Stainless steel

A Wednesday fan who wanted to put Sheffield rivalries aside

By MARK HUBBARD

Tribalism still defines our football experience. In a two-team city like Sheffield it matters who you support. It’s hard to explain to people outside why Wednesday and Unitedites frequently refer to one another with casual vitriol as “the Pigs”. My Owl-supporting memories were dominated by relegation, survival scraps, last-day dramatics. Bright spots like beating your near rivals 4-0 on Boxing Day 1979 became folkloric.

My dad loved football but he was also a committed Wednesdayite. Or so it seemed. Following his death in 2011 my mum asked me to sort his Owls memorabilia. What I thought would be a small box was much bigger with huge amounts to get through. For instance, after sobbing his way back down Wembley Way in 1966 following the stunning 3-2 defeat by Everton in the FA Cup after being two up, he’d kept copies of every Sunday paper report of the game.

Riffling through endless blue and white front pages of programmes, to my shock I found a copy of The Blades, the Sheffield United District Supporters Club magazine, from 1968. Peeking out was a brown envelope containing a letter addressed to my dad. It was from the then famous TV presenter Eamonn Andrews, signed in striking emerald green ink, politely turning down the opportunity to attend the “inaugural supporters’ meeting” at Bramall Lane. What? Supporters’ meeting for what? Incredibly, inside was photographic proof – my parents sitting alongside some Blade-supporting friends and family with the caption “Norfolk Park Branch – Officials enjoying a night out” with pints and smiles to prove it.

I knew my dad had played, then coached youth teams. He’d started a Norfolk Park Tenants’ Association Youth football team and even coached them to a trophy – there were grainy film images of them collecting a cup and medals at Bramall Lane.

Apart from derby games he said he’d not set foot inside the Lane, especially after United kicked out Yorkshire County Cricket Club in favour of creating a four-sided ground in the early 1970s. And yet we’d gone incognito, standing on the Shoreham Street Kop to see Fulham with Bobby Moore, Rodney Marsh and George Best. “You’ll not get the chance to see their like again,” he said, looking wistfully off towards Hillsborough. We’d also seen Pelé’s Santos play at “Thrillsborough” in 1972. Clearly, he loved the geniuses of football. But he opted out of the chance to watch River Plate play at the Lane in 1978, when future Blades midfielder Alex Sabella and a 19-year-old Diego Maradona were featured in the Sheffield Star as potential recruits for Harry Haslam’s United. So what was he doing with the heretical materials in his box of memories? I had no clue. Eventually, my mum casually dropped the explanation into conversation. “It was his idea that he could solve a big problem with his foot - ball lads. He hated all the name-calling of Wednesday and Unitedites. Made his lads’ five-a-side games too feisty. He’d no time for the rivalry. He had the lads play in orange shirts and white shorts. Then he pushed it further. He tried to set up a joint supporters’ club for Owls and Blades in the team. Show them how to be true foot - ball supporters.”

Riffling through endless blue and white programmes, to my shock I found a copy of The Blades, the Sheffield United District Supporters Club magazine, from 1968

Today, it sounds crazy but this must have been 1960s optimism. He booked a coach to take them to the derby together. Eamonn Andrews was very nearly on board. “They struggled to come up with a name, mind. Uniting the clubs. But they couldn’t be Sheffield’s United Supporters Club could they?” I cycled through composites – Wedited, Uniwed, Owlblade – but they all sounded like industrial products. The team continued, but within two years they were alternating between red and white stripes and Wednesday’s then kit of blue shirts with white sleeves – no neutral orange.

He’d failed to change a mindset. But his willingness to be hopeful, the smiling face in the social club, appearing in the enemy’s fan magazine in the hope of “solving a big problem” reflected well. Dad’s quest slid into failure, but in the attempt maybe he’d shown a different way. Mind you, I don’t think he’d have ever bought a half-and-half scarf.