Little known facts about the Blades and (ex)Blades
- Thread starter Linz
- Start date
All advertisments are hidden for logged in members, why not log in/register?
Escafeld
aint gorra barrel
The Blades were the first European side to win a game at the Estadio Hernando Siles in La Paz, Bolivia when they beat Mariscal Santa Cruz 3-1 as part of the club's South American tour of 1967.
Another little known fact about that game is that I am responsible for the line up details in the Complete Record book after I looked up the (suprsingly detailed) report in the relevant Bolivian newspaper at the Colindale newspaper library.
This is a long one, but trust me, it's worth it.
Taken from Peter Ndlovu's Diary:
In February 2000, Nelson Mandela began hosting weekly dinner parties to celebrate 10 years of freedom.
On the third weekend in February it was the turn of the best footballers from each African nation to visit the great man himself. Being a well known Zimbabwean footballer, I had a gut feeling I would be asked to the party and to my delight my invite arrived in the post 4 days before we were due to attend. I was both nervous and excited, not only was I going to enjoy the company of a very special man, I was also going to be sat down with some on my biggest footballing nemesis, all of whom have claimed to be better than me at some time.
The night itself came around very quickly. I opted for a navy suit, white shirt and dark brown belt and shoes. I looked quite dapper if I say so myself; Japhet N'Doram's wife seemed to think so! Upon arrival, we were ushered through to a large dining area, and I noticed familiar faces straight away. Once everyone was seated, Nelson came into the room and greeted us all individually. "Ah, Peter", he said as he placed his hands on my shoulders, "Beautiful goal against West Brom in '95, a superb finish". I smiled. All I could muster was a "Thank you", before he moved on.
We started off with a salmon dish. It had a slight chilli taste to it if I remember correctly, but was lovely nonetheless. A sourbet course was not essential a few years back. We used wine and ale to cleanse our pallets like real men should! We moved straight onto the main; roast beef with all the trimmings, Nelson's personal favourite. I thoroughly enjoyed mine, although the gravy was a little stodgy. Dessert was to be trifle, but we did not get round to eating this, and this is where my story gets rather interesting.....
As the drinks flowed, a few of the more boastful players started to act up. George Weah was giving it some, "I am the greatest African player of all time, I could win against 5 players on my own", he declared, with food still in his mouth. He was eyeballing me, and several other players as he said this, but because of where we were, few were going to respond until,
"That's b*llocks", piped up Rashid Yekini. "I could beat you in a one on one any day, I believe the African Gods have blessed me with talent that no other man possesses". It started to get nasty, alcohol fuelled players were squaring up to each other, Abedi Pele was screaming "LIAR, LIAR" at Weah, whilst waving a small giraffe ornamental centre piece in the air.
I decided to sit tight and watch the seens unfold around me. Taribo West, who had managed to blag an invite by posing as Yekini's girlfriend, was gunning for both Pele and Weah, leaning over the table to get to them. I looked at Hossam Hassan and frowned. He winked back at me but I could see the disbelief in his eyes at what was happening.
Nelson stood up and thumped his hands down hard on the table. Everyone stopped in their tracks, Abedi Pele was mid sentence, "I'll prove it to yo......".
We all stopped and looked at Nelson, waiting for him to say something. He leaned forward slightly, his kaftan hung low revealing his chest. He cleared his throat and said in a deliberate but whispery manner, "I have a full sized replica goal in the back yard. I will be goalkeeper and you will all take it in turn to take penalties at me. If you miss, you're out. Score, and you're through to the next round. We will settle this nonsense once and for all. In my eyes, you are all great players, otherwise you would not be here. But, if you behave like children, I will treat you like children. I hope I have made myself clear. Now, follow me to the back garden."
I couldn't believe it. This was unreal. Both Weah and Yekini looked utterly embarrassed but we all followed Mandela out through the double patio doors and into his back garden towards the goal. "Winnie, Winnie", he shouted, "Come out. You shall be ball boy". Winnie appeared from the kitchen, wearing nothing more than a silk dressing gown. She slipped on some trainers and joined us all outside. "Get yourself behind the goal then Dear", said Nelson, and she scuttled off behind the net, positioning herself just in front of the conifers.
"Now", proclaimed Nelson, "Get in line, no arguing. Lets start this thing". He pulled a pair of Sondico gloves from his kaftan, slipped them on and asked Roger Milla to tighten the velcro strap for him. We, the players, were all lined up and ready to shoot. I was to take the 7th penalty.
Everyone scored their first penalty. Fabrice Akwa was lucky, Nelson had tipped his shot onto the post but it crept in. The first casualty of the shoot-out was Dennis Oliech, who spooned his shot over and into the grateful arms of Winnie. Others soon followed, even the boastful Yekini fell by the wayside in the 4th round of penalties. I was calm, slotting my kicks home with aplomb and really enjoying myself.
Abedi Pele came third overall. Nelson pushed his shot to safety and it left just two players, myself and Weah to compete in the final. All the other players were sat round watching in anticipation. Nelson was doing the old 'wobbly legs' trick to try and put us off. Weak looked at me, "You're going down, Peter Loser-love", he snared. I said nothing, I wanted to maintain my focus and stay composed. Weah scored, I scored. Weah scored again, but so did I. This happened for 7 rounds and it was a truly great affair. As George went to take his 8th penalty, Nelson told us to stop. He declard us joint winners in front of everyone. I was happy. I knew I didn't have to prove myself to anyone, yes, it would have been nice, but I had done well and been declared joint winner.
We were congratulated by our fellow players, and then asked to go back inside for our dessert. I was buzzing, it was a truly great night, being able to blast penalties at Nelson alongside fellow African players, some of whom I regard highly.
As we left that night, Nelson pulled me to one side. "Peter, you were the true winner out there today. A model professional who sees no need to boast". As he said this, he slipped a small package into my pocket and walked off. The butler handed me my coat and I got into the waiting taxi outside.
I suppose you are all wondering what Nelson had given me? Well, I opened up the pink tissue paper, and inside was a fridge magnet. On it, was the poem 'If' by Rudyard Kipling. I smiled to myself. What a truly amazing day. What a man Nelson is and what a gesture. The magnet still sticks to my fridge and I will cherish it forever.
Thank you for listening.
Taken from Peter Ndlovu's Diary:
In February 2000, Nelson Mandela began hosting weekly dinner parties to celebrate 10 years of freedom.
On the third weekend in February it was the turn of the best footballers from each African nation to visit the great man himself. Being a well known Zimbabwean footballer, I had a gut feeling I would be asked to the party and to my delight my invite arrived in the post 4 days before we were due to attend. I was both nervous and excited, not only was I going to enjoy the company of a very special man, I was also going to be sat down with some on my biggest footballing nemesis, all of whom have claimed to be better than me at some time.
The night itself came around very quickly. I opted for a navy suit, white shirt and dark brown belt and shoes. I looked quite dapper if I say so myself; Japhet N'Doram's wife seemed to think so! Upon arrival, we were ushered through to a large dining area, and I noticed familiar faces straight away. Once everyone was seated, Nelson came into the room and greeted us all individually. "Ah, Peter", he said as he placed his hands on my shoulders, "Beautiful goal against West Brom in '95, a superb finish". I smiled. All I could muster was a "Thank you", before he moved on.
We started off with a salmon dish. It had a slight chilli taste to it if I remember correctly, but was lovely nonetheless. A sourbet course was not essential a few years back. We used wine and ale to cleanse our pallets like real men should! We moved straight onto the main; roast beef with all the trimmings, Nelson's personal favourite. I thoroughly enjoyed mine, although the gravy was a little stodgy. Dessert was to be trifle, but we did not get round to eating this, and this is where my story gets rather interesting.....
As the drinks flowed, a few of the more boastful players started to act up. George Weah was giving it some, "I am the greatest African player of all time, I could win against 5 players on my own", he declared, with food still in his mouth. He was eyeballing me, and several other players as he said this, but because of where we were, few were going to respond until,
"That's b*llocks", piped up Rashid Yekini. "I could beat you in a one on one any day, I believe the African Gods have blessed me with talent that no other man possesses". It started to get nasty, alcohol fuelled players were squaring up to each other, Abedi Pele was screaming "LIAR, LIAR" at Weah, whilst waving a small giraffe ornamental centre piece in the air.
I decided to sit tight and watch the seens unfold around me. Taribo West, who had managed to blag an invite by posing as Yekini's girlfriend, was gunning for both Pele and Weah, leaning over the table to get to them. I looked at Hossam Hassan and frowned. He winked back at me but I could see the disbelief in his eyes at what was happening.
Nelson stood up and thumped his hands down hard on the table. Everyone stopped in their tracks, Abedi Pele was mid sentence, "I'll prove it to yo......".
We all stopped and looked at Nelson, waiting for him to say something. He leaned forward slightly, his kaftan hung low revealing his chest. He cleared his throat and said in a deliberate but whispery manner, "I have a full sized replica goal in the back yard. I will be goalkeeper and you will all take it in turn to take penalties at me. If you miss, you're out. Score, and you're through to the next round. We will settle this nonsense once and for all. In my eyes, you are all great players, otherwise you would not be here. But, if you behave like children, I will treat you like children. I hope I have made myself clear. Now, follow me to the back garden."
I couldn't believe it. This was unreal. Both Weah and Yekini looked utterly embarrassed but we all followed Mandela out through the double patio doors and into his back garden towards the goal. "Winnie, Winnie", he shouted, "Come out. You shall be ball boy". Winnie appeared from the kitchen, wearing nothing more than a silk dressing gown. She slipped on some trainers and joined us all outside. "Get yourself behind the goal then Dear", said Nelson, and she scuttled off behind the net, positioning herself just in front of the conifers.
"Now", proclaimed Nelson, "Get in line, no arguing. Lets start this thing". He pulled a pair of Sondico gloves from his kaftan, slipped them on and asked Roger Milla to tighten the velcro strap for him. We, the players, were all lined up and ready to shoot. I was to take the 7th penalty.
Everyone scored their first penalty. Fabrice Akwa was lucky, Nelson had tipped his shot onto the post but it crept in. The first casualty of the shoot-out was Dennis Oliech, who spooned his shot over and into the grateful arms of Winnie. Others soon followed, even the boastful Yekini fell by the wayside in the 4th round of penalties. I was calm, slotting my kicks home with aplomb and really enjoying myself.
Abedi Pele came third overall. Nelson pushed his shot to safety and it left just two players, myself and Weah to compete in the final. All the other players were sat round watching in anticipation. Nelson was doing the old 'wobbly legs' trick to try and put us off. Weak looked at me, "You're going down, Peter Loser-love", he snared. I said nothing, I wanted to maintain my focus and stay composed. Weah scored, I scored. Weah scored again, but so did I. This happened for 7 rounds and it was a truly great affair. As George went to take his 8th penalty, Nelson told us to stop. He declard us joint winners in front of everyone. I was happy. I knew I didn't have to prove myself to anyone, yes, it would have been nice, but I had done well and been declared joint winner.
We were congratulated by our fellow players, and then asked to go back inside for our dessert. I was buzzing, it was a truly great night, being able to blast penalties at Nelson alongside fellow African players, some of whom I regard highly.
As we left that night, Nelson pulled me to one side. "Peter, you were the true winner out there today. A model professional who sees no need to boast". As he said this, he slipped a small package into my pocket and walked off. The butler handed me my coat and I got into the waiting taxi outside.
I suppose you are all wondering what Nelson had given me? Well, I opened up the pink tissue paper, and inside was a fridge magnet. On it, was the poem 'If' by Rudyard Kipling. I smiled to myself. What a truly amazing day. What a man Nelson is and what a gesture. The magnet still sticks to my fridge and I will cherish it forever.
Thank you for listening.
This is the funniest sentence i have read in a long while.
Torrix1889
A reight Bobby Dazzler
No this is the funniest sentence i have read in a long while
maxtheblade
Member
Disappointed Kriss Akabusi didn't make an appearance in that story...
broomhillblade
On the move
Did Peter Ndlovu really write that - or has it been spiced up by a ghost writer? I can't imagine Nuddy being able to type anything in those red woollen gloves. 
Did Peter Ndlovu really write that - or has it been spiced up by a ghost writer? I can't imagine Nuddy being able to type anything in those red woollen gloves.
His Diary entries paint a picture of a man who is mentally ill. I'm not sure he wrote them at all! Unfortunately I can't find the website atm, I'll have to ask my mate who pointed me in the right direction in the first place. I saved the above story because I loved it so much
Bath Blade
Well-Known Member
- Joined
- Aug 7, 2009
- Messages
- 2,715
- Reaction score
- 3,855
Juan Sebastien Veron grew up with the ambition of one day playing for the Blades.
Or how about the little known fact that we once nearly signed Diego Maradona.
Or how about the little known fact that we once nearly signed Diego Maradona.
shorehamview
Pink Sambuca drinking World Champion.
This is as big a secret as the name of the ground we play at.
TonyAgana
Well-Known Member
- Joined
- Sep 2, 2005
- Messages
- 6,576
- Reaction score
- 2,306
You might be right, but I thought it was just Bramall Lane that was the first ground to have floodlights and the first game was an FA cup tie (semi?) in which we were not involved. Hazy pub-quiz incling, but I think that's right.
Revolution
Well-Known Member
- Joined
- Aug 12, 2009
- Messages
- 13,392
- Reaction score
- 22,421
You might be right, but I thought it was just Bramall Lane that was the first ground to have floodlights and the first game was an FA cup tie (semi?) in which we were not involved. Hazy pub-quiz incling, but I think that's right.
That's right. The first floodlit game was at the Lane, in 1878 I think. United did not exist at the time, of course. It was a friendly game of some description.
I don't know who was the 1st team to have permanent floodlights installed but it wasn't United, I don't think.
That's right. The first floodlit game was at the Lane, in 1878 I think. United did not exist at the time, of course. It was a friendly game of some description.
I don't know who was the 1st team to have permanent floodlights installed but it wasn't United, I don't think.
Brian Deane scored the first ever goal in the premier league.
I know we all know that, but the rest of the world seems to be completly unaware of the fact. I don't think I am being over paranoid to suggest that if someone playing for Man Utd or Arsenal had done the deed, we would never stop hearing about it...
I know we all know that, but the rest of the world seems to be completly unaware of the fact. I don't think I am being over paranoid to suggest that if someone playing for Man Utd or Arsenal had done the deed, we would never stop hearing about it...
derrywan
Member
- Joined
- Apr 17, 2007
- Messages
- 563
- Reaction score
- 92
That's an absurd fact.
JJ Sefton
Live, Laugh, Love
Dont shoot the messenger...
The squad for the start of the 1968/1969 season was the first squad it would be impossible to squeeze into a Mini.
derrywan
Member
- Joined
- Apr 17, 2007
- Messages
- 563
- Reaction score
- 92
Eskimo
Member
We are the first UNITED
Not quite. Thornhill United, a predecessor of Rotherham United, beat us to it:
http://www.historicalkits.co.uk/Rotherham_United/Rotherham_United.htm.
We are, however, the oldest United amongst current PL and FL clubs, and may be the oldest United football club of any type still in existence (though I stand to be corrected on that).
Similar threads
All advertisments are hidden for logged in members, why not log in/register?