Thin and thinner

1973 Redland Park, 13 yo, lots of youth’s congregated in the day from surrounding area’s, joined up one Saturday with a large group that marched the railway track from Redland station to Stapleton road station and then onto Eastville for a game, was hooked on Rovers from that day, no other football supporters in my family at that time.

My late Father took me,Eastville, 1974,lost 1 3 to Blackpool. A 2nd tier game.

I was surprised by the colour ,the Tangerine of Blackpool,our Quarters and the field of green.Professional football had always been in black n white before,like our telly.

I had liked the great Leeds team before this game,but afterwards, slowly,Rovers wore me down and that was that.

A year or so ago I managed to buy a programme of the game.🙂

Uncle took me around 1972 - didn't have a clue what was happening, just the noise when we scored. Hooked ever since. Leeds became my second team at that time, and now all i have is this lot.

My grandad was born a goal kick from where, eight years later, Ashton Gate would rise up out of the meadowland that divided Bedminster from Ashton Vale colliery where his family had worked for generations. He was as City through and through as dad was Rovers, but they always kept it at the gentle piss take level. He would have been disgusted at the way the rivalry has been allowed to escalate to pure hatred the way it has and, having spent his 17th year treading on rotting corpses in the blood-red mud of Flanders, who could blame him. We're all of the same ilk after all, he would have said. I could have gone either way, actually, but naturally went in dad's footsteps down shabby old Stapleton Road after a 40-minute bus ride rather than 15 minutes up the Portway and an invigorating stroll through lush green Ashton Park.                  

9 years old, I suffered a temporary bout of insanity that lasted until the Club released a statement denouncing alleged domestic violence as a victimless crime.

I just used to like the smell of gas and as there was a football stadium close by it was always going to be a win win for me !

I came from a large footballing family on my mums side. My Great grandfather was one of the founders of the downs league and played for Sneyd Park as did my Grandad and his boy (my uncle). They were all city fans and one of my great great uncles played for City in the 60s. However none of them actively went to trashton that I remember, largely because my grandfather played into his late 40s and then passed away when I was just 10, about the age you start going to football matches with your family.

My mum used to go to City and Rovers matches, depending on what set of friends she was hanging out with at any particular weekend, but always preferred Rovers to City. A friendlier atmosphere at Eastville apparently and my father was never really too interested in football and whilst he always had a kickabout with me when I was growing up, never had any particular interest in any team even though he was Bristol born and bred.

I always loved football and when I started making noises about wanting to go and watch a game my mum said there was no way I was going to watch City. It was then my aunt who suggested I go with her and her then boyfriend, who happened to be Ed Ware to watch Rovers at Twerton. My dad also came along that day and we played Bury and lost 3-1. But i was captivated at that point and Rovers were my team.

I grew up watching games at Twerton but stopped going regularly when I started playing myself. I absolutely loved training and playing and managed to play to a decent standard until I goosed my knee pretty badly at Manor Farm one evening. After a knee reconstruction, 18 months out and physios telling me to stop playing I missed the buzz of saturday afternoons so went back to watching the gas again.

as the French say, there's nothing more permanent than the temporary.  The insanity will return...

The roar of the old tote end used to give me the shivers. I used to HAVE to stand with my dad, on the home side of the muller road end but, at 13, i was allowed to go onto the hallowed steps of the tote. I cannot express the feelings of joy but also feeling quite intimidated when the crowd surged but i would sing myself hoarse. 
Those we the days my friend. Seems like I’m another person who is writing of this now. NOTHNG at the club is close to how it was. I know I’m being nostalgic but it is heartbreaking for me. In those days I wouldn’t miss a single home game and started going away at 16