I've mentioned this before, but when I was a little nipper I passed out in the Kippax. My Dad hoisted me up above his head and I was passed down to the front of the stand by all the other blokes in front. I ended up on one of those little fold down seats, pitch side having a cup of scalding hot Bovril. My Dad came and got me later.It's all getting a bit out of hand this stuff, isn't it? I remember a bloke being walked around the pitch on a wheeled stretcher at Wembley just after Dickov scored out cold with a drip in and 4/5 medical staff looking panicked.Nobody was really even surprised.
they do.Surely, for prem games which nearly all have crowds of 30k plus, we are not reliant on the medical staff on the bench for such emergencies. There must be systems in place where medics are available in each stand - and also defibrilators? If not - then its a disgrace
No it wouldn’t. Therefore this whole rhetoric around strategic collapses seems moot.
It‘s no different to a fan running on the pitch and evading a steward for a minute or two.
I'm not "demanding" anything. I'm on a football forum suggesting that the current situation of games being stopped because elements of the crowd are screaming at the referee is not sensible. It's a straw man for you to say "What's your solution?", as though there is no alternative, especially given the fact that we had a working solution for 150 years.Just demand it! Lol, ok.
If that happened tonight you'd have half the stand screaming blue murder at everyone around them, the cameras zooming in on the pitch elsewhere, the stewards running around like headless chickens, both bench's medical teams sprinting over, the ref not know what the hell to do and not wanting to be the one responsible for another Christian Erikson and play stopped for five minutes while both managers coach their teams and the players get their breath back. Then when you finally sipped your bovril and lost your green tinge, a huge round of applause would have broken out.I've mentioned this before, but when I was a little nipper I passed out in the Kippax. My Dad hoisted me up above his head and I was passed down to the front of the stand by all the other blokes in front. I ended up on one of those little fold down seats, pitch side having a cup of scalding hot Bovril. My Dad came and got me later.
You just be careful. I can speak to your wife you know. ;-)I don’t trust anyone who listens to women.
A workable solution, but one that may or may not be functional these days.I'm not "demanding" anything. I'm on a football forum suggesting that the current situation of games being stopped because elements of the crowd are screaming at the referee is not sensible. It's a straw man for you to say "What's your solution?", as though there is no alternative, especially given the fact that we had a working solution for 150 years.
But seeing as I sense you appear to be challenging me here is a solution bearing in mind my limited knowledge of stadium logistics: When a medical emergency occurs the nearest medics attend. If that medical emergency merits the players being removed from the field then he/she notifies the stadium head medical person via walkie talkie that the players need to be removed. That head medical person notifies the 4th official who sets off the buzzer on the referee's arm. And the players are immediately removed.
There. As I said, not beyond the wit of man, or even beyond the wit of a non expert like me. And far more sensible than everybody panicking and screaming at the players and referee because they saw the same thing happen in yesterday's TV game.
You just be careful. I can speak to your wife you know. ;-)
The only posh part I would regard as Higher Blackley! They probably called it a soft bread roll. We used to get our 'muffins' from Wards Bakers on Moston Lane, when Moston Lane had shops on both sides of the Lane from Rochdale Road to Conran Street. I shall be driving down Moston Lane and Conran Street tonight on my way to The Etihad. Takes me back to the days of proper muffins - a little dimple in the middle and a very very very slight crust, unlike the soft finger roll dough!I lived and grew up in Moston, went to Moston Lane junior school, went to "Apper'ay" baths every week, played in Broadhurst park and The Clough, cadged 1/2 empty bottle of Tizer from the returning lorry's and walked everywhere in the day ................. and never, ever, called it anything but a bloody BARM!!
Ham BARM
Bacon BARM
Sausage BARM
Cheese and Piccalilly BARM
You must be from the posh part Dave ;-)
Well, I can see yer never appreciated the dear old lady, r!I’m gran lived in Blackley on Heathbank road and I can confirm she called it a muffin.
She was wrong too.
8-)