That really pisses me off.You missed out those that leave before the half time whistle for drink and get back 5 minutes after the start of the second half.
Just as annoying as early leavers.
As somebody who now lives in Hazel Grove I agree 100%, especially as I've got numerous combinations of trains to Stockport and 192 Bus.Exactly, a fan isn't a supporter, a supporter supports the team whatever, and doesn't fuck off with 10 minutes to go because he might get home 20 minutes earlier.
I had a dad and 2 kids close to me that left on 71 minutes, then the woman that that was with them whom turned up 15 minutes late left at the end of 90 minutes
You’ll still get moaned at for not clapping players off mate ha haI watched the last penalty from the exit door, fast walked to car park and was out of Manchester in record time. 125 mile drive back and home before 1.30
And the busybodies sat near him will still think he left earlyYou’ll still get moaned at for not clapping players off mate ha ha
Perhaps he didn't know they'd scrapped the away goals rule.Old boy on our row went on 87 mins, said he was going for a piss, I thought I bet he doesn't come back................................he didn't.
No point in going to be honest, may as well have stayed at home and watched it on telly
Other week, up at 5am for work, finished at 6pm, straight to ground for match, got home at 0045 and back up for 5am. Then someone shouts, should stay and chap lads off, just never ending moaning about anything and everything lmaoAnd the busybodies sat near him will still think he left early
I didn’t get home until 3:00am! That’s because we live 3 hours away. Never left early though!Thoughts are with the usual early leavers, who couldn’t leave early last night for obvious reasons. They probably didn’t get home till 3.00 am!
Last night was a bit of an effort for a 59 year old, but I managed to see the final penalty, and still make the Manchester Piccadilly-Hazel Grove last train at 12:23
Stayed till the final whistle, just never clapped them off. Apologies ha haOther week, up at 5am for work, finished at 6pm, straight to ground for match, got home at 0045 and back up for 5am. Then someone shouts, should stay and chap lads off, just never ending moaning about anything and everything lmao
Perhaps he didn't know they'd scrapped the away goals rule.
I didn’t get home until 3:00am! That’s because we live 3 hours away. Never left early though!
Fat fingers my friend.You're kidding me? There's now a train to Hazel Grove at 12.23!!
Decades back, used to go into town to see a film with my girlfriend on a Friday or Saturday night. Weekend, you'll notice. When young people, and not so young, like to go out.
Used to drive me round the bend that either we cut the last ten minutes of the film (which I loathe doing), or we'd have to run like mad from, say, Deansgate, to catch the last train back to Hazel Grove. If I remember rightly, it was at about 10 pm. Good old British Rail.
Once, we cut it fine and the train had actually started moving. I hared up the platform and jumped on it, but my poor girlfriend was not quite as good a sprinter as me. I saw that she was going to be left high and dry (briefly thought, “Well, how serious is it between us anyway?”) and jumped off it again. Of course, the train's momentum sent me bowling over on the platform. Ripped my trouser leg and grazed my knee. But they actually stopped the whole train for us! I was a bit chuffed, honestly. Well worth it.
If you stop posting on the match day thread before the end of the game, are you an early leaver? Are you a fan or a supporter? So confusing…
You're kidding me? There's now a train to Hazel Grove at 12.23!!
Decades back, used to go into town to see a film with my girlfriend on a Friday or Saturday night. Weekend, you'll notice. When young people, and not so young, like to go out.
Used to drive me round the bend that either we cut the last ten minutes of the film (which I loathe doing), or we'd have to run like mad from, say, Deansgate, to catch the last train back to Hazel Grove. If I remember rightly, it was at about 10 pm. Good old British Rail.
Once, we cut it fine and the train had actually started moving. I hared up the platform and jumped on it, but my poor girlfriend was not quite as good a sprinter as me. I saw that she was going to be left high and dry (briefly thought, “Well, how serious is it between us anyway?”) and jumped off it again. Of course, the train's momentum sent me bowling over on the platform. Ripped my trouser leg and grazed my knee. But they actually stopped the whole train for us! I was a bit chuffed, honestly. Well worth it.
Incidentally, am I imagining this? Didn't the 192 used to be simply the 92? Brilliant banner by the 1894 group, by the way. Sooo City. Locals as opposed to tourists (i.e. over in Trafford…)