Old Photos For No Reason Whatsoever

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We lost 3:0 at Oldham 17th December 77, remember it well, stood on their wooden kop with loads of Blades. The result spoilt otherwise a good day out.
I remember it very well, it was my 21st birthday and that was my present from Sheffield United!
To make things worse the car ran out of petrol on the M1 on the way home due to a faulty petrol gauge so I was late to my own 21st celebrations.
 
I had a proper mallet with a dome of leather on the end, I think my Dad got from Archers. First bat I got had hours of linseed rubbing, then knocking with the mallet, then hours knocking up with an old ball. Bats back then were made of pressed willow, making them very hard, but brittle if they weren't seasoned properly, modern bats aren't pressed in the same way, one of the reasons they are so much bigger. A pressed willow bat of current dimensions would weigh a ton.
Later when I got seriously into the game, I bought a Duncan Fearnley bat, with a polyplastic coating, one of the earliest to not need any pre-treatment. Still the best bat I ever had.
Riva
I remember a job I was working on a joiner who owned a lovely Cortina M3 2000E turned up one morning came in the cabin and said to the lads who were getting changed ready for graft “come and look at my new car”
And there it was a brand new Lada.
Everybody broke down in hysterics :)
View attachment 76902
 
Another from the roof of Telephone House March 1983. Facing roughly North West. In the centre is the former Mount Zion Chapel, which was incorporated into the outpatients dept of the Royal Hospital.View attachment 76895

And one from further towards the north

View attachment 76896

Just think how many of us might be in or on those photos, as such, yer know, unseen. Little specks.
 

Monday 18th June 1984, I was waiting in the early morning outside the Cathedral in beautiful sunshine, complete with rucksake, for my mate Ben Duke, a well-known character at gigs as he was the only black dude wearing an afghan coat, ready to start my first ever hitch, Sheffield to Stonehenge for the infamous Free Festival. Anyway, there was construction work of some description taking place nearby and I observed a builder wandering up and down; on the front his t-shirt bore the legend, "I've got a bear behind," and on the back there was...

The Hofmeister Bear. Funny what you remember.
 
Still plenty Dee data na den going of In Sheffield we had a family do not long back and my daughters video it it was embarrassing anybody who wasn’t from Sheffield wouldn’t have understood us.
I don't really speak like that, but I can. It's sad and childish, but I tend to do it more if I'm in southern England, or if I'm talking southerners up here! 😂😂😂
 
Monday 18th June 1984, I was waiting in the early morning outside the Cathedral in beautiful sunshine, complete with rucksake, for my mate Ben Duke, a well-known character at gigs as he was the only black dude wearing an afghan coat, ready to start my first ever hitch, Sheffield to Stonehenge for the infamous Free Festival. Anyway, there was construction work of some description taking place nearby and I observed a builder wandering up and down; on the front his t-shirt bore the legend, "I've got a bear behind," and on the back there was...

The Hofmeister Bear. Funny what you remember.

Monday 18th June 1984. The Battle of Orgreave.

And people today think they are living in a police state because they've been asked not to gather in groups in parks.
 
Monday 18th June 1984. The Battle of Orgreave.

And people today think they are living in a police state because they've been asked not to gather in groups in parks.

I went to Dinno Comp and lived in Anston. Every time you took the back roads into Notts or Derbys, you got pulled up by Essex/Herts/Met plod who didn't have a clue why you might want to go to another village and had been told to be twats to the locals.

A lot of lads from school worked at the pit (tricians, fitters etc. and facework for the ruffians).

One lad from Anston (RIP) worked at Creswell (Derbys) and despite most drifting back, he stayed out all through the strike. He was due on nights after the strike and went sick on the first day to be sure he was the last one back. He could be a right twat, but bloody hell did he have typical Yorkshire stubborn principles.
 

Monday 18th June 1984. The Battle of Orgreave.

And people today think they are living in a police state because they've been asked not to gather in groups in parks.

That's right; the first lift we got was with a chap who had been diverted from his usual route by the police so we knew something was brewing. From then on every lift we had, Ben would start the conversation by telling our latest benefactor about the re-routing plight of our first driver and he'd then say, "I think this country is turning into a police state - what do you think?" Ben, as senior hitchhiker, was always in the front, and this curious opening gambit led to some interesting conversations, especially with one Tory-voting small-business-owner. Ben and him were having a no-holds-barred screaming match in the front whilst I winced in the back thinking, "Well, we're going to get chucked out if Ben keeps arguing back like this." In the end they were so busy arguing that the driver didn't notice he had run out of petrol. He managed to freewheel off the M1 and into some Derbyshire settlement before the car ground to a halt. Ben was then dispatched off with a can to get some petrol from the nearest garage, the driver turning to me in the back and saying, "What a character!"

One year later was The Battle of the Beanfield.
 
That's right; the first lift we got was with a chap who had been diverted from his usual route by the police so we knew something was brewing. From then on every lift we had, Ben would start the conversation by telling our latest benefactor about the re-routing plight of our first driver and he'd then say, "I think this country is turning into a police state - what do you think?" Ben, as senior hitchhiker, was always in the front, and this curious opening gambit led to some interesting conversations, especially with one Tory-voting small-business-owner. Ben and him were having a no-holds-barred screaming match in the front whilst I winced in the back thinking, "Well, we're going to get chucked out if Ben keeps arguing back like this." In the end they were so busy arguing that the driver didn't notice he had run out of petrol. He managed to freewheel off the M1 and into some Derbyshire settlement before the car ground to a halt. Ben was then dispatched off with a can to get some petrol from the nearest garage, the driver turning to me in the back and saying, "What a character!"

One year later was The Battle of the Beanfield.

Good post but the Battle of the Beanfield vs. Orgreave?

Like Baghdad Airport 1990 vs. Stalingrad.
 
Good post but the Battle of the Beanfield vs. Orgreave?

Like Baghdad Airport 1990 vs. Stalingrad.

I wasn't necessarily comparing the two, rather bringing to attention the fact that one year on there was an event that came about as a result of the festival I was attending on that original occasion in 1984, and as it turned out many of the people involved in The Battle of the Beanfield became well-known to me not long afterwards. Having said that, the Beanfield was no love-in between police and hippies, especially if you consider the presence of women, children, and babies, and the destruction of people's homes, all of which ups it one or two notches in my memory, that's for sure.
 
RIP
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Would Mr Kites be on the top photo in 1983 ? Opposite the 2 parked cars

Owned by one of the Mooney family (Jimmy I think ) and managed for many years by a lovely bloke called Roy Mappin who I think was from the Ecclesfield area .

I met him not long ago and he's still going strong and cycles up to 10 miles a day well into his 80's .
 

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