What things do you remember from Maine Road?

Adored Maine Road but cringed as I watched the redevelopment in the early 90's in comparison to what other clubs were doing? I found the lack of money and ambition very, very sad.

But many, many happy memories from foggy afternoons in the 1980's hanging off the fences. Buying cartons of Ribena and packets of those Fish n Chip biscuit/crisp type things from the lads that used to wheel the trollies around the side of the pitch, Wagon Wheels also.

I was also very lucky to have an access all areas during the early to mid 1990's due to family business dealings with the club and saw some interesting sites indeed.

My funniest memory though was drilling the concrete in order to fit the first tier of seating when the Kippax was rebuilt. The concrete was cheap quality and the more you drilled the moor it just crumbled? You knew it was never going to substantiate the weight needed to secure rows of seating.

Francis Lee, Colin Barlow and some other suits were standing near by one day when my completely exasperated boss threw down his drill for about the tenth time and in a fit of temper declared 'this concrete is fucking shit'

Barlow and Lee exchanged nervous glances before Franny declares the immortal line..

'Gentlemen, I think we've made a big mistake'

'Fucking dead right' came my bosses retort.

I didn't know where to look?
 
My grandad always shouted "Bradbury come on lad, I hit my fucking kid harder!" go old days! Freezing in the platt lane stand with my bovril and programme!
 
The passing of the actor who played Eddie Yeats in Coronation Street has brought back another Maine Road memory... That of my mum giving Stan Ogden a right royal bollocking outside one of the food bars in the North Stand.
The tale goes thus... Those of you who read my earlier post will know my mum, back in parts of the 1970's, was the manageress who ran all the catering on the ground. Now those of you brave enough to have bought a pie might recall you were never given the tin foil it was made in. This was nothing to do with littering, but because we returned them to the bakery for, I assume, re-use.
It transpired that Bernard Youens, the actor who played Stan, had been going around the bars asking for all the used foils for some charity thing he was involved in; the bar staff not knowing why we kept the foils gave them to him. When word got to my mum she tracked Bernard down, politely explained the situation, and asked him to cease and desist (this I didn't witness).
At the next match, despite my mum's request, he was at it again, so my mum, with a very young me in tow, went off on the warpath.
To this day, clear in my mind, I can still see 4' 11" mother reading the riot act to a very burly, but very abashed Stan Ogden (minus false mustache). He didn't do it again.
I do remember being somewhat disappointed when Bernard spoke in very refined posh tones, and not the back-street, slow Manc accent we loved him for.
Coincidentally, and nothing to do with Maine Road, until recently my dad lived next door to Jean Alexander (Hilda Ogden) in Southport. I don't think he ever gave her a bollocking though.

One other memory has occurred to me, and it's a memory that very few of you reading this will be able to share. It is that of a deserted Maine Road.
We used to get to the ground hours before game start and be there a few hours after it was over. And let me tell you, on a grey misty Saturday morning, or a pitch black post-match night, round the back of the stands with not a soul around, that old stadium was an eerie place. Well, at least it was to a young boy still a few years off from getting his first pube.
 
The atmosphere, my favourite moment at Maine Road was when Gary Neville fed the goat and I was behind the goal and shouted over to him "thanks Gaz you rag twat".
 
Queuing over night for tickets for OT.Did it 3 times not all that bad good crack with the help of the social club and a few cans .Got one of the 200 tickets when they had building work at OT.Happy days
 
I'm 23 so I am of the era that won't remember the kippax in its full glory. My first game was in 91 or 92 so was very young. I was sat on one of the railings on the kippax but I really cant remember much.

I do miss the buzz around the streets on match days. As a kid city were absolutely shit but they were still heroes to me. I miss that innocent approach to football.
 
I used to live in Withington near the Christie so me and my dad walked to the match up Yew Tree Road. The way the crowd would gradually grow the closer you got is one of my abiding memories.
 
I try not too apart from what went on the pitch Maine Road was a sh*thole and lots of rough as arseh*les pubs around it. But okay the sh*thouse door had it comical value when some poor f*cker couldn't was touching cloth had to do the sh*t of shame in front of a captive audience.
 

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