Читать книгу Steel City Rivals - One City. Two Football Clubs, One Mutually Shared Hatred - Steve Cowens - Страница 18

Just as we thought we had put Wednesday in their rightful place, we got a nasty shock when Wednesday ran us after the Tony Kenworthy Testimonial in 1987. Maybe we had adopted the same disregard for Wednesday that they had had for us a few years earlier. One thing is for sure, that night we got caught out by a Wednesday firm that were desperate for a result against us.

That night was by far the worst I have felt after being run at football. Such is the hatred and rivalry in our city, even Testimonials were an excuse for both firms to have a dig. In the previous couple of years, we’d had Wednesday off quite a few times, so, on the night of Kenworthy’s Testimonial, we didn’t expect to be going home with our tails firmly between our legs. It’s no good trying to gloss over the events with excuses: we got done, simple as.

Everyone gets turned over from time to time but it’s a bitter pill to swallow when it’s your fiercest rivals that have had you on your toes.

Neither firm had gone to the game, although I went and was well pleased with myself, as I acquired Kenworthy’s shirt on the pitch at the final whistle. Kenworthy had been a United centre-half for 12 years after coming through the youth system. I liked how he played; he took no shit, was physical and played with his heart on his sleeve. He and another tough character, Scotsman John McPhail, forged a successful no-nonsense centre-half pairing.

The few years leading up to this game had seen us leg Wednesday’s firm on numerous occasions, so we were pretty confident that we had now got the upper hand. It never entered our heads that we would end up on the back foot that night.

After the match, we’d arranged to meet up at the Lansdowne at the bottom of London Road. It was quite a mixed United mob that stood outside when I arrived. There were a lot of passengers and lads who didn’t really want to fight but felt it was their duty to show their face as, after all, this was Wednesday. In all, around 70 lads set off into town via the back-walks to avoid the police’s attention.

Of that number, around 35 of the crew were our regular lads, enough to take care of business, I thought. Once in town, we emerged at the side of Henry’s wine bar. We caught sight of Wednesday who were further down the road at the side of the not-so-aptly named Peace Gardens. The pre-brawl roar went up and we ran towards the Wednesday firm. Wednesday had around the same numbers as us and we traded punches in the road. They backed off a little as a distress flare dissected them; a leading Wednesday lad was bouncing about in the road holding a knife out in front of him. United’s firm surged and Wednesday started to wobble; at this point, I thought we had them on the go but, fair play, they held it together.

I had ended up at the side of the brawl and it was at this point that I realised that the 30 or so passengers we had with us were stood 20 yards behind the actual fighting and were just prancing around shouting. This meant that Wednesday had more lads up for it and, in their first actual charge, Wednesday had United’s frontline on the move. I ran in from the side and punched one but they had us on the hop. I watched with dismay as Wednesday ran United despite cries of ‘STAND’. Spenny, Hilly and myself looked on helplessly as our firm legged it. Herman who was an older Barmy Army lad stood on his own and Wednesday dragged him to the floor.

We went to his rescue as Wednesday’s vultures ragged him, while the rest of their firm continued the chase. Herman was furious and mumbled that he had finished with United as he dusted himself down; he was as good as his word and never turned out for United again. He’d been on the scene for two decades and was as game as they come but this day saw him retire from his hooligan days.

Hilly, Spenny and I ran up behind the Wednesday firm who were in hot pursuit of our lot. We were half hoping that United would turn it around but deep down we knew that, once you turn and run, you never get yourself back together. We could hear the sound of more brawling and, as we ran up at the back of Occasions nightclub, six Wednesday lads known to us came into view. The three of us were on one and I rushed forward to square up to them. One went to pull a knife out but Hilly knew him well and screamed at him to put it away. As we squared up, I ran and punched Lewis, a tall Wednesday Casual. He stumbled back and we ran at them making them do one.

Despite our little victory at the end, we knew we had been done and I went home totally dejected by the night’s events. Six arrests were made that night and a United youngster was stabbed during the brawl. I couldn’t sleep that night which shows the depth of feeling and how much being top dogs meant to us. I vowed that it would be a one-off and that we had to bounce back and prove that we were still number one.