Date of First Visit: 5th FEBRUARY 1972
EDGAR STREET, HEREFORD
EDGAR STREET, HEREFORD
HEREFORD UNITED 2
NEWCASTLE UNITED 1 (MacDonald)
F.A. CUP THIRD ROUND, REPLAY
ATTENDANCE 14,313 (1,000 or so disbelievin' Toon fans!)
"WIH NOT GANNIN TIH HERTFORD!, MAAN!!"---"WIH GANNIN TIH HEREFORD!!!"
What canna say aboot this game?, the ultimate nightmare, and mee worst EVER! game watchin' the Toon!.
Me and ' Punter the Hunter'! <("He comes from Lobley Hill!") decided tih hitch hike doon for the replay, after non league Hereford's shock two's each draa in the forst game at St. James'.
It was f***** freezin' as wih set off for the Welsh border country. Ah had a foldy road map tih keep wih 'on the reet track' and after aboot five hours and a dozen lifts later, wih hit lucky, as the car driver said he was gannin tih Hereford.
F***** brill!, wih thought!. We were 'cream crackered' and fell asleep exausted in the back of his 'jam jar aalmost straight away.ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
"Hereford!, Hereford!---here we come!"
After aboot two hours he woke wih up.
"We're here lads!", he shouted az he stopped at a road junction.
Ah looked oot the window and saw a sign for London---
"Where the hell are wih---like?", ah said, wipin' the sleep from mee 'mincers'!
Driver: "HERTFORD, MATE!".
"Wih not gannin tih HERTFORD!, MAAN!!"---"Wih gannin tih HEREFORD!!!", ah shouted at him! az 'Punter the Hunter' looked ready tih strangle him!
"Sorry mate, thought you said Hertford!".
'SHIT!'----We were ower a hundred and fifty f***** miles from wor destination, and time was gettin' on!.
Wih said wor farewells (cursin' him under wor breath!) ,waved him off, (two fingers style!) and started PANICKIN'!!!.
We looked at the map and decided that the best course of action waz tih 'hitch' across country, via Oxford.
The next lift (sometime later!) waz from a 'Yank' in a big flash 'jam jar', who, in a broad American accent said he waz heedin' for some univorsity IN Oxford. (GREAT!)
Wih jumped in the back seats and he asked us which 'highway' we wanted? '
Quick az a flash', ah said that ah would'nt mind 'Stevie Highway' (who played for Liverpool!)
(Az yih might expect----he DID'NT! get the joke, az he looked like one of them American basebaall fans who did'nt have a clue aboot the 'worlds greatest game'!----so ah did'nt elaborate!)
"ER!---Just keep gannin' this way mate!", ah said pointin' towards the road aheed.
He gave iz one of those: 'I CAN'T UNDERSTAND A F****** WORD YOU'RE SAYING'---looks!, and carried on in the direction of mee index finger!
"Are yoo heading for some kind of 'pop festival"?, he then asked curiously? , lookin' at wor 'barnets' in the process through hiz rear view mirrah! (wih both had lang hair at that time!, az it waz aall the rage in the orly seventies!) ('T' Rex'---'Slade'---'Led Zep' and aall that!)
"Not exactly man!"---"not exactly!",said 'Punter',puttin' on a 'hippy style American accent'!
He did'nt ask us anymore questions and dropped us off on the ootskirts of Oxford.
"Cheers Buddy!", said 'Punter', salutin' him az he drove off intih the distance!
Wih had tih wait aboot half an hour for wor next lift, but we were in luck, as the gadgie was gannin 'wor way'! and after a couple of more lifts, we eventually arrived in Hereford, EIGHTEEN HOURS! and SIXTEEN LIFTS! from Tyneside!.
(Aye---wih coonted them!)
'Punter' asked the local 'Officer Dibble' ,who waz deein’ ‘the roonds’ on hiz push bike where the groond was?
"AARRRR!---IT'S BESOYD YONDER CATTLE MARKET!", he said as he pointed us in the reet direction.
"YOU'RRR NOT FROM NEWCASTLE BOIY ANY CHANCE ARE YOO?", he enquired with a puzzled look on his face!. (Obviously a 'Sherlock Holmes' in the makin', az 'Punter' waz wearin' a black 'n' white bobble hat with the Newcastle crest on the front of it!)
"WHEY AYE, MAN---COURSE WIH ARE!", ah said.
"AINT YOO 'EARD?"---he replied, in a voice that sent ‘shivvvers doon mee spine’!,
“IT’S BEEN CALLED OFF AGAIN!!!”
mee face! az it felt az though a’d been telt that a close family member had just ‘snuffed it’!
(Aaltogether, the match had been postponed aboot ten times because of a frozen pitch!)
WIH COULD’NT BELIEVE IT!---we were SHATTERED!---FROZEN! ---STARVIN'!---THIRSTY!---DOG TIRED!---AND!---F*****’ TOTALLY PISSED OFF!.
AAL THIS F*****’ WAY AND THE F*****’ GAME’S OFF!!!.
Wih heeded for a local 'greasy spoon' cafe for a hot drink and some 'Desperate Dan', but aall that was left tih eat were some chocolate f***** biscuits! and what looked like a stale 'stottie cake'!.
It DID'NT! look 'ower clever', so wih opted for the 'biccys' instead!.
"FOWER OFF THEM BISCUITS, PAL!", ah said tih the aad 'gadgie' with the 'handlebar moustache' behind the coontaa!, pointin' towards the 'said' 'biccys'.
"AAARRRRR!---FORRRR WOYFORRRZ!", he said az he hoyed them on a plate.
(Translation: "AAARRRRR!---FOUR WAFERS!")
Wih just burst oot laffin', at his 'Worzel Gummage' style accent!.
(Wih had tih laff!---or wih would'iv F***** CRIED!)
After a few 'dodgy looks', he served iz, and wih sat doon tih wor tea 'n' woyforrrz!---(sorry!---wafers!)
Wih then headed for the local 'drinkin' establishments' tih drown (and 'down'!) wor sorrows!.
Scrumpy cider was on the 'menu' at EIGHT PENCE A PINT! (At last!---some GOOD! news!?)
(That's reet!---EIGHT F***** PENCE!) so---(as yih dee!) wih got totally 'rat-arsed'! alang with some other Toon fans who'd aalso made the wasted journey doon by the supporters club, and at 'chuckin' oot time', they managed tih sneak us onto their coach for the lang trip yem!.
(Wih hid behind the seats at the back of the bus!)
"THE ULTIMATE! DISASTER!"
When the game was eventually played, wih both headed back tih Herefordshire, prayin' that the match would be on!.
(This time on the supporters bus!---which took seven hours!)
Anly tih witness the most televised goal in 'futbaall history'!----scored (on a ploughed field!) by---yee naa who!
(and then prayed, that the ref would abandon the match, tih put wih oot of wor misery!) (nee such luck!)
Of course in the orly seventies there waz nee such thing az aall seater stadiums and the vast majority of the crowd waz 'shoehorned' intih every available space! (perimiter waalls, roofs, floodlight pylons, anything!)
The thoosand or so Toon fans who were unfortunate enough tih be there!, were behind one of the goals. At the front some wooden beer crates had been placed behind the goal line az improvized seats so that the youngins' amongst the crowd could get a better view of the proccedins' on the shallow terraces, and they stretched from corner flag tih corner flag!
(That's REET! F***** BEER CRATES!)
The anly problem waz---that fans behind THEM!could'nt see a thing!, because the 'little brats' at the front were STANDIN' on them! for a better view! (Taylor Report!----divvint mek iz laugh!)
Soon, the crowd behind pushed them ontih the runnin' track and that's where they ended up sittin' az the game kicked off!
Look!---a'm writin' this some forty three years after that 'fateful day' and it STILL! HAUNTS IZ!--- SO!--- aall give yiz a (very) brief match report!---that's aall yih gannih get!
The game waz crap until 'Supermac' gave wih the lead late on in the second half and we'd aall thought wi'd won---UNTIL!--- (horror upon horrors!) a 'last gasp' equaliser which haz become the most televised goal in futbaall history, forced the game intih extra time!
Oot of frustration, 'Punter the Hunter' picked one of the beer crates up and hoyed it ower the top of the crowd!
It hit a 'Dibble' who waz waalkin' aroond the pitch, smack on hiz bonce, knockin' hiz helmet off and knockin' HIM! clean oot!
The 2nd most televised goal ever! from the non leegue side, then followed in extra time----followed by hundreds of 'anoraks' runnin' across the clarty 'pitch'!---FULL STOP!*
(That iz mee last recollection of the match!)
Tih cap it aall!---WIH PLAYED IN A F*****’ AALL RED! STRIP IZ WELL!
THIS ONE WAS THE ULTIMATE DISASTER!---
©FINK™ (The Mad-Sad Gr☺undh☻pper!)
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