pitch being escorted to the nearest van.


DW Darjeeling

It’s an Old’am, but a good ‘un.  One of the reason I go to watch Wigan is the crackin’ good atmosphere we are getting.  Sometimes it makes up for the result, for me, the best so far this season has to be Oldham away where Drummer Boy, like Ginger Baker kept the rhythm for 90 minutes of Depeche Mode ‘I just can’t get enough’.  Just like David Bowie and Nat King Cole ….unforgettable.


Springfield Road, Darjeeling.

Just in case any of you missed it, I thought I‘d just take the chance to mention that Oldham at home and a new pitch was laid specially for me as it was my birthday.  The goal shoot didn’t happen but there was an announcement on the PA for about 15 minutes of half time.   There I was sitting drinking beer in a pub in Walsall and this lad comes up and says, “it were yer birthday last week, wannit”?  How he knew, I don’t know.  I’d tried to keep it low key and quiet, like the plane that flew over the DW before the West Ham game.  Subtle.


Rigolettos Entebbe, Uganda.

We’d spent near on 2 seasons watching variations Coyle-esque  keep it in the air header volleyhoofball when suddenly Gary was announced, who is now the 43rd  longest serving Manager in the whole of the football league and possibly the youngest.  Fulham away was his first game.   His announcement was met with derision and scepticism.  He’d been written off before the team had kicked a ball.  He missed THE penalty (but I reckon rightly took it), he was slow, he’d been injured, he gave the ball away to a Swansea attacker and he’d never managed.  There was no hope and he was clueless, and what’s more he let Boyceee go to Blackpool.  Allegedly.  (He did score an insignificant goal that seems to have been forgotten about – at THE KOP).  But we sang ‘We’re better than viagara, we are staying up’, and Gary had transformed the boys on the pitch into something that resembled football, where for the first time in months we saw 3 consecutive passes, and most of the team looking like they wanted to win.


Bloomfield Road; Kerala.

Yes, after that cycle ride to Bloomfield Road I was a bit dehydrated, and I hallucinated as I came around the corner and saw the Eiffel Tower.  I was looking forward to the game against PSG but expected their pitch to be more than a donkey paddock,  but I love that wooden stand we are all put in.  Crikey you can crank up the decibels to an ear drum popping level, add that to 90 songs in 90 minutes and then there is an afternoon that will give memories lasting as long as the first holiday you went on with your first new boy or girlfriend.  Trepidation, excitement, jubilation and memorable thrills.  It’s all just like watching Wigan.  I borrowed an unknown guys season ticket, and in my interview for it, sterner than going for a job as a Consultant Neuro-surgeon, I was asked if ‘I was 1 of the rowdy ones’, I passed the interview and 6 years later still go to matches with him.


DW Kitale Uganda

We will all have our ‘last but not leasts’ ……. And for me 2 Stoke away games leap almost higher than Hugo’s jump to put THE goal of the season away.  I was in with the Stoke fans and unable to celebrate.  We were all berating the Ref, like we always have to do, because the refs hate us, and suddenly the ball was in the net.  Figs was the opportunist we all like.  But you’ll all have your memories, and I have stacks more.

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But why do we go?  It’s the memories.  It’s the elation that you remember and the fed-up-ness you forget.  It’s the Chesterfield away game of those last 3 goals in almost as many minutes.  It’s not just the football, it’s the fun and craic and banter and the laughs you have with those that are around you, and the Saturday afternoon friends you meet up with.  It’s the removal from the reality of the real world, just for 90 minutes, 90 precious distracting minutes.  Even when I can’t get to the game I get involved in 90 minutes of posting on ‘LATICS WALL’, I am now known as the ‘Gap Filler’, providing comments to Nick on The Wall.

And I reckon it is the same all over the world.


Wigan FC Juniors Darjeeling 


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