derby day, the street's of our fair city are buzzing tonight, forest, the ram's biggest rival's are coming to town, making their way down the sixteen miles of road that link the two cities, brian clough way, or the a52 if you want the official designation, they are after revenge for the defeat at the city ground when derby beat them with only ten men, the goalkeeper, frank fielding having been sent off early in the game, we are desperate to beat them tonight and inflict damge to their hopes of relegation survival as well as 'doing the double' over them for the first time in almost forty years, as we make our way to pride park, the home of derby county football club, we can hear the chanting of the rival supporters, the derby fan's walking in from the town centre and the forest fan's under police escort from the railway station, half a mile stroll from the ground, their are groups of fan's standing under the statue of brian clough and peter taylor, the dynamic duo who had massive success with both club's, as we queue for the turnstiles we see our rival's for the first time, and the tension rises again, up the stair's and the concourse is packed, singing, swaying people, drinking and spilling beer as they jostle and sing, just a coke for me and the boy jack tonight, it's a 'school night' so no alcohol, i honestly don't need it and make my way to my seat, the team's take to the pitch and the noise is incredible, a moment after kick off and the first tasty tackle goes in, yellow card and the scene is set for the rest of the half, it's a scrappy affair, the ball spend's most of the time in the air, being launched forward in the hope of connecting with a respective striker, the second half continues in the same vain, more bruising tackles and card's, one particularly savage assault on a derby player sparks a twenty two man melee on the half way line that see's our goalie running the length of the pitch to get involved, turn up the gas to mark 7, the next challenge see's our centre-back badly injured and stretchered off with career threatening knee damage, the forest fan's gloat and chant while the stricken player, shaun barker is receiving attention from the medical staff, a section of the derby fan's decide to retaliate with their own chant, 'where's your chairman gone?', reffering to the death of the forest chaiman nigel doughty a few week's ago, it's getting hot in here, time is clicking away,but due to the ref sorting out the battling players and barkers injury there are 8 minutes of extra time, then, it happens, jake buxton, on as a substitute for barker, stoop's low to head in the ball at close range, 95 minutes gone, the ground explodes in noise and i can actually feel the upper teir shaking as the derby faithful go wild, the next 3 minutes take an eternity, then mr durso raises the whistle to his lips and blow's...........'tell me mam, me mam, to put the champagne on ice, we beat the forest twice, tell me mam, me mam............'

well, what do you know, it's saturday and it's football, bit of a novelty this one, first home game on a saturday afternoon, three o'clock kick off since early january, call me old fashioned but 1500hrs saturday and 1945 hours wednesday should be football, not fitting in with sky tv's agenda, yes, i know, sky put a lot of money in, but so what?, it's all relative, my season ticket isn't cheap, i shell out a lot of hard-earned to watch mediocre second division football, because, again, it doesn't matter how you dress it up as 'championship', it's division two, times change, they had to after bradford and heysel and the awful afternoon at hillsborough, you can't see your loved one's off to football and never see them alive again, the 'english disease' had spread out of control, no longer was it about stealing scarves or taking end's, the whole game had spiralled out of control, the hooligan's were more organised, outwitting the old bill and roaming this sceptered isle unchecked and even worse, europe, violence, beamed directly into mr and mrs joe public's home, the majority of the grounds were relic's from a bygone age, no segregation, terracing and crush barriers, not even proper toilets, people pissed where they stood, the grounds packed to capacity, you couldn't move until the final whistle, it's a saturday, people are having a beer, the whole atmosphere was one of violence and intimidation, i remember travelling to away games in the '70's by intercity trains or the infamous 'football specials', we were treated like cattle, herded onto out-dated rolling stock, no lightbulbs, broken toilets, ripped seats, beer cans and vodka bottles rolling up and down the aisles, we were like an invading army, you always had that sense of trepidation as you pulled into a faraway station, the whole train would go quiet as we approached the platform, then, as one, a whole cacophony as to a man we let them know 'we are derby, we are derby...' mounted police, dog's and missiles from the opposition greeted you on arrival, thing's had to change and they did, mr's thatcher's government brought in draconian laws aimed at suppressing the football fan, cages built around the terracing to prevent pitch invasions came back to haunt the game at bradford and hillsborough, even travelling to a match became difficult, lesson's learnt in the miner's strike were used to harrass the football fan, all seater stadiums became the order of the day, mascots and the emphasis on 'family' entertainment, football was taken away from the working classes, we were not welcome anymore, then, money came into the game, it started to be run by business men, my own club was one of the first, we were taken over by the newspaper magnate, robert maxwell, [who met a rather unfortunate end falling off his private yacht, excuse me, i've come over all emotional-not], sky sports entered the fray, no longer was the game saturdays and wednesdays as the fixtures were juggled to suit tv ratings, with the tv money came the high player wages that have seen the game reduced to it's knee's, club's in insolvency, rich, greedy journeymen football players driving bentley's and bitching and moaning about 'it being a short career', save your tear's you wanker's, i don't want to see you kissing the badge, you don't know what it means to support your team like we do so don't fucking insult us, you would be off in a flash if some other club promised you another two hundred and fifty thousand pound's a year more, yeah, things had to change, but you know what? not alway's for the best, i'm going to stick my neck out here, i miss the old day's, the crack, the banter, the lad's out on a saturday, you didn't take your missus to football, you didn't clap the mascot's or take pictures of the players cars in the stadium carpark, you went to football with your mate's, had a beer, it was war, walking down shaftesbury street, the terraced houses with boarded up windows, the smell of hot metal and sand from ley's foundry, the aroma of cheap hotdogs and fried onions, beery breath and swearing, baiting the opposition and dodging the nut's and bolt's, [i kid you not], i'm a dinosaur me, football's sterile and corporate, we got beat two-one today, but, we've got forest at home on tuesday, our hated local rival's, 'if your tired and weary.....'

saturday see's the ram's playing host's to premiership opposition stoke city at pride park, stoke are currently eighth in the prem. while we are enjoying mid-table obscurity in eleventh in a league below them in the championship, a good chance then to see how we fair against a big, strong premiership team, in all honesty, we were well out of our depth and only had three shot's on goal all of the match, stoke are a big physical side and muscled derby out of the game, we certainly could have done without the histrionic's of the premiership player's going to ground at the slightest of touches and getting free kick's, appealing to the referee for our player's to be booked and the aforementioned mr clattenburg awarding the blatant offside goal by jerome, what really galled me was his little chat's, smiles, wink's and even pat's on the bottom with the stoke player's, we faced an uphill battle as it was without capitulation from the match officials, especially the two good penalty shout's for a 'last man' foul, [not even a booking, nevermind a sending off] and a more blatant handball in the area than i have ever seen, good game though and it show's just how far we have to go to stand a chance in the prem, stoke bought a really good following, over five thousand, bit dissapointed with the attendance overall though, especially as it was a cup match against a premiership side, 22,000, [still more than stoke get at home though], we had to sit in the west stand lower teir as our upper section was closed, presumably because of poor ticket sales, what was interesting was the amount of old school hooligan element in attendance, i clocked many 'old faces' from the old baseball ground 'c' stand crew, we were two row's down from the hospitality suites and i must admit, i did laugh when some suited and booted stoke city businessmen who were getting a bit loud through 'dutch-courage' got a straightner from one of the derby boy's, he stood up straight in front of them and gave it 'em double-barrelled stylee, 'fucking shut it you chip eating cunt's' they chose to watch the second half from behind the safety of the sliding glass door's in their box, fair play to stoke though, i hope they go on to do well in the cup and i thought their song was brilliant concerning their european tour in the europa league, 'we're going to valencia, you're going to peterborough...........' football humour at it's very best..............

the dambusters theme, brilliant, 'we all hate leed's and leed's and leed's and leed's, we all fucking hate leed's......' they came to town today and got what they deserved, a fucking dicking, i hate leeds, not as much as forest, but when their scummy fan's are dissing brian in such a disgusting way, especially as they know that his son's family were going to be at the game then i must admit i loved it when we turned them over, again, yeah, i make that six on the bounce now you dirty leeds bastards.....

deutsche demokratische republik, vintage football shirt, love it, i'm going to get one and get 'mz #51' printed on the back.........'

billy davis.

gollum.

so billy, the red dogs bottled it again and got well beaten by a far superior side, two years on the trot and you got booted out of a play-off final, all the huffing and puffing, all the forest fans crowing about 'this being our year', i love it that it all came to nothing for you and our scutty neighbours, times nearly up billy, you reached the top with the mighty rams, the only way is down, watching the match on monday was great, especially when campy cocked it up for the third goal and got chipped from the half way line, total comedy moment, they'll be playing that one on soccer am for years, 'taxi for camp.......'

the 'infamous' derby vs forest 'waterfall' incident........................

derby day, the rams v forest, less than a month after our dicking at the city ground the red dogs come to town for the home fixture, we are on the slide, down from fourth place to fourteenth, i'm awake early with p.m.t, [pre-match-tension], we have to beat them today, we have to get some pride back into pride park and the players need to man up and get a result, we catch up with the tail end of the scum being escorted by the o.b from the railway station on their short walk to the ground, they are full of it, giving it the big one from behind the safety of a police cordon and dogs, one big, fat ginger twat is really fancying himself, he soon shuts up when i start to cross the road, 'i'll see you later fatty...', into the ground and it's rammed, wish it was this busy every home match, our attendances are sliding like our league positions, although we still get more support than a lot of premiership clubs and last year we were only second to sunderland in our average attendances, the game kicks off, nil-nil at half time and the rams are holding their own against the dogs, second half substitution  see's our ex-striker earnshaw come on and he slots the ball past our keeper, we huff and puff, searching for the equaliser to get the draw but it's too little too late, i'm numb, beaten for the first time at home by the scum in our history at pride park, i feel sick in my stomach, i can't even go for a consolation pint with the lads after the game and make my way home, gutted....

as soon as the fixtures are announced i look for derby vs forest, to get one over on our scutty neighbours down the a52 is a joyous occasion [ and a good pay day for them as it's the only game of the year that they can sell out, that's the fickle nature of the scum i'm afraid], jack and me got into town around 1600 hours meeting up with nick and roy in the 'leaper for a couple of port and lemon's, taxi to our favourite indian for a curry and make the short stroll to the merry widows to pick up our coach for the short journey to snottingham, just like the old day's the coach is rammed with some dodgy fuckers from back in the day, half way down the a52 they are fighting amongst themselves and it's all going pete tong, off the bus at the shitty ground and the atmosphere is electric, i try and catch it on film and take a picture, [third one down], 'can you come over here mate?' i look up and some bloke in a forest green steward jacket is ushering me to one side, 'it's an offence to take photographs inside the ground' 'mate, i'm a hundred yard's away from the ground so how is that an offence?', 'it just is so put your camera away or i'm going to have to confiscate it', 'listen to me, i'm not inside the ground, therefore there is no offence so fuck off and threaten somebody who gives a fuck before i take some photo's of your insides', at this point he loses interest and goes off to pick on someone who he can frighten, game kicks off and we are one nil down within a minute, we pull one back but they score two more, we look frightened to death and end up on the wrong side of a 5-2 dicking, we didn't turn up tonight, they looked completely average but we had no backbone and didn't take the fight to them, that's the way it goes i'm afraid, the good thing is, it's less than a month 'til we get them back to our place..........

forest away, the hottest ticket in town, three and a half hour queue at pride park in the freezing cold, four thousand two hundred and fifty tickets allocated to us, all gone in a couple of hours, people were queueing around the ground in the hope of getting one, many of them going home dissapointed, the fixture falls halfway between christmas and the new year, most people are on holiday so will probably spend the majority of the day in the pub before making their way to the match, you can get a train to snottingham but for some reason the last train home is before the game ends, so we have over four thousand rams fans who have been on the piss all day stuck in snottingham, wonder what might happen?

lost today, 2-1 against norwich city, always dissapointing to lose but fair play to norwich they had done their homework and were 2-nil up within 20 minutes, we pulled one back, huffed and puffed but they were the better team on the day, what's really important is that we have coach tickets for forest away on the 29th december, you can get a train to the game but there's nothing back to derby after the match, what's all that about?, let's ship 3000 derby fans into nottingham, everyone's off work for the xmas holidays, on the piss all day, local derby against our hated rival's and no way of getting home, genius, we haven't even got tickets for the game yet, roy is going to queue up at 6am on december the 12th when they go on sale, even then we aren't guaranteed a ticket to get in the ground but we are going to nottingham on the bus anyway, beautiful.....

dave mackay grips billy bremner, 20th august, 1966.

night games, when you are on your way home after work and you really can't be bothered to go , but you have a season ticket and well, after saturdays result against palace you never know, home tonight against middlesborough, they are a stiffer proposition altogether, when they go one-nil up just before half time you can see the fan's faces drop, here we go again, shaun barker pop's up at the far post to head the equaliser in injury time, second half kicks off and the rams come out firing and batter 'boro all over the park, kris commons makes amends for his penalty miss in the first half and scores two great goals, derby 3- boro 1, bag of chips on the walk home, sorted.



first match of the season, away to dirty leeds, so much history between the clubs, the now infamous 44 day clough reign, the hatred between clough and revie, the franny lee and norman hunter punch up that started on the pitch and continued in the tunnel in full view of the television camera's i can remember standing on the terraces at the baseball ground and the leeds fans throwing nuts and bolts at us, the first
away match i took my son to was leeds away, first game of the season like today, that was a draw, today we beat them 2-1, i'm sure wherever brian is he would have been relishing the win over dirty leeds, especially as his son is now our manager, oh yeah, another thing, forest lost and the brian clough way 'linking derby and nottingham' signs?, we don't want to be linked with those wankers! 'when your'e tired and weary, your heart will skip a beat, you'll get your fuckin' head kicked in as you walk down shaftesbury street, you walk into the popside, you hear a mighty roar, fuck off you forest bastards!, we are the derby boy's!'

billy davies, used to be the rams manager, got us up into the premiership and bottled it, play-off final vs west brom, we won one-nil, steven pearson goal, after match interview and the bastard say's that 'he wished he had done it with preston'. that was the end really, so he goes to forest, about right really, how i laughed when they fucked up against blackpool, forest spent six million quid in their effort to get back into the prem, we are still suffering because of this twat's buy's, [claude davis?, three and a half million for a donkey who would be hard pressed to make it into a sunday league side], watched the post-match interview and already he is making excuses, do us a favour billy, just fuck right off, oh yeah, were going to do you home and away next season too you red-dog forest bastard.

last match of the championship season, cardiff at home, 1pm kick off so bus into derby, walk to the vic for opening time at twelve, couple of pints and a cob with the lads and walk up to pride park, loads of o.b about, they have bought a decent following with them, lots of fancy dress and them chanting about going to wembley, no chance, they are a very average side, they let us know they are from wales, we let them know we are from england....

cardiff are in the play-offs and we finish the season in 14th place, we looked the better team, saul deeney our reserve keeper had one save to tip over the bar, we won two-nil, final whistle and the rams fans are onto the pitch despite the best efforts of the derbyshire constabulary to keep them at bay, the helicopter is hovering overhead and the derby boys are doing their best to get the cardiff crew to join them on the pitch, the o.b bring on the dogs and we drift off to the vic for a couple of pints, another season put to bed.

night matches, mid-week, can't have a beer like a saturday, the whole build up to the match, saturday, walk the dogs, big breakfast, shower and shave, iron your gear, got to look sharp, bus into derby at twenty to one, into the leaper for a couple, walk down to the vic and meet the lads, the crack is flowing, piss-taking, have a chat with the oppositions fan's, [it's straight across the from the train station so is the first port of call for away fan's], walk to pride park, buzzing, night matches are just a rush, started work at six, rushed home, rushed to take the dog's, rushed to get a shower, rushed to drive to five lamps, rushed to walk to the ground, we play 'boro tonight, they must have come in a taxi, 200 away fan's at the most, they go one-nil up, we pull two goals back to go ahead, 91 minutes in, everyone whistling when our left back jay mcevely wrestles one of their players to the ground, free kick to them, lovely ball in, leroy lita to head in for a point for them, bastard, we needed the three points, walking back to the car we get the news that the filth have been beaten by the mighty barnsley, suddenly the point doesn't seem too bad....

and a bag of chips on the way home, only one mind, loads of salt, you have to share them otherwise they don't taste the same.