Words for Shred

Scunthorpe United 1 v Sheffield United 1

Saturday 14 March 2015

Twitter @ball_sup

I'd like to think I'd do anything for anybody. Sympathetic. But, I definitely have no-to-low sentiment. Memorials, shrines, tributes, visible outward shows of grief. Not for me. Don't get me wrong. I won't criticise people who go in for all that. It is VERY important to my sympathetic view that people do what they want. Particularly at times of loss or grief. But, I haven't got it in me.

I'm a proud atheist. Religious mumbo jumbo just created to keep people in their place - in life & in death. God Bless You. But, if that's good for others - fine. Me, I have a more fatalistic view. Summoning up all the sentiment I've got, here goes.

For years & years I went on Shred's bus. I have family in London. I would often stay with them for London/South East games. For most other away games I was on with Shred. Let's have it right. In recent years the bus had gone to cock. An inert confusion of indecision. Bus or minibus? Nine or half past? Where are we stopping? Back on at two or quarter past? Once Goodison could no longer rule the roost from the front, it never recovered.

At the end of every season, we'd have the Retirement Fandango. Shred would earnestly declare he'd run his last bus. Someone else would have to take over. We'd all cheer & chant Spencer Out. We'd be high fiveing & hugging each other. At last, we'd be released. All in the knowledge we'd be phoning him up in early August. "What time for Port Vale?".

In the last couple of years, we moved into Shred's Shredless Bus phase. You'd phone him, get all the (I'll laughingly call them) details from him. But, when you turned up at the Penny Black, he wouldn't actually be on the bus. He'd be on the Mobile directing operations from The Sportsman bus.

To him, Blades going to the game, cheering the team was the be all end all. He couldn't really grasp that people like me didn't want to go to the match. I wanted to go to the match WITH HIM. I'm assertive. I dug my heels in. I demanded to be removed from the Shred's Shredless Bus list & be put on The Sportsman with him. And that's what happened.

Naturally, I recognise much of what others have said about him. His willingness to help any Blade. But, that's not what I'll primarily remember. We had our cross words. Usually around some mental, last minute indecision, which was stitching us all up. What I basically recall is that 99% of the time together we both had beaming smiles across our fizzoggs.

We had Chesterfield away in a Police inspired lunch time kick off. He'd sorted the pub in Dronfield. Early start. I bumped into him in Pond Street. Just me & him.

"Come here Shred. I've got to shake your hand. It's Chesterfield away. On a Saturday. And we're setting off in the dark"

Beam Beam

Shred was a Trade Unionist & a Socialist. And he had many interests outside football. He loved the Theatre. The last time I was with him (Rochdale away), we talked about The Absence Of War production at The Crucible & Blasted (from the Sarah Kane season). He had a lovely, almost childlike view of theatre. He was constantly amazed how writers and actors could change the emotion and set your mind running with just a line or a look.

He tipped me off about when he was going to the remaining Sarah Kane season. I pushed him at the Sheffield International Documentary Festival & promised to give him more details at the next match. And that was it.

I'll be selfish. I'll miss Shred. But, I'll miss (ie see less of) many still alive mates as well. Spencer was the glue that held us together. Sentiment wise, that's all I've got.

Sam Smiths Extra Stout on keg (maybe even Nitro Keg) at 4.5%.

Not much going on on the pitch to report.

101/235