from a Wigan fan

 

Apologies in advance to anyone who reads this and sees it as a Danny Dyeresque romp through the murky depths of 1980?s football hooliganism, this is how it was, this is what happened and this, marrers is why I detest Bolton Wanderers Football Club and it?s supporters with such a vengance! It takes two to tango sure, but it was the way that they danced that put them in a different league to any other fans, hoolies or otherwise that I?ve come across whilst watching Latics all these years.

 

It all started at the end of the 1981/82 season when they came to play in John Browns testimonial, after the match I found meself absent mindedly walking down First Avenue beside the little group of Bolton grufters who had spent the game stood in the corner near the supporters club, the little mob of Wiganers who had followed them out and across the car park gave the ?Come On? , I realised me mistake and was trying to scurry away to the other side of the street, too late

 

A rather portly chap came alongside me and cracked me on the back of the head, ?fcuk off yer little Wigan pussy? he said, I looked at him in a bemused ?What the hell was that for?? fashion and he did it again! ?fcuk this for a game o? soldiers? says I and swung a kick that missed it?s target miserably then legged it to a safe distance to watch these two little groups having pops at each other all the way up to Wallgate Station.It?d be over 18 months until our paths crossed again on Boxing Day 1983 and we all got off the free bus in our new Tachini and Fila Christmas presents, me heart skipped a beat as we walked across the cobbled car park towards the Tech and Park Road and a group of about 20 Bolton men came round the Gas Showrooms corner, the 6 of us had visions of spending Boxing Day inside a gas cooker, a couple of ?em came towards us ready for action, ?Leave ?em, they?re only kids..?, the two rejoined their mates without incident, we went our way, they went theirs, it was the last time I?d ever hear that phrase come from the lips of a Bolton Wanderers fan!

 

We lost one nil, there was a missed penalty, they packed out the Shevvy End and had plenty in the Wigan end during one of our rare forays into over 10,000sville for a League game, and some of them had walked it in fancy dress, who came a cropper on their way back as they trudged through Scholes and past the Balc I believe!

 

Anyway, it was an incident after the game that always sticks in me mind about this one, just as the game had finished a load of Bolton rushed through the open gates near the supporters club. We were at the top of the steps and who do yer reckon was at the front of these men at the bottom?, aye, uglier than a monkeys armpit in all his glory, 18 months on and still swiping out at anyone he didn?t recognize.There was a big set to on the steps and during the panic and scrapping and confusion a barrier went over on the terrace and it was all a bit chaotic but God, how I wanted to have a swing at that bastard!

 

I was upset about the result cos they?d come, won and took the piss and I was very upset about a big black mark on me new trainers as someone had stood on me foot during the melee at the end. It was a hell of a turn out for the away fixture, our first at Burnden Park, won 1-0 with a goal from a mon who got called things that in this politically correct day and age would have folk cringing!

 

?Is he t?first blackie we?ve ever had??

?Aye, I reckon so, but he?s only quarter past int he??

 

Weird as it sounds, even though there was 4,000 less on at Burnden than Springfield it seemed more, it was a Wigan following full of bravado before the game with everyone together in the pubs but the sign of things was come became evident as groups started splintering off, our lot got jumped on pretty badly coming out of the Sweet Green Tavern, we went onto a pub on Manchester Road and got a warm reception which spilled out into the traffic and the sort of carnival atmosphere with everyone together on the train turned into one where everyone was looking out for their own little groups, but that?s football, how it was, if you went away you took it as part and parcel of the crack and it was stomach churningly exciting it has to be said!

What we weren?t prepared for was what came after the match, we won, we were happy, they?d lost and they weren?t! The Bobbies started to escort us up Manchester Road, the home hordes were on the other side of the road, then, performing a trick that David Copperfield would surely be proud of, the coppers just disappeared , telling? yer, they were there one minute then they?d gone the next! Then just as silently the road disappeared as well as Bolton just came across it and joined us, as they used to say on The Banana Splits, ?Uh Oh,?Jungo?!?

 

They were in us, behind us, in front of us, kicking at our heels, knocking us into their mates in front and generally being a set of menacing bastards RUN WIGAN, FUCKIN? RUN! One of the twats shouted, how the hell could we? Where did you leg it to? So the kick offs started, little skirmishes that turned into big ones and lasted all the way up to the turn off for the station, blokes as old as me Dad wanting to kick me head in, amongst their young lads were fellas in their 40?s slapping and kicking boys barely out of school, yeah sure I felt belting in me Benetton top, me tight jeans with a flare at the bottom and trainers but instead of Benetton it could have read ?Punch Me!? with an advert on me arse saying ?Kick This!? which they did at regular intervals! The David Copperfield phenomenon struck again as we turned left up to go to the station, we had one last jousting session and then the Bobbies had suddenly appeared again!All smiles as we got up there,

 

?Enjoy your trip lads?? said one,

?Where the fcuk were you lot?? one lad said to him,

?What the fcuk did yer come here for then yer soft red ginger??, he had a point like but the folk who?d come on the train just to watch the match didn?t deserve to get the same sort of shit that we did, and a lot of what you?d class as innocents got thumped that day, the experience certainly affected some, as the next seasons turn out proved!

 

84/85 saw another Boxing Day derby at Springy, another 1-0 win for Latics but the crowd was over 1,200 down on the previous, they brought the same, beating them was beginning to feel not just better but fist and teeth clenchingly better, there was a big, big scrap on the crossroads at the Pagey, someone threw a big firecracker thing into them, it went off, tremendous BANG!

 

?That could?ve hit anyone!?

?Who fuckin? cares??

The bloke who answered must?ve had a stroll up Manchester Road the previous April

 

And on to our next April rendezvous at Burnden Park, Everyone was going but nobody came!, well, that?s a bit of a fib cos the following in the ground was excellent, it?s just that not many fancied getting there (and back) on the train! There were 14 young bucks at Wallgate at 12 o'clock, by 1pm the number had risen to 19! No mobile phones of course in them days, whoever didn?t turn up just didn?t, and can you blame anyone for being sensible when we were doing something rather foolish? Of course, football doesn?t work like that does it?, so curses were cast in the direction of those who had sense! One rather tall chap took matters in hand in the way that only he could (and still can!) and said ?We?ll go late?, so everyone camped in the Raven for a few drinks before getting a train at about 2.30, arriving at the station at about 10 to 3 the Bobbies were all waiting for us on the platform, along with two of ours who?d made it a bit earlier and met a few of the locals, ?Is this it?? said a plod as we took a right out of the station, with the bobbies all round us, by the time we were taking our next right turn down Manny Road the conjurers had been at it again, the cops being mysteriously replaced by local hoodlums who?d awaited our arrival, how the hell did they keep doing do that? At which point one of them said, ?Fuckin Ell, Is this it then?? !!The locals shepherded us down to the ground, I think everyone had at least one at the side of him with a nice number of them around us for good measure, no punching, no kicking just a weird silence and a sinister farewell as we turned for the ground, ?See yer all later boys! A mutual sharp intake of breath as we went in, again, the crowd was less than at Springy by over 2,500 this time and we lost, 1-0, well it had to be didn?t it?

 

It was the usual pantomime after the game, us, the good guys, against the panto villains, first in Police uniforms who?d taunt as they took us onto the main road about how ?their lads? were gonna eat us to be replaced by folk in a different kind of uniform made up of various foreign sportswear manufacturers who would fully take advantage of the numbers and have us put in our place, but we were there for Wigan Athletic and we didn?t give a fcuk, ?.oh yes we did, ?..oh no we didn?t,? sorry!!!

 

By the time we got back to the station and the shift changover I had a footprint on the back of my jacket and to be honest when you looked at how many folk had made the trip I was quite relieved that that was all I had! And so to 1985/86, a four game Bolton season, yummy yummy! It was actually New Years Day 1986 before our paths crossed and what a way to see in the New Year! A break from the 1-0?s saw us win 2-1 at Burnden, in front of a higher than Burnden average 9,000, apart from at Wembley in the Freight Rover I hadn?t celebrated a final whistle with such vigour and joy, just punching the air shouting ?Get in yer bassstrurds!? With it being New Years Day I?d gone on me todd on the coach, gone in the seats and scrawled me name in the bogs then got a transfer onto the terrace, then I saw a lad who I?d worked with who?d come with his Dad in the car, anyroad, the Hogmanay Hangover was kicking in so I asked if I could cadge a lift back to Wigan with ?em, not fancying the coach trip sat next to someone who knew bloody everything about everything, I know it was only a short journey, but believe me the trip in was like being sat next to Bamber Gascoigne on speed! Sorted! A lift back, so after the game we moseyed back to where the car was parked just past the Dog Track, and I?m smiling a little bit too much, in fact I?m virtually skipping and all but singing in the street at the result and the fact that for the first time we?d played Bolton I?d come out unscathed, as we got to the car a mon says to me,

?Good result eh??,

?ragging Beltin!? says I, then THWACK!, the red ginger gave me one right on the ear , a proper old burner/stinger then ran off!

Happy New Fuckin? Year!! OK, so it wasn?t big or clever but it happened!

To be continued in story below

Two seasons of festering hatred, frustration and loathing had got too much, some felt it was time to do something, make a mark, some thought it was smashing (sorry!), some thought it was a step too far but it?s now history that a huge group of Wiganers mobbed up in the Ball and Boot walked across town and broke nearly every window in the Market Tavern whilst a mob of Bolton were inside, that group stuck fast all the way to the ground cos it was inevitable that there?d be payback and the rumours went round, some of them beyond belief but they did and boy were Bolton revved up for anything after the game, (we?d heard, that they?d heard that a Bolton lad had been killed!, no wonder they were ragging mental!). On the pitch our promotion bid took a bit of a knock as they got revenge for the New Year's Day result and beat us convincingly 3-1, just over 8,000 continuing the trend of the home crowd getting smaller whilst Bolton still brought the same ugly masses, it was simmering, everyone could see it, they were itching to get out and take an equaliser for Wigan having the audacity to have an oppurtunist pop at them, of course the only people who didn?t notice were the Bobbies!

 

Culminating in the most idiotic piece of football policing I saw all through the mad days of the 1980?s, in the days when away fans could sometimes expect to wait half an hour before being allowed to leave the ground, they let Bolton out at the same time as Wigan! They came charging across the car park, it was pandemonium, they were whacking anyone who was in front of them, Wigan were giving some back but always on the back foot, the arrogance that we always saw at their place had been replaced by anger, I was seeing dickie birds by the time we got onto First Avenue and myself and a couple of other lads who still go and will remember it well made the choice to leg it, we legged it up the alleyway at the back, if Bolton had followed us down that particular alley we woulda been trapped cos it was a dead ender, they didn?t, probably didn?t even notice us going up there, but someone did, and as we leant against the wall catching breath and regaining heartbeats a few Bobbies came round the corner, awwww fcuk! ?What yer doing down here??, they were walking towards us with purpose, we knew what was coming and basically had to steel ourselves for it.?Nowt, just tryin? to get outta the road..?

 

A leather gloved fist connected with me chin, then another on the side of me head, me teeth rattled and the dickie birds came back, twittering around me head like some Tom and Jerry cartoon, every one of us got it, weird as fcuk when you can hear the noise from what was going off in the street over the houses as someone was knocking you out!, I'd gone: out for the count for a minute or two, ?fcuk this, I?m sick o? this, that?s me done wi? these bastards!? , well it was for that day cos I went straight home to slowly get me yed back together and wonder what sort of training those bobbies got that they could hit yer so fuckin? hard that your teeth still rattled 2 hours later!

 

Then we got them in the Northern Area Final, oh joy, yahooo! It was the Tuesday after a Bank Holiday, a total bender on the Merrydown culminating in a stopover in Coppull and getting in at 10 o?clock in the morning (remember that one Tufty?) after a snooze and a bath and the evils all day from me Mam it all came back, fuckin? ell it?s Bolton at home tonight! I was that wound up I couldn?t eat me tea, couldn?t swallow, had they got to me that much?, or was it the Mez doing the business on me? Well, after the reaction to the first sip of lager that night me question was answered, as I had to run out of the Springy to throw me guts up!! The Mez it was!The first competitive game at Springy against Bolton with less than 8,000 on (just under 7,000 in fact) ended in a 1-0 defeat, I?d just stood there and watched the game. In me delayed hangover state I couldn?t give a fcuk about the fat bastard in the Bolton scarf who jumped up and took the piss when they scored, (he got sorted anyway!) or them singing aabout going to Wembley or even when the cunts started singing ?Wigan, Wigan soft as shit..?, aye, reet!, I just wanted to go home, go to bed and sleeeeeeep!And that?s what I did, slept and mulled over the first time we?d played Bolton Wanderers without being at least thumped!, still, there?s always the 2nd leg!!

A rainy Friday night in Bolton, hardly the most romantic setting is it?, but, but, if things went right it could be the best night of our lives!, if we pulled back the 1-0 first leg deficit and Bristol Rovers got something at Derby we could be celebrating a return to Wembley and promotion to the 2nd Division in one go! Or we could end up with sweet fcuk all!! Due to me work at the time I had to do a dash home, SSS and go on the coach, a few of us were on, a quarter of voddy each for the journey to kill the pre match nerves and everything's tickety boo. If it turned out reet. In the weird way that football works we were still in with an outside chance of promotion and the game that hinged on it was being played at the same time as our Northern Final decider, again, moby phones were a decade in the future, and even the radio men who watched a game with a transistor stuck to their ear would struggle to get news.

 

The biggest crowd I?d seen at Bolton, just over 12,000 were in and the atmosphere was superb and we went in front, and then we heard with a little suspicion it has to be said that Bristol Rovers had scored at the Baseball Ground, ragging utopia, for a while at least. By the time it was all over we ended up with the fcuk all option that we?d dreaded, Bolton won 2-1 with their bastard fans on the pitch and giving it the big one from the enclosure (and paying for some folks chips and pudding later on!) and Derby got the promotion that they thought was their right just for having crowds of over 10,000 every week, I was gonna go back on the train, have the crack after the game but I was just numb from it all, I know I made the right choice in going back on the coach cos as I watched them filling the whole of Manchester Road, celebrating, singing Wemeberleeee, Wemberleee I detested every single last one of ?em.

 

There was no trouble around me that night, for the second time I was unscathed physically, but mentally? It wouldn?t have hurt as much if I?d been thrown into the middle of the King Billy as it did in my head and my heart after that one, God I ragging hated them!

1986/87 and a treble!, we did ?em three times!, and it turned out to be a momentous season for all seasoned Wanderers haters! OK one was only a Lancashire Manx Cup tie but they all count, and it was the most eventful of all three for me. The Manx Cup, pre season friendlies with a trophy, nothing matches aren't they? Well try telling it to those who went to Burnden in August ?86! It was pissing down again, summer rain which always makes for a good match on a fresh start of season pitch, and what a match, 4-3 to Wigan and it felt like we?d done ?em in the FA Cup! The small but dedicated band who went on the train will tell you how hairy it was after the match, like I say, Lancs Manx Cup or not, the feeling is just as strong, the main things that stick in my mind about that tramp up Manchester Road in the rain was it all going very quiet then the roar going up as they came at us, seeing Bestie's scooter crash helmet go flying across the road and seeing my brother thrown over the bonnet of a car, luckily for him it was stopped at some traffic lights but bloody hell, what must that poor bloke in the car have been thinking?

 

True to form the Bolton Plod were quick to jump on the Wiganers and me brother got another crack off one for having the cheek to be thrown onto a car in their town!, pre season friendlies, boring? Ha!

The September league win, 2-1 just highlighted the trend for Latics crowds at the time, less than 5,000 for a game v Bolton and crowds in general around the 3,500 mark to watch one of the most entertaining teams to wear the colours for us, there was the usual toing and froing at Springfield and some joyous jigging and pokery as we celebrated and dodged after doing them 2-1 at Burnden with goals from Jewell and Sir Bobby Campbell, it was a great old day despite me having to travel home with a ripped jumper, a Bobby on the station called me a scruffy red ginger!, me?, me? Well the reason my jumper was ripped was cos one of those bastards was trying to get it off me back, so at least they must?ve liked it!! And then it happened, after a pretty hairy day at Swindon in the inaugural play offs we saw our promotion bid go down, yeah we were pissed off, it was a good team, a great Latics team even but one thing made me and the people on the coach smile, nay laugh, naaaay go, ragging YESSS! The news came on the radio that Bolton Wanderers had been relegated to the 4th Divison after losing at home to Aldershot!!, one mon on the coach in particular hated them as much as me, he even used his hatred for them as his Cockney Latic username, you know who I mean! Me?, my summer was gonna be a whole lot better knowing that us, Wigan Athletic would be playing in a higher division than those twats in 87/88!!

And that was it, job done! We did end up playing them that season when they were down in the League Cup, Sir Bobby?s hat trick is part of Latics history and folklore, I missed my first Bolton game the season after due to having to work nights and the persecution of our club by our so called local authorities, if we?d have been able to play it at Springfield instead of Oldham I would have still had the 100% record, as it was I believe I missed a treat as a few of the lads from Oldham who we met in Germany in Euro ?88 joined in the fun! The late 80?s didn?t seem as dodgy for a while, or maybe my attitude was changing, I went to the abandoned away game in 88/89 but didn?t bother when it was replayed, delighted in Wayne Entwhistle putting one past them in the other 1-1 draw in the League that season, aye, good old Wayne! maybe I was growing up a bit, dunno, maybe, just maybe my hatred was waning a little. Then, a couple if incidents confirmed that like Mr Rscum it can never leave me, I?ll always have place for them in my brains section marked ?bastards?!

Firstly, a famous monumental kicking received in Bolton town centre after coming a cropper out of the back of a Tranny Van, it may have been our own fault to go there in the first place, we had, after all, been playing Rotherham away! But the sheer ferocity of the attack on me was something that will be with me till my last day on this mortal coil. I didn?t go to a Bolton game for a little while after that, but the second incident came during my first game back v Bolton, the first of the 1990?s, Brian Griffiths gave the bastards on the Shevvy End the fingers after scoring, wonderful!

 

We gubbed ?em 2-0 but Griffiths gesture said more, it said that in a period of struggle for the club the players felt it the same as us, they must have had the same feelings as us, were the Bolton players as arrogant and ragging horrible as their supporters? Griffiths reaction seemed to back up that, everything about the rivalry, or more our hatred for them touched every single person involved with Wigan Athletic, bollocks to giving Whelan the freedom of the Town, the bugger's already loaded, the Freedom of the Borough should have been awarded to Brian Griffiths, just for that!!!

 

As the new decade kicked in I wondered if I?d be full of the same feelings of loathing for them when the new century was coming round, haha, what do you think? And, if you didn?t have enough reasons to hate Bolton Wanderers, here?s another, remember, THEY are Maurice?s team!!!

Dont you just love it when you are hated like that.

I remember the FRT semi-final well. I was at both legs and if there were only 7,000 on in the first leg then there must have been at least 4,000 from Bolton at the grass bank end or at least it felt like it when we scored! The worst ground i have ever visited. FACT.

So he hates us becuase he came, he saw, and he got tw?tted.

 

Several times.

 

Understandable I suppose.