Concourse Redesign - Ideas Needed

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I had heard that the club were planning to open a 'Fan Zone' what happened to that? It looks like the wasteland behind the East Stand is kind of prime for it.

West Brom had one set up when we played them earlier in the season and it looked quite good. Lots of different food outlets, a massive screen tv with the early kick off on, plenty of space and leaning spots.

I am pretty sure that e-on own that land.
 
But E-on and make all of the employees redundant.

That would improve my match day experience.
 
What happened with this then? Everything looked exactly the same in the east stand.
 
Big mural in the South Stand

Painted by Bernie after downing two litres of Diamond White, by the looks of it
 
35 years ago, I went to see Ipswich play West Brom at Highbury with my father and some of his friends. One of whom was a respected GP in Suffolk.

He wasn't expecting a complete stranger to piss in his pocket and down his leg. But it happened.

It still makes me laugh. Probably because he was such a lovely bloke and it was so undeserved.

I'm so glad there's someone else who knows this one isn't a myth.

The rule of thumb in the 70s was stand behind anyone wearing a donkey jacket.

Absorbent.
 
I'm so glad there's someone else who knows this one isn't a myth.

The rule of thumb in the 70s was stand behind anyone wearing a donkey jacket.

Absorbent.
A Scouse friend of mine took me to Anfield in the early 70's and I wondered why we forced our selves as far up the back as we could. It seems here were so many thousands of pints consumed constant urinating took place using the 'Football Pink' rolled up to direct the flow away from everyone's legs. On a good day you couldn't stand on the bottom 3 steps , they were submerged. After the mass exodus the kop would be covered in over a ton of soggy pink paper.
 
A Scouse friend of mine took me to Anfield in the early 70's and I wondered why we forced our selves as far up the back as we could. It seems here were so many thousands of pints consumed constant urinating took place using the 'Football Pink' rolled up to direct the flow away from everyone's legs. On a good day you couldn't stand on the bottom 3 steps , they were submerged. After the mass exodus the kop would be covered in over a ton of soggy pink paper.

As barbarian as it was I can't help but miss the sheer freedom of it all.
How many different charges would you be up on for that today?

Not just football but society in general.

Being able to smoke on the top deck of the bus & the left of the pictures

Drinking a can of beer walking down the street wasn't a criminal offence.

Standing in a group on a town centre corner didn't mean unlawful assembly & setting up a ****ing dispersal zone

Getting into a minor scuffle with some mouthy dickhead didn't turn into a 6 month court case & a permanent criminal record.

Bringing your own booze to the late night shows at the Phoenix & ABC & the staff not giving a shit (plus the whole auditorium filled with so much smoke of Lebanese & Morrocan origin you didn't even have to bring your own...just breathe in!

Gig venues that were hot,sweaty & charged with excitement & not a twat in a Hi Viz jacket & earpiece anywhere to be seen.

2p for a phone call or a song on a jukebox.

2 quid to go to almost anywhere in England on the football special.

Pay on the turnstile.
Season tickets were for old men with tartan blankets & thermos flasks in the Main Stand.

The pubs your old man drank in were still standing by the time your turn came to use them & a memorable session didn't evacuate half your wage packet.

& no sodding cameras.

Anywhere.

The older I get,the more I think about it & the conclusion I come to is that I was lucky enough to belong to the last generation whose youth was spent genuinely free.
 
As barbarian as it was I can't help but miss the sheer freedom of it all.
How many different charges would you be up on for that today?

Not just football but society in general.

Being able to smoke on the top deck of the bus & the left of the pictures

Drinking a can of beer walking down the street wasn't a criminal offence.

Standing in a group on a town centre corner didn't mean unlawful assembly & setting up a ****ing dispersal zone

Getting into a minor scuffle with some mouthy dickhead didn't turn into a 6 month court case & a permanent criminal record.

Bringing your own booze to the late night shows at the Phoenix & ABC & the staff not giving a shit (plus the whole auditorium filled with so much smoke of Lebanese & Morrocan origin you didn't even have to bring your own...just breathe in!

Gig venues that were hot,sweaty & charged with excitement & not a twat in a Hi Viz jacket & earpiece anywhere to be seen.

2p for a phone call or a song on a jukebox.

2 quid to go to almost anywhere in England on the football special.

Pay on the turnstile.
Season tickets were for old men with tartan blankets & thermos flasks in the Main Stand.

The pubs your old man drank in were still standing by the time your turn came to use them & a memorable session didn't evacuate half your wage packet.

& no sodding cameras.

Anywhere.

The older I get,the more I think about it & the conclusion I come to is that I was lucky enough to belong to the last generation whose youth was spent genuinely free.
Free to die from second hand smoke induced lung cancer whilst being pissed on and punched for being a mouthy git? Sounds ****ing awful.
 
Eee, but you could leave your front door open. Of course, we had wrong'uns - but they were OUR wrong'uns. Hearts of gold they had, bless'em. And if Ronnie kneecapped you, you said "Thank you, Ronnie" and everyone would go to the boozer for a song around the piano.

And the war, that was bloody glorious too. All the singing in the tube as our house got blitzed, everybody eating pictures of bananas.

And dysentery, that was brilliant too. Kids don't know they're born with their chicken flu and stuff.
 
Free to die from second hand smoke induced lung cancer whilst being pissed on and punched for being a mouthy git? Sounds ****ing awful.

Ey up! I'm struggling to recall any mention of anyone being pissed on in my little stroll down memory lane.
Touch of the Alastair Campbells going on here.
 
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