If you could bring any matchday experience back...

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I also remember in the late 80's/early 90's listening to Radio Sheffield.

No live match commentaries, but whatever was on was always interrupted by a recorded 'It's a GOOOOOOOALLLL', followed by a report from whoever was at the game.

The anticipation of hoping it was either us who had scored or the pigs had conceded.
 

John Street was great, we'd always end up on there for cup games as Season Ticket was in the South Stand.

I didn't enjoy spending 10 mins looking for my old man though after we'd scored a goal and I'd got carried halfway down the terrace.
 
Night games, walking up Shoreham Street and looking at the old floodlights. Always standing in the same spot and seeing much the same people, comments when they weren't there.
 



The aggro in the ground. Having a mob of opposition supporters turn up on the kop minutes before kick off and the windmilling that followed. Going onto opposition home ends and going mental when the Blades scored – and the windmilling that followed. Sneaking mob handed round the back of the half built South Stand to the Bramall Lane terrace with 10 minutes to go to take it to the away fans. Nicking opposition fans scarves and then taunting them with it.

Oh the tales my old ma used to regale me with…
 
Casual racism on the kop in the 80s.

Pissing against a freestanding wall at away grounds.

Pies already cooked 3 times since the last home game.

Breathing in more second hand fag smoke in a game than Marlboro man inhaled in a week.

Bloke on kop who used to blow a kazoo or something similar every time opposition goalie took a kick.
 
The half time entertainment in the mid 80s with the giant inflatable football, kids used to get knocked down like bowling pins once someone had got a bit of momentum with it.
 
*THAT* Jags goal against dirty Leeds

Closely followed up by

*THAT* Cheeky tap in by Ndlovu, just after *THAT* Jags goal against dirty Leeds :D

Quality night!

I think that led to L**ds fans doing some work on the away end, removing the old wooden seats for us.
 
Playing football for the school team Saturday morning, bus up to Sheffield, paying the U16 price onto the John Street Terrace with money I'd earnt myself doing a paper round - and then a few hours later trying to persuade the bouncers at the Adam & Eve, Tiffs or the Peppermint Park that I was indeed over 18 and keen to spend the rest of my money on watered down lager and Rotherham's lovely ladies.

Glory days.
 
Me and my dad going down to BDTBL on a Saturday afternoon to watch the Blades Reserves in the Central League if we couldn't get to the away match the first team were playing.
Only John Street open and the old scoreboard would be updated with the first team score (and the pigs score) every 15 minutes.
Proper old school matches with players who might play their whole career for one club but only make a handful of first team games in the shadow of the regulars (Ron Widdowson forever Hodgy's deputy or Reg Mathewson always kept out by Joe Shaw).
 



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