How old were you and when did you realise you hated the pigs?

[raul]

Aged 7. At that age, you tend to go along with what your dad thinks. Large Mendonca has always hated the pigs, I was never going to be any different.

The 'United vs Wednesday' games at dinner time at primary school never helped. Even good mates who would be on the winning Wednesday team would brag for the rest of the day that they had won. When our team won, we just kept our heads down, didn't gloat and continued gluing and sticking sequins on bits of card in different arrangements in the afternoon lessons.

Not a lot has changed for you over the years, has it?

 

[Lord Bos of Eckington.]

Is that where he's buried? Sorry, couldn't resist!

Nice one

UTB

 

[maidmarion]

Hate is a very strong word.
I'm a Blade. grandads on both side were, my mum, dad and uncles were, never entered my head that I would support any other team.
My husband had to support the Blades or he wouldn't see me on Saturdays.
I took the little uns with me when I couldn't get a babysitter and we'd sit with my mum, dad sister and her little ones too.
So you see, I'm indifferent to that other team. Can't see why we even sing their name in a match day and do I look for their result of where they are in the league?No.
Do I hate them then? No......but that Boxing Day and Wembleysemi final were hard to take.

 

[chipsncake]

I think of it as a political thing. (no, really, stick with me!)

I went to King Teds in the sixties. Hillsborough had been recently built - interest-free loans, chosen for the 66 World Cup, 'friends - Eric Taylor etc. - in high places' nothing really changes. To be fair, their cantilever stand was awesome back then and we had the old, wooden John Street stand, tin-shed kop, no stand on the south side etc.

To say we felt like the poor relations was an understatement. In 1970 - back in the day when the FA Cup draw was made live on radio at lunchtime - we all gathered round somebody's trannie (portable radio to you, son!). Noticeable in the crowd were the prefects - all tall, well-bred, good-looking bastards and, without exception, Wednesday fans (probably now being chased by Operation Yewtree). When it came out we were at home to Everton a huge cheer went up. We had no chance but, what should have been a celebration for Sheffield football turned into another opportunity for those bastards to take the piss.

Around that time, Santos of Brazil (including Pele) played a friendly at Hillsborough on a midweek afternoon. In assembly the headmaster asked 'who would like the afternoon off to watch Sheffield Wednesday?' A huge cheer went up 300-odd boys put their hands up. For a laugh, he asked 'Is there anybody who doesn't want the afternoon off?' One hand went up. Mine.

So began my career as a Blade, Wednesday-hater and all-round Bolshie bastard! (Something that continues to this day!)

In the late 80s, I moved to S10. Went into the local for the first time and it seemed that everybody supported Wednesday. Never mind. Another challenge! It hit home after the 1993 semi at Wembley. When we finally all limped home a day or two later, an overbearing cunt of a pig fan gleefully told me that, for the match, the place was 'absolutely packed with Wednesdayites watching the match on TV.' I replied 'Yeah. That's the difference. We Blades went to the match. You lot just surrounded yourselves with like-minded, big-gobbed bastards on a mutual-appreciation day.' (N.B. Wednesdayites know, deep down that their team is shite but, like Scotland football supporters, think that if they surround themselves with fellow-delusionals, it'll make them good. It won't.)

And that's where the 'political' bit comes in. Just like people on the left wing have no qualms about impressing their views onto people (the BBC is packed with them), people like Michael Vaughan, that cunt from Reverend and the Makers etc. and getting endless opportunities to mouth off (see Heaven, Football or Grumble, Praise and), the 'local' media is obviously biased to the cunts as well. Us? We're 'built' in a totally different way. More modest. We keep our heads down and just get on with the many disappoinments that are thrown our way.

As well as being utterly different to the blue-nosed bastards, we also possess a quirky, anarchic humour, pragmatism and an off-the-wall view of life. (Despite their latest, pathetic attempt could Wednesday - or the fans of any other club come to that - have come up with 'The Greasy Chip Butty Song'? We don't really care what anybody else thinks (but not in that Millwall, 'no one likes us, we don't care' thuggish way). We're the Sankt Pauli of English football.

When we have some minor trouble at home games, they shut half the fucking stand down. I wonder what slap on the wrist Villa will get? We were cheated of our place in the Premier, are regularly on the end of shocking refereeing decisions in big matches (2003 FA- and League Cup semis come to mind), but we plod on.

We're different and thank fuck for that. Just look at their 'fans' who ruined the city while they 'worked' for SCC. - Betts, Blunkett, Ashdown, Hattersley. Cunts every one (and that continues the political theme - supporting Wendy has always been synonymous with being a pinko.)

Most people accept that you end up supporting the team your dad supported/took you to see when you were a kid. Not in my case! I'm convinced that, had my dad been a pig - or if I'd given in to the incredible pressures when I was growing up - I would have naturally gravitated to the Blades. Why? Because the Blades are different. And so am I.

And for those who say 'I don't care what Wednesday do.' Nonsense. Part of the package in supporting a team is hating your nearest rivals. After all, they're hell-bent on destroying our prospects. (Witness RS not letting the ludicrous Jordan Rhodes rumours to die down. 'I don't believe it, but you never know...' All part of the endless, subliminal message the local media force-feed us with.)

Imagine you next-door neighbour suddenly parking a Ferrari on his drive. You go out, admire it and congratulate him.

Then you think 'Cunt.'

Top post.

Thought I'd done well getting to High Storrs, but King Teds you were a brainy bugger Graf.

Was brought up by mi dad to hate Wednesday and it's something I couldn't get rid of even if I wanted to.

 

[Treeton Blade]

My old Dad used to put me in Wednesday nappies, so I regularly shat on them, so it was about then I reckon.

 

[Jonboy60]

62 yrs ago when I realised I hated the pigs, I'm 61 now, so yes I was a foetus.

 

[Canterbury Blade]

Boxing Day for me. So looking forward to it as an eleven year old, top of the league and going great guns.. Micky Speight being elbowed out of the game, Sabella not turning up and legions of pigs gloating ruined my Xmas.

All the school bullies were pigs and some of my best mates were built in those days standing up for each other against pig bullies.

Fast forward to the late Eighties and anyone who socialised in town and London Road will recall the attitude of their 'fans'. Standing in The Hermitage with Waards in hand on a Saturday night does not mean a Pig idiot has the right to throw a pool ball through the window and shatter innocent punters with glass. Only seemed to occur when we were away some distance away...

I really dont have a pig as a friend in my life and never have, they just seem to be not my kind of people. And before anyone accuses me of generalisation its true and i suppose my life just hasnt taken on a pig dimension, have i missed out. I dont think so...

 

[torridon]

Can't remember when my dislike of that football club began but probably around boxing day 79, I was 14 too, went with my dad and his mate, not so much the result but the grief from the snout nosed bastards at school when we went back was relentless. However my kids are under no illusions who not to like, they have been taught to shout unprompted "It's the stinky pig sty, what a pong". My girl is 7 and my boy is 3, proud Dad

 

[Blade82]

Probably starting junior school..all of a sudden surrounded by Pork as opposed to around where I lived where it was mainly Blades...It was the '67/68 ,the season after they lost to Everton,and they'd also got their ground revamped for the '66 World Cup not long before,so they were full of it..then we were relegated in '68.
Things seemed to even out at school in the following years...seemed to be more Blades than previously,and thanks to John Tudor,off the bench we could get the upper hand in the banter stakes and watch them slide,while we were on the up.
I used to hate them,but it's more a strong dislike these days,and they are good comedy value.

Same here. Although I'm a tad younger so it was the mid 90s. Surrounded by kids who were pigs but when I asked if they were going on Saturday they said no it's a sellout!! Bless em!

Meanwhile I took days off to go to away games at the likes of bury and notts county. Usually coming in to piss take the next day.

 

[torridon]

Can't remember when my dislike of that football club began but probably around boxing day 79, I was 14 too, went with my dad and his mate, not so much the result but the grief from the snout nosed bastards at school when we went back was relentless. However my kids are under no illusions who not to like, they have been taught to shout unprompted "It's the stinky pig sty, what a pong". My girl is 7 and my boy is 3, proud Dad

They shout it when we have the misfortune to have to drive past.

 

[Woodwardfan]

Watched United from 1955. Only started being uncomfortable about Wendy in 1959 when I ventured out of S2 to start at City Grammar and met Wendy's for the first time, in fact I was in a small minority as a Blade. Lived with it all through school. Played football every week with David Ford but lost touch when he dared to join Wednesday. Two best mates are Wendy's, the year of the Ched debacle was the worst ever.

 

[More Bladier than thou]

when they ruined my day out at wembley 93. i saw chris waddle in the leadmill a few years back and told him this, he laughed, apologised then bought me a drink. top bloke........for a pig

 

[bornablade]

The fact that the 'dislike' started at school for so many Blades really sums up that the rivalry in Sheffield is without doubt one of the most fiercest rivalries in UK football. I cannot understand how people talk of the intense rivalry between Sunderland / Newcastle or Derby / Forest etc. when they didn't even live in the same cities when they were growing up. Their rivalry wasn't formed in school playgrounds or on the estates where they grew up.

I would even go as far as to say Man City / Man Utd are not real rivals as most Man Utd fans were not brought up in Manchester.

I knew a Blade who was a bit of an expert on Neuro Linguistic Programming. He would 'nip' his baby son and repeat the words 'Sheffield Wednesday.' The boy's grown up obviously hating the Wendies

Suppose he'd get reported these days but in those days it was called character building

 

[shorehamview]

My love of the Blades and dislike of Wednesday comes from my grandma. My dad was never bothered about football, as a copper he'd seen enough of the fans scrapping to last him a lifetime. But my grandma instilled in me a love of United and a dislike of the unclean from S6. Not a real hatred, but a definite dislike. I've worked with pigs that have been decent blokes, and my father-in-law is a pig although in all other aspects he's a bloody good bloke, but I still come across the occasional big-headed deluded halfwit pig that makes me want to scream.

I've brainwashed Small SV in all ways United that she has repeatedly told her pig grandad that she'll never turn to the Dark Side as she is a Blade like her father before her...

 

[sothall blade]

I think of it as a political thing. (no, really, stick with me!)

I went to King Teds in the sixties. Hillsborough had been recently built - interest-free loans, chosen for the 66 World Cup, 'friends - Eric Taylor etc. - in high places' nothing really changes. To be fair, their cantilever stand was awesome back then and we had the old, wooden John Street stand, tin-shed kop, no stand on the south side etc.

To say we felt like the poor relations was an understatement. In 1970 - back in the day when the FA Cup draw was made live on radio at lunchtime - we all gathered round somebody's trannie (portable radio to you, son!). Noticeable in the crowd were the prefects - all tall, well-bred, good-looking bastards and, without exception, Wednesday fans (probably now being chased by Operation Yewtree). When it came out we were at home to Everton a huge cheer went up. We had no chance but, what should have been a celebration for Sheffield football turned into another opportunity for those bastards to take the piss.

Around that time, Santos of Brazil (including Pele) played a friendly at Hillsborough on a midweek afternoon. In assembly the headmaster asked 'who would like the afternoon off to watch Sheffield Wednesday?' A huge cheer went up 300-odd boys put their hands up. For a laugh, he asked 'Is there anybody who doesn't want the afternoon off?' One hand went up. Mine.

So began my career as a Blade, Wednesday-hater and all-round Bolshie bastard! (Something that continues to this day!)

In the late 80s, I moved to S10. Went into the local for the first time and it seemed that everybody supported Wednesday. Never mind. Another challenge! It hit home after the 1993 semi at Wembley. When we finally all limped home a day or two later, an overbearing cunt of a pig fan gleefully told me that, for the match, the place was 'absolutely packed with Wednesdayites watching the match on TV.' I replied 'Yeah. That's the difference. We Blades went to the match. You lot just surrounded yourselves with like-minded, big-gobbed bastards on a mutual-appreciation day.' (N.B. Wednesdayites know, deep down that their team is shite but, like Scotland football supporters, think that if they surround themselves with fellow-delusionals, it'll make them good. It won't.)

And that's where the 'political' bit comes in. Just like people on the left wing have no qualms about impressing their views onto people (the BBC is packed with them), people like Michael Vaughan, that cunt from Reverend and the Makers etc. and getting endless opportunities to mouth off (see Heaven, Football or Grumble, Praise and), the 'local' media is obviously biased to the cunts as well. Us? We're 'built' in a totally different way. More modest. We keep our heads down and just get on with the many disappoinments that are thrown our way.

As well as being utterly different to the blue-nosed bastards, we also possess a quirky, anarchic humour, pragmatism and an off-the-wall view of life. (Despite their latest, pathetic attempt could Wednesday - or the fans of any other club come to that - have come up with 'The Greasy Chip Butty Song'? We don't really care what anybody else thinks (but not in that Millwall, 'no one likes us, we don't care' thuggish way). We're the Sankt Pauli of English football.

When we have some minor trouble at home games, they shut half the fucking stand down. I wonder what slap on the wrist Villa will get? We were cheated of our place in the Premier, are regularly on the end of shocking refereeing decisions in big matches (2003 FA- and League Cup semis come to mind), but we plod on.

We're different and thank fuck for that. Just look at their 'fans' who ruined the city while they 'worked' for SCC. - Betts, Blunkett, Ashdown, Hattersley. Cunts every one (and that continues the political theme - supporting Wendy has always been synonymous with being a pinko.)

Most people accept that you end up supporting the team your dad supported/took you to see when you were a kid. Not in my case! I'm convinced that, had my dad been a pig - or if I'd given in to the incredible pressures when I was growing up - I would have naturally gravitated to the Blades. Why? Because the Blades are different. And so am I.

And for those who say 'I don't care what Wednesday do.' Nonsense. Part of the package in supporting a team is hating your nearest rivals. After all, they're hell-bent on destroying our prospects. (Witness RS not letting the ludicrous Jordan Rhodes rumours to die down. 'I don't believe it, but you never know...' All part of the endless, subliminal message the local media force-feed us with.)

Imagine you next-door neighbour suddenly parking a Ferrari on his drive. You go out, admire it and congratulate him.

Then you think 'Cunt.'

well said mate, but you missed outThe Star,s biased headline Save Our Owls campaign in the 70s

 

[Billytheblade]

It was about 2.50pm on the 5th February 1961, the day I was born!!

Hate the BASTARDS

 

[WhiteHawk]

TBH, I don't hate Wednesday, I just don't give a shit about them.