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The good old days when married couples held hands and elderly ladies wore ankle boots, heavy coats and strange hats. Anyway she's probably only in her 30/40s....And one from my neck of the woods. Coo Hill in Woodhouse, can't find a date but I reckon late 70s
100% agree Magnet was king, but circumstances dictate any port in a storm, hence the old saying "there's no bad beer just some are better than others". In times of yore one or two pints of Magnet during transference from work to domesticity smoothed the unwinding process. Three Tuns, Leopold St., Brown Bear and Queens Head, depending which direction I was coming from.
Please go on, not boring at all, it's the mundane that's often more interesting. In your own time obviously.Interesting stuff on Tennant's brewery guys and thanks for stirring childhood memories for me.
My dad worked at Tennant's in 50's & 60's ( he died in '68). As a young lad, in school holidays generally, my mum would send me down to his workplace in the brewery (somewhere in the cellars) with his glasses he'd forgot that morning, on the pretext he was 'blind' without them.
I'd be around 10 or 11 at time and society allowed such minors to get a bus into Pond street and walk to Millsands quite safely.
I strolled to the lorry loading bay where I had to ask for an Irish bloke named Bernard, who I used to introduce myself as Bill's lad. He'd guide me down into the cellars where my dad would be feeling his way around the walls shouting for my mother....I'd hand him his glasses and he'd realise he was at work.
As a reward my dad would take me to this small glass fronted room which contained a beer pump dispensing Tennant's Queens ( a signature beer of theirs), pull half and give me a sup, exclaiming as I gulped it down, " that'll keep thi bowels oppen".
He would, quite regularly, arrive home, three parts pissed from their daily quota they were allowed to have (obviously abused ).
Whitbread's bought Tennant's over early 60's I think and 'Queens' disappeared, much to my dad's disgust.
I could go on......but I won't bore you anymore
My autograph hunting days had ended by then. Must have become a whole lot harder, as there was an incredible knowledge around of which teams would be on which train. Even in Sheffield, if a Midlands team had been in the north-east, they would be passing through Sheffield on a Saturday evening. You had to make sure you were off the train again sharpish before it set off again. And if you were lucky enough to travel on the same train as the Utd players (to Bristol, say), you were guaranteed a full set of autographs, and a bit of chat.
Yes that's got to be the Stag, only remember it from Harvest Lane side. Wheatsheaf was almost diagonally opposite, corner Platt St and Harvest Lane, got to be a photo of it, thanks I'll keep looking.
Andy King, John Cutbush and Jim Brown. Blades 0 Everton 3 in August 1977. League Cup match
Ok, you asked for it
Great story. Just pray that Blade56 doesn't read it!Ok, you asked for it
Tennants did an employee's kids Christmas treat.
One year when I was around 7 or 8 the treat was a trip to Belle Vue circus in Manchester.
My dad put my name down and my only condition was that he'd be going with me. Assurances were forthcoming.
Now Manchester might as well have been Australia as far as my childlike head was concerned, a world away for a kid whose only trip away from the lower Arbourthorne had been once to Cleethorpes on the WMC club day trip.
Come the day, we caught the bus on East Bank road to Pond street and walked to Millsands where the coach awaited
All the parents and kids shuffled forward as the coach door opened and my dad was first on getting me the seat at the front, to my delight.
Alas, my delight turned to horror as he quickly informed me he wasn't going and deposited his workmates son (a year or two older than me) on the next seat exclaiming "he'll look after you, you'll be alright".
I was horrified and as the journey to Manchester unfolded I became more and more scared I was never going to see my parents or Sheffield ever again.
The actual circus passed without me taking any notice of it as all I wanted was to go home to mi mam.
When we got back my dad was waiting on Millsands and had obviously spent the day sampling the previously mentioned free beer pump down in the cellars.
My mum was livid with him (as usual) for hoodwinking me into thinking he was going too...
Oddly enough, the kid who 'chaperoned' me (he never spoke all day!) turned out to be my future wife's cousin (dad's workmate being her uncle).
Strange coincidence...
Hated fuckin circuses ever since!
I did a similar thing in the Frog and Parrot. Couple of pints of Reckless, felt OK. Then someone suggested a Roger and Out weshed down with another Reckless. I managed to carry on drinking through the night but it’s as pissed as I’ve ever been and I could remember very little of the rest of the night.
From the photo the Stag appears to have been on Wilson Street, not Platt Street. I think it must have been on the corner opposite this building but it is not there anymore.
His Bertship in attendance.One for Greenwich Blade and a few others. Lynryd Skynyrd 1977 at the City Hall. I think I spy a valve amp there
Just dug this out of (yet another) cupboard. From 1975:One for Greenwich Blade and a few others. Lynryd Skynyrd 1977 at the City Hall. I think I spy a valve amp there
Yes. Peter Sutcliffe stalking one of his first victims. Was it a mucky film at the Classic as the bloke on the right with glasses is strangely engrossed in something.
Eric Morecambe appears to be enjoying himself.
You're about to get a clout from that woman you just goosed between you and the perv.
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