Stoopid

Yeah - but it was before the time that baldies routinely shaved their heads to disguise it (as seems almost compulsory these days). To be fair to him, he was a pretty decent keeper.

Mark Wallington? Ok, not egg-style baldness but he had an ever-increasing sun-roof that used to fascinate me when I was standing behind the goal in the Kop. Most noticeable on those (frequent) occasions when he turned round to scoop the ball out of the back of the net.

Don't know, but she got married to some other bloke and went to live in Canada. Think it was the way I ate my peas...

In the words of Neil Warnock, I love a bit of fried bread, me.

Wondering if this is the same Ken I knew who used to go down the Mag in the old days. Sounds like him. RIP.

Now managing Brum. That'll take the smiley off his face!

Not unless they've had a REALLY bad day.

Julie Walters being a serial offender. As in Adrian Mole and the film about Joe Orton. Doing her native brummie thing.Grrr. Remember that Paul Whitehouse thing where the nurse went round various character"s homes. She had a Leicester accent you could butter cobs with. But I looked her up, and it turned out she was from Leicester.

Agreed - though I'd make an exception of Steve Coogan. His Saxondale character had a pretty convincing E Mids accent.

Completely unscientific, I know, but when I lived in the USA I never felt remotely threatened. Struck me as a good-natured society. Certainly more intrinsically polite than Britain. Which is a pretty polite country itself, I've always found. Maybe the high level of courtesy in America has something to do with the fact you're never quite sure if the person you're talking to has a gun on them or not!

I think the E Mids accent is highly distinctive to anybody not posessed of tin ears. There is really no resemblance to Birmingham or W Mids - possibly something to do with the Danish influence (mentioned above) which obviously persists in place-names (-by, -thorpe, -toft etc) but seems to have had a lasting effect on speech. And home counties? Seriously?

Corona had their depot on Linden Street, close to where I lived. Friutful territory for liberating empties and taking them to the offie for the deposit. Though from memory it was only 2d a bottle (early 60s).Same area as Grattan's, Gent's, Wildt Mellor Bromley Imperial Typewriters etc. Plenty going on - good place to grow up.

Pretty much tallies with my recollection. Remember the 2nd hand car thing too. Him and Hutchinson were often ensconced in his office - probably where I got the idea they were in some sort of business together. He left the actual instruction to the purple track-suited underlings. We had a pretty good football team though.

Blimey! Just clicked on the link and saw the old Wyvernian stuff going on at length. As my reaction to the place could be summed up in a couple of words - predictably profane - I don't think I'll be adding to it any time soon. All I ever saw of Jock was his arm (accompanied by clouds of cigar-smoke) emerging from his office and releasing a football for us goons to kick about. Thought it was pretty funny actually.

I remember the name alright, I was there when it happened. But don't feel I should repeat it. Not that it can really matter anymore - imagine Hutchinson would be long gone by now - but natural caution precludes. I'm a bit older than you, but we seem to have been there at about the same time. Not a period I recall with any fondness - I detested the place pretty thoroughly I must say. A problematic relationship with Ernie Bell didn’t help matters. Got nothing out of the place and was delighted to leave.

This is City Boys' I'm talking about. The incident referred to would be maybe 71, round there. Think it modified his outlook somewhat. Seem to remember he spent a lot of time running some kind of business (scrap metal?) from the wood/metal work room. Him and Jock, the cigar - smoking sports bloke were in it together I think. Didn't have much to do with him after the nutting episode.

Must have been a thing with metalwork teachers. We had one, Hutchinson by name, used to do the same thing - though usually on the palm. Hurt like hell. But one day he did it to the wrong lad, a kid from the Monsell, who promptly stuck the nut on him. He got away with it too. Maybe Hutch was too embarrassed to report it, but nothing came of it. Whatever - the sadistic sod kept his ruler to himself after that.

Should have used a pencil and paper...

Yeah, well I failed Maths O-level twice. Then I waited a while and failed it again. That means I failed it 4 times. Don't think it's for me...

Remember as a kid when barbershops used to sell Durex ('something for the weekend, sir?'). Being young and innocent, I thought they were razor blades. Bought a packet for my Dad's birthday...'Thought these might be useful, Dad' Thinking back, imagine the barber got a good laugh out of it. Might even have taken the ever-present fag out of his gob for a second or two.

Obviously, we'd all rather be in the Final when crowds can attend, kind of goes without saying really. But it's not really a choice is it? No guarantee we'll be anywhere near it next season or any other time come to that. We can't afford to be choosy about these things.

So basically if you can't be there it's not worth bothering with?

The Nite Owl. A club on Newarke St that used to do soul all-nighters. Was destroyed by fire round turn of the 60s. Great nights there, amphetamine-fuelled and mad. Also the Il Rondo on Silver St and the Burlesque (Humberstone Rd), the latter immortalised by Family, greatest of the Leicester bands.

I know. Seemed so real though. Was thinking 'Wow, did that really happen?' But then I read through some old FT threads and realised it couldn't have...

Had this dream last night where Kelechi Ihenacho scored a hat-trick... Weird or what?