Onion The Elder watched The Whites in the '40s and '50s and then, like many, finding he had other demands on his time and finances stopped attending. For the next thirty-odd years his biggest contribution to the cause was to ensure I became a White and didn't fall under the evil spell of the Red Filth as many vulnerable youngsters in our locality did.
He came out of retirement and came to Wembley to watch us get tattered by Bristol City in the Freight Rover/Autoglass/Associate Members Cup/Shield/Trophy thingy and informed me that the entire team where shit and only George Oghani had any idea. However he must have seen something he liked as he spent the next ten years or so driving round the country with me to all manner of desolate grounds watching the Wanderers slowly beggining to turn things around and climb the leagues, he was next to me on the magical F.A. Cup nights at Goodison, Anfield, Highbury, that Friday at Boothferry Park, the battling ten-man fight-back at Turf Moor as well as on many less memorable occasions.
He stopped coming due to ill health during our first premiership relegation battle and never felt up to it again but continued to take an interest and always listened on the radio (or at least when he remembered) and asking about our most recent match's whenever I went round to see him.
Dad passed away suddenly at home on Sunday morning at the age of 82 leaving all who new him with fond memories of their time spent in his company. I hope you'll all join me in raising a metaphorical glass (and maybe a real one) to an old Wanderer. Cheers
Onion The Elder watched The Whites in the '40s and '50s and then, like many, finding he had other demands on his time and finances stopped attending. For the next thirty-odd years his biggest contribution to the cause was to ensure I became a White and didn't fall under the evil spell of the Red Filth as many vulnerable youngsters in our locality did.
He came out of retirement and came to Wembley to watch us get tattered by Bristol City in the Freight Rover/Autoglass/Associate Members Cup/Shield/Trophy thingy and informed me that the entire team where shit and only George Oghani had any idea. However he must have seen something he liked as he spent the next ten years or so driving round the country with me to all manner of desolate grounds watching the Wanderers slowly beggining to turn things around and climb the leagues, he was next to me on the magical F.A. Cup nights at Goodison, Anfield, Highbury, that Friday at Boothferry Park, the battling ten-man fight-back at Turf Moor as well as on many less memorable occasions.
He stopped coming due to ill health during our first premiership relegation battle and never felt up to it again but continued to take an interest and always listened on the radio (or at least when he remembered) and asking about our most recent match's whenever I went round to see him.
Dad passed away suddenly at home on Sunday morning at the age of 82 leaving all who new him with fond memories of their time spent in his company. I hope you'll all join me in raising a metaphorical glass (and maybe a real one) to an old Wanderer. Cheers