I spent most of the 1960.s either fighting or avoiding projectiles. It was far more violent than the 1970's, contrary to popular belief.
My dad took me to Hillsborough in the 1950.s. Wendy were the glamour team with massive 50,000+ gates, but I wasnt happy there. All their fans had pristine scarfs and they all seemed middle-class. My first game at Bramall Lane was a revelation. It was chucking it down with rain, a 3 sided ground and muddy pitch[United were always better when the pitch was muddy}. And I noticed that the fans were rougher and more Working Class. All their scarfs were stained with beer, sweat, blood and semen. Straightaway I LOVED Sheffield United.
Throughout the 60's I followed United around the Country. I often hitched-hiked . ie: to Crystal Palace I hitched down the M1 at Tinsley when it was first opened. Fortunately, a lorry driver stopped and told me walking on the M1 was illegal! I hitched to Chelsea in a big Cup Tie. We were packed like sardines in a massive crowd. The Chelsea fans seated behind us p...ed on us all the game. After the match a group of their headhunters chased me so I ran into a chip shop and ran through the door at the back, sitting with the family who were having their tea. Later, I eventually hitched to Watford Gap and the incessant rain on me created steam to rise from the urine on my soaking clothes. At 4am I arrived at Derby Railway Station where I slept with dossers in the Waiting Room. At 9.50am Sunday I caught the bus to the Manor. Was I tired! And, of course, we lost! I was 16.
I went to Middlesborough when the game was postponed. We drank all day and I spewed up over a full table of beer. At the railway station after I was hit several times in the face when I was comotose on a bench. It felt like cotton wool. I was 16.
In the 1960's we usually went on the away end. there was little segregation and the Police/stewards werent proactive like they are now.
We battled on the Kop at Villa,Burnley, Stoke and many other grounds, even on the Shed at Chelsea on the last game of the season. We always at least held our own. I remember Bolton where their fans stormed in at 3.10pm with sticks and planks of wood. I ducked and my mate got his nose broke behind me!
Nobody seems to remember the Derby at Hillsbro when we took thousands of eggs and threw them at the Pigs below, chanting "scrambled eggs". I could write a book, but would probably get arrested.
My hero, at the time, other than Joe Shaw, was "Willy". I can still hear him now starting the chants off and could he fight! He was "the Man". Would love to know what hes doing now, although he will be getting on a bit!