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The Official Bristol City v Wigan Athletic Match Day Thread

havanatopia

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havanatopia

havanatopia

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Good morning to one and all for the start of another new season. I have to say I awoke this morning with a broad inner smile the likes of which I cannot recall for a long time and I am, naturally, a very happy chap. Much anticipation greets us all today in what might be the largest attendance at Ashton Gate for a few years and in what is a new dawn for Bristol City Football Club. Let us all wish everyone, including us the all important fan, the very best of luck for the long and arduous season ahead. I am confident we will end up significantly higher than 18th. 

So, to the opponents. Wigan Athletic. This is entirely from memory, honest, but I seem to recall that Wigan were only the second team to be automatically promoted into the Football League. The first being Wimbledon a year earlier. I think this was around 1979. For a town made infamous by George Orwell's depressing 'The Road to Wigan Pier' the town has or rather had something to cheer about in the meteoric rise of a club through the leagues. Their recent fall being their first palpable set back but they have returned to the second tier at the first time of asking and, coincidentally, are playing the team that were also Champions of League 1 a season before.

That the team even rose into the Football League let alone the top flight is remarkable given the overwhelming depravation of a place and as written so beautifully by George Orwell.

“The train bore me away, through the monstrous scenery of slag-heaps, chimneys, piled scrap-iron, foul canals, paths of cindery mud criss-crossed by the prints of clogs. This was March, but the weather had been horribly cold and everywhere there were mounds of blackened snow. As we moved slowly through the outskirts of the town we passed row after row of little grey slum houses running at right angles to the embankment. At the back of one of the houses a young woman was kneeling on the stones, poking a stick up the leaden waste-pipe which ran from the sink inside and which I suppose was blocked. I had time to see everything about her—her sacking apron, her clumsy clogs, her arms reddened by the cold. She looked up as the train passed, and I was almost near enough to catch her eye. She had a round pale face, the usual exhausted face of the slum girl who is twenty-five and looks forty, thanks to miscarriages and drudgery; and it wore, for the second in which I saw it, the most desolate, hopeless expression I have ever-seen. It struck me then that we are mistaken when we say that ‘It isn’t the same for them as it would be for us,’ and that people bred in the slums can imagine nothing but the slums. For what I saw in her face was not the ignorant suffering of an animal. She knew well enough what was happening to her—understood as well as I did how dreadful a destiny it was to be kneeling there in the bitter cold, on the slimy stones of a slum backyard, poking a stick up a foul drain-pipe.” 

And, according to the Mirror newspaper, nearly 80 years on from Orwell's book describing the effects of the Great Depression, we find soul-destroying hardship – unemployment, hunger, hypothermia and child poverty. And that was only written last year.

There has of course been re-development down the years but not having ventured to the town myself one wonders how truly depressing the place might still be for the desperate few. Orwell, while an indisputably master story teller and writer, does tend to portray all before him with chillingly depressing prose. 

I always considered Wigan the most unlikely place for a football team; always famous for its Rugby along comes the upstart football team. How grateful can they be to Mr Dave Whelan? Perhaps 'The Freedom of Wigan' should be bestowed upon him if it hasn't already although he has received an honorary degree from the 'University' of Bolton; is Wigan so deprived they must hand over such responsibilities to a nearby town who even has a place of education?

Enjoy the match today. I surely will; attending my first since those last 5 matches of our promotion winning year. I am envisaging a magnificent season even if we should find ourselves lost in the scramble of mid table obscurity. Bristol City, 27,000, brand spanking new, the sun is shining and its a glorious day, who would have thought it. Wow. 

Edited by havanatopia
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Major Isewater

Major Isewater

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Posted
8 minutes ago, havanatopia said:

Good morning to one and all for the start of another new season. I have to say I awoke this morning with a broad inner smile the likes of which I cannot recall for a long time and I am, naturally, a very happy chap. Much anticipation greets us all today in what might be the largest attendance at Ashton Gate for a few years and in what is a new dawn for Bristol City Football Club. Let us all wish everyone, including us the all important fan, the very best of luck for the long and arduous season ahead. I am confident we will end up significantly higher than 18th. 

So, to the opponents. Wigan Athletic. This is entirely from memory, honest, but I seem to recall that Wigan were only the second team to be automatically promoted into the Football League. The first being Wimbledon a year earlier. I think this was around 1979. For a town made infamous by George Orwell's depressing 'The Road to Wigan Pier' the town has or rather had something to cheer about in the meteoric rise of a club through the leagues. Their recent fall being their first palpable set back but they have returned to the second tier at the first time of asking and, coincidentally, are playing the team that were also Champions of League 1 a season before.

That the team even rose into the Football League let alone the top flight is remarkable given the overwhelming depravation of a place and as written so beautifully by George Orwell.

“The train bore me away, through the monstrous scenery of slag-heaps, chimneys, piled scrap-iron, foul canals, paths of cindery mud criss-crossed by the prints of clogs. This was March, but the weather had been horribly cold and everywhere there were mounds of blackened snow. As we moved slowly through the outskirts of the town we passed row after row of little grey slum houses running at right angles to the embankment. At the back of one of the houses a young woman was kneeling on the stones, poking a stick up the leaden waste-pipe which ran from the sink inside and which I suppose was blocked. I had time to see everything about her—her sacking apron, her clumsy clogs, her arms reddened by the cold. She looked up as the train passed, and I was almost near enough to catch her eye. She had a round pale face, the usual exhausted face of the slum girl who is twenty-five and looks forty, thanks to miscarriages and drudgery; and it wore, for the second in which I saw it, the most desolate, hopeless expression I have ever-seen. It struck me then that we are mistaken when we say that ‘It isn’t the same for them as it would be for us,’ and that people bred in the slums can imagine nothing but the slums. For what I saw in her face was not the ignorant suffering of an animal. She knew well enough what was happening to her—understood as well as I did how dreadful a destiny it was to be kneeling there in the bitter cold, on the slimy stones of a slum backyard, poking a stick up a foul drain-pipe.” 

And, according to the Mirror newspaper, nearly 80 years on from Orwell's book describing the effects of the Great Depression, we find soul-destroying hardship – unemployment, hunger, hypothermia and child poverty. And that was only written last year.

There has of course been re-development down the years but not having ventured to the town myself one wonders how truly depressing the place might still be for the desperate few. Orwell, while an indisputably master story teller and writer, does tend to portray all before him with chillingly depressing prose. 

I always considered Wigan the most unlikely place for a football team; always famous for its Rugby along comes the upstart football team. How grateful can they be to Mr Dave Whelan? Perhaps 'The Freedom of Wigan' should be bestowed upon him if it hasn't already although he has received an honorary degree from the 'University' of Bolton; is Wigan so deprived they must hand over such responsibilities to a nearby town who even has a place of education?

Enjoy the match today. I surely will; attending my first since those last 5 matches of our promotion winning year. I am envisaging a magnificent season even if we should find ourselves lost in the scramble of mid table obscurity. Bristol City, 27,000, brand spanking new, the sun is shining and its a glorious day, who would have thought it. Wow. 

Orwell should have stuck with Keith Harris . 

What's that ? Orville ,

Ovell ...

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Ian M

Ian M

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26 minutes ago, Fordy62 said:

I've missed this so much. Pages and pages of text that can make or ruin your weekend. 

Here's to a fantastic day and let's hope the only things missing are those three little letters no one likes to see...

Am I the only sad bastard that reads the thread back when we win?

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Mike Hunt-Hertz

Mike Hunt-Hertz

Posted
Posted (edited)
50 minutes ago, havanatopia said:

Good morning to one and all for the start of another new season. I have to say I awoke this morning with a broad inner smile the likes of which I cannot recall for a long time and I am, naturally, a very happy chap. Much anticipation greets us all today in what might be the largest attendance at Ashton Gate for a few years and in what is a new dawn for Bristol City Football Club. Let us all wish everyone, including us the all important fan, the very best of luck for the long and arduous season ahead. I am confident we will end up significantly higher than 18th. 

So, to the opponents. Wigan Athletic. This is entirely from memory, honest, but I seem to recall that Wigan were only the second team to be automatically promoted into the Football League. The first being Wimbledon a year earlier. I think this was around 1979. For a town made infamous by George Orwell's depressing 'The Road to Wigan Pier' the town has or rather had something to cheer about in the meteoric rise of a club through the leagues. Their recent fall being their first palpable set back but they have returned to the second tier at the first time of asking and, coincidentally, are playing the team that were also Champions of League 1 a season before.

That the team even rose into the Football League let alone the top flight is remarkable given the overwhelming depravation of a place and as written so beautifully by George Orwell.

“The train bore me away, through the monstrous scenery of slag-heaps, chimneys, piled scrap-iron, foul canals, paths of cindery mud criss-crossed by the prints of clogs. This was March, but the weather had been horribly cold and everywhere there were mounds of blackened snow. As we moved slowly through the outskirts of the town we passed row after row of little grey slum houses running at right angles to the embankment. At the back of one of the houses a young woman was kneeling on the stones, poking a stick up the leaden waste-pipe which ran from the sink inside and which I suppose was blocked. I had time to see everything about her—her sacking apron, her clumsy clogs, her arms reddened by the cold. She looked up as the train passed, and I was almost near enough to catch her eye. She had a round pale face, the usual exhausted face of the slum girl who is twenty-five and looks forty, thanks to miscarriages and drudgery; and it wore, for the second in which I saw it, the most desolate, hopeless expression I have ever-seen. It struck me then that we are mistaken when we say that ‘It isn’t the same for them as it would be for us,’ and that people bred in the slums can imagine nothing but the slums. For what I saw in her face was not the ignorant suffering of an animal. She knew well enough what was happening to her—understood as well as I did how dreadful a destiny it was to be kneeling there in the bitter cold, on the slimy stones of a slum backyard, poking a stick up a foul drain-pipe.” 

And, according to the Mirror newspaper, nearly 80 years on from Orwell's book describing the effects of the Great Depression, we find soul-destroying hardship – unemployment, hunger, hypothermia and child poverty. And that was only written last year.

There has of course been re-development down the years but not having ventured to the town myself one wonders how truly depressing the place might still be for the desperate few. Orwell, while an indisputably master story teller and writer, does tend to portray all before him with chillingly depressing prose. 

I always considered Wigan the most unlikely place for a football team; always famous for its Rugby along comes the upstart football team. How grateful can they be to Mr Dave Whelan? Perhaps 'The Freedom of Wigan' should be bestowed upon him if it hasn't already although he has received an honorary degree from the 'University' of Bolton; is Wigan so deprived they must hand over such responsibilities to a nearby town who even has a place of education?

Enjoy the match today. I surely will; attending my first since those last 5 matches of our promotion winning year. I am envisaging a magnificent season even if we should find ourselves lost in the scramble of mid table obscurity. Bristol City, 27,000, brand spanking new, the sun is shining and its a glorious day, who would have thought it. Wow. 

Sorry "Our Man". Wigan and Wimbledon were both voted in. Auto promotion only came about in the 1980s.

Edit...sorry, beaten to it!

Edited by Mike Hunt-Hertz
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