Articles from When Saturday Comes. All 27 years of WSC are in the process of being added. This may take a while.
Rob Chapman reports on how Manchester responded to Euro fever
Pre-tournament whinging gets under way in earnest with the Germans deciding that the grass at their Cheshire training complex is too “knobbly” and has glass in it. The jessies. Don’t they know that sprinkling glass in the goal mouth is part of the keeper’s rite of passage round these parts?
Dear WSC
Continuing on the debate about those heartbroken fans of Newcastle, one has to ask where these ‘devoted’ supporters were a few years ago. Commentators frequently reminisce about the dark old days of Newcastle when the club was on the verge of bankruptcy on gates just above 10,000. There is the same fickle element at Middlesbrough – at Ayresome Park back in 1993, matches attracted around 8,000. Now they’d expect 28,000 for a League match against Wimbledon! I can only have limited sympathy for the Toon Army, and even less for the tens of thousands of supporters on the season ticket waiting list. If they’d bought one in 1990, they would have one by now. If would seem that Newcastle’s chums Sunderland are the only ‘North East giant’ with fans of any loyalty: they brought 5,000 to Watford this year – and that was on a wet Tuesday night!
Will Ginster, Chesham
Graham Ennis explains why Liverpool enjoyed playing host to fans at Euro '96
Euro ’96 comes to Liverpool, and the city, despite its reputation as the surly capital of the Northern Hemisphere, made a real effort. The streetlights were decorated, the VE Day bunting unfurled and re-hung, the price of beer was adjusted, even the litter bins were emptied. Our reward was, undoubtedly, three of the best games of the entire tournament.
David Wangerin explains why Euro '96 at Villa Park was a dazzling experience in the stands as much as on the pitch
It was fun, it was interesting, and it was orange. Dutch orange. What Birmingham’s inhabitants are likely to remember most vividly about their city’s participation in Euro ’96 is the number of visitors who came to town wearing tangerine. If not a replica kit (from any era), then a T-shirt, or overalls, or a big hat, or spray-painted clogs. The Dutch must have the most conspicuous fans on earth.
Harry Pearson saw France come to Newcastle (well, Northumberland).
“Can you believe this?” David Thompson, headmaster of Haydon Bridge High School is saying. He has a mobile phone in one trouser pocket and a walkie-talkie in the other. The walkie-talkie occasionally bursts into life with a noise like a 60-a-day smoker waking up after a heavy session. When it does, David Thompson ignores it. It is not his walkie-talkie. He has been given it to look after by one of the Euro security men who are currently scouring the back of the cricket pavilion for Arab terrorists.