Dave Espley remembers a time when his beloved Stockport County players would arrive at the ground using much simpler methods
It was my dad who first disillusioned me. It was teatime in the mid-Seventies, and I was watching The Tomorrow People. He arrived home from work and dropped the bombshell. “I’ve just seen Johnny Griffiths in Mersey Square.” Johnny Griffiths? Scorer of a fantastic 13 goals in 1972-73? The man who personified all that was glamorous about Seventies football to my prepubescent eyes? Wow! Must affect nonchalance. “Yeah? What was he doing?” Casing the centre of Stockport for a site for his new boutique? Cutting the ribbon of the new Tesco?