24th March 2015: the old lady is preparing her vocal chords

The title isn’t the immediate call to arms, so grab those reins and pull back tightly, not too tightly mind you and that includes you Scouse Steve, I know your predilections, the Mr Grey amongst us but we have but two weeks remaining in the old stadium. By now you will know me well enough to know of my love for all things ancient and having passed, the wondrous and the beautiful, the creative and flamboyant: so right now, this passing between stadia, this change in our very environment, in the smells and sights, the senses we will experience, this is history my friends, history we will live through, history we now make. It is our burial of our own King Richard. Yes I am that annoying historian regaling you of the significance of this moment. The moment when we are both sad and excited. You can ignore the magnitude of it right here in the present but soon you will look back and regret not being there when that bugle called, when the flag was draped, when the last ball was kicked. Who will score that last Hillsborough goal I wonder? If I was a chef I’d be more Ainsley than that Worrall Thompson fella, if I was an artist I would be more Picasso than Van Gogh, but if I was a time in history I would be the Romans more than the industrial revolution, if I was a comic I would be Roy Of The Rovers instead of Marvel, if I was a car I would choose a Datsun 120 Y coupe more than anything else and if I was choosing a football kit for Sheffield United I would choose one with proper stripes and not one that looked like it was a knock-off from the left overs from that fiasco at West Brom: United play in red and white stripes, that new kit upsets me, and I support Wednesday, it took the shine off beating Rotherham: get it sorted, but that’s not the call to arms either. It was a win to the Whites last week by the way, 4-2 in games now, although I’m duty bound to point out that it was a full Whites and a makeshift Darks but we gave them a run for their money, Geordie got a little angry too…I feel like I’m writing this in a big old leather chair, with a brandy, looking out over fields by a roaring fire…who lit the fire in the field was very irresponsible…and why did you put my chair next to it, I blame Paddy personally, always thought he had the look of arsonist…if I was a criminal I would be more of a prison inmate than anything else I think, never been any good at crime. I’m in a reminiscing mood and this is my point, I do have one, I’m getting there, here it comes, there’s two weeks left at Hillsborough, before we move to…Hillsborough…that’s bloody confusing…don’t worry, Jono, dependable, always dependable, he’s like bear grills (that was deliberate and not at all dyslexic…Ok it was dyslecix) anyway he will send out maps and instructions and homing devices and pigeons and promises to stand on the street in a high viz outfit made of fish and direct us to the new Hillsborough come the day when we move, which is after Easter, which means we have 2 weeks, if my maths is correct. It might not be, which is why I won’t be wearing the outfit made of fish, because I’ll just look silly. But if we have 2 weeks left, just 2 weeks of the old Hillsborough then these are your last chances to say goodbye to the old hall and that’s my point, forget your injuries and your excuses, come on 2 weeks, let’s get the good numbers up, and by good numbers I mean even numbers, high numbers, like 8 and 10 or even 12 ooooooh and go out with a bang. The countdown has begun….the Whites will want to end the old Hillsborough days on an even 4-4, yes they can do it, the Darks will want to end the old Hillsborough with a solid 6-1 lead, think on it…everything is possible. Including Big John turning up to play the last game in old Hillsborough dressed as Dolly Parton…he has promised.

So who is playing this week?

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