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OrdinaryJon

Filbert Street & nostalgia

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7 minutes ago, demon_dog said:

Think one of my memories of Filbo was when we played a non league team in the League cup, it was a freezing cold winters night, the kop was virtually empty.

In the row I sat in there were only 2 other guys, the game was that bad that just after half time they lit a spliff and sat there in a haze watching the game with a smile on their faces!

To this day I can't recall who we played or what the (if any) score was, I simply recall these two guys!

 

When I first went the match cost 7shillings and 6 pence to go into the Kop, About 35p in todays money.

Ok, I'll take the bait.

 

A non-league team in the League cup?

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11 minutes ago, HighPeakFox said:

Ok, I'll take the bait.

 

A non-league team in the League cup?

I suspect he meant the FA Cup I guess it makes a big different to the emotion/nostalgia in the story :cool:

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Football was much rawer back in the day,a lot realer too. The current stadiums are immaculate these days from the concourses to the pitch. but the older ones like Filbert Street had more heart about them, largely because the quality by today's standards were so crap LOL. 

 

On a personal note, I went to Filbo for the first time during the 1988/89 season as a teenager and instantly fell in love with the atmosphere in the penns behind the goal and the close proximity to the away fans, buzzing from the sense of excitement of the game and a tad of fear of having the oppo fans next to you, even if there was a metal fence separating us LOL. Everything about the match day experience just felt a lot more rough and ready but fair and that happened when we had at times a third of the fans we have today. People aged in their 40s like me will always state that those days were the best because it was such an experience for a teenager and helped some of us transition from boys to men, making friendships along the way. There is also something to be said about being crap and winning games with pants players, something that the newer fans wouldnt quite understand with a team of Internationals on the pitch and another load on the bench or even loaned out!

 

Finally, fav game was November 89 v Leeds. 18,032 fans there (the biggest home attendance of the season) as Leeds travelled in force as usual and in fairness there fans were everywhere and very noisy but we were there and giving them a match in the stands too. The Filbo roar was deafening at times as we came back to win 4-3 after trailing I think 3-1. It really felt like 50,000 fans were there not 18k!! 

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13 hours ago, Bourbon Fox said:

My first footballing memory is of watching a bloke piss through a rolled-up programme onto the steps of the kop. I'm sure we were standing, which I think would tally with it being about '89 and me being about 5 years old. 

 

What I miss is the frisson of danger, the swelling of the ranks through the side streets, sticking with the crowd and avoiding the spots where away fans might be. It sounds stupid but for a young boy having this experience of excitement, anticipation, trepidation and being part of a surge of thousands doesn't come close to any other type of feeling. A street packed with friendly strangers with a common love.

The occasional glimpse of trouble or being bundled past the Shed and steered away from the horses definitely added to the impression that this was a place, a few hours, where life could be a little bit different. 

 

Oh, and the songs. Starting in Westcotes and growing down Narborough Road, by the time the streams of fans converged on Raw Dykes it was hundreds together. Sung at top volume, all joining in, borne on a breeze of Carling Premier breath and profanity. Sometimes my dad would join in, belting out something like '**** off Mark McGhee' with a 'don't tell your mother' wink and a conspiratorial grin. This was different. This was Going Down The City. 

 

Wide-eyed, silent and with a panda pop and a bag of Smith's Salt-your-own I learned about pub culture - taking the piss out of your mates, always giving a lady a seat, playing spoof and buying rounds and the confident espousal of tactical expertise. My replica shirt was sacred, worn only at the match or when emulating the likes of Tommy Wright and Muzzy on a Thursday night. 

 

I don't miss the ground per se, and I think family-friendliness is a welcome, necessary, inevitable part of progress. 

 

But somewhere along with the danger and my childhood I think we lost the thrill. Walking to the KP is always a special feeling, but it's not got the edge for me - the cocktail of passion and mild peril. 

 

Filbert Street for me will always be a place of noise, camaraderie and an intriguing hint of menace. Not saying that's a good thing, but I wouldn't want my memories to be any different. 

Brilliant post this - brings back memories when we had Derby at home on a Tuesday night in mid 90s. There was trouble around the Woodgate/Buckminster Road area and there was a touch of menace in the air. 

 

My dad once once told me and my brother at about 11/12, this was the only acceptable place to swear. Ironically, he tells me off how when my language goes blue in the Kop

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Just read the match report on the Leicester Mercury website, and noticed an article at the bottom relating to certain photos of the old Filbert Street ground.

 

These stood out, personally:

 

Gone but never forgotten..

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Some small memories from the 70s that give me a warm feeling about Filbert Street;

 

a. Back in those days, not every game was shown on TV and you never knew in advance which games would be shown on Match of the Day or Star Soccer (remember Hugh Johns?) so the first thing I did when I got in the ground was to look up into the pale blue corrugated steel camera 'box' on the roof of the member's stand. Was always disappointed when there were no cameras in there.

 

b. The stadium announcer at about ten-to-three 'Hello everyone, hello everyone...'

 

c. The member's entrance. I wish that had been carefully dismantled and re-erected somewhere at the KP.

 

d. The small 'club shop' in a house on Burnmoor Street.

 

 

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