This whole story first came about in the week preceding the then Bobby Robson's (no Sir) first Tyne-Wear derby at SJP. Various financial constraints meant that this season I had to sell my season ticket to the bloke down the road and could only afford the odd game. The uncertainty and rarity of my 'Woodgate' style appearance at SJP was not at all to my liking and I hatched various schemes to make some much needed ticket money. At the time I really did believe that Bassedas and Cordone would come good! Looking back I may not have tried so hard!
Around this time the film ‘Purely Belter' was on at the pictures starring Aufwiedersehen Pet stars Tim Healy and Kevin Wheatley - the latest in a line of low budget, yet extremely entertaining northern based films. The story revolved around two lads desperate to save up for a season ticket and like myself would try anything to see the 'Match'.
If I couldn't afford to see the game then how I could I see the match, live, for nowt? (The flat at the end of ‘Purely Belter’ with the director’s box like view of the pitch sadly does not exist!)
At the time I had a mate who was working in the Bambrugh suite at SJP on a match day.
I set about quizzing my contact upon the format, layout and security procedures in place at the suite and what, if any, were the weaknesses I could exploit. I knew the ins and outs of the corporate area specifics to Jason Bourne like extremes. Nowadays for obtaining this kind of information I would be arrested on terror charges accused of hatching a plot to blow up SJP. (For those of you out there wanting to ask the question, no, I don't have any similar details for the Stadium of Light!)
So, I set about plotting a plan to infiltrate SJP and see the
were labeling a 'hair brain scheme'. I promised him that his faith would be rewarded (and that my Dad would sort out any ‘bail’ money!). We were to meet at
So it was, kitted out in our best 'whistle' I briefed my partner in crime in 'Luckies' of all places.
A long, brave, yet nervous walk to SJP followed. Upon reaching the new, recently developed Milburn entrance all of my 'fool proof' plans suddenly seemed in doubt. Was it too late to turn back? Surely the 'Adelphi' would be showing it? It's better on radio anyway! Would I get a life ban? Too many questions and too little time to think about the answers.
We were now on the escalators ascending towards level 4 having negotiated security on the main door and reception with ease. It appeared that Diego Gavilan and family were experiencing more problems than we were! We were both only 18 at the time but being tall lads looked a lot older. Although the plan was carefully hatched there was one law that came above any other - if we look smart, confident and act as if we’re meant to be there then people will be reluctant to ask questions – make it look as if your going to ask questions of them. We were both smart lads - we had to use this to our utmost advantage - golden rule number one in the audacious rule book!
I decided upon using the escalator as my research had revealed that the lift landed you right outside the Bambrugh suite entrance in front of the security. I had visions of getting the knock back that quickly that I would be thrown back into the same lift before the doors had closed and lumped out onto
My original plan if asked for a ticket was to say that we had arrived late and that the guy we were meeting with our tickets was already inside - I'd even researched the names of companies that used the suite. I was then to say that I'd just pop in and get the ticket and return - if this had of happened the plan was to disappear into SJP and find a seat from there. This was it - the moment of truth! As I approached the main door the burly, dog toothed clad security bloke reached out and put his arm across me - fuck!
I don't remember much of the next ten seconds. There we were inside the Bambrugh suite. Apparently the guy with the dog tooth jacket and walkie talkie had merely opened the door for me - thanks mate!
It was now
But now,
Back to the official plan - mill about in the toilets till about
The game had just kicked off and to our surprise there were about five or six spare seats all in a row. I could even have brought the family! It was at this point it actually began to sink in. We were sat, padded seats and all, watching the Tyne-Wear derby - for nowt! I'll never forget that feeling - so much so I remember very little of Speed's goal, I was just that excited to have made it!
Shortly after settling in to 'our' seats I felt a hand on my shoulder - this was the second 'oh, fuck!' moment of the afternoon. At least I'd made it in and seen some of the match I thought. I had half a story to tell even if I was now being thrown out after only 15 minutes.
However there was no need to panic, 'There's nobody sitting here son?' It was only bloody Bobby Moncur! Fairs Cup legend! By now my body was shaking. 'Alright Bobby, yeah no problem'. We found out later we were sat in the Century radio seats.
At about
'Offside ref' I screamed, 'Yards on son' Bobby replied. I disagreed. Footballing great or not, the game is a matter of opinions and I’d paid good money to voi….. (maybe Bobby was right). For the remainder of the first half I chatted with my new mate Bobby about the match. It was great!
Half time came and so did a pint of lager and some complimentary profiteroles. During half time I spent most of my time on the phone trying to act cool and give nothing away whilst explaining to many friends that we actually were there. At the time I'd just started going out with a girl - I’m sure that my infiltration went a long way to securing a long term deal - she was mightily impressed - thought I was some sort of modern day Frank Abagnale Jr I think!
Back to the match. The second half is, as they say, history. Moncur never returned but we did notice that Supermac was sat a few rows behind in a private box. On the game itself I seem to remember Bassedas having a decent game, Don Hutchison really pissing me off and the despair of Big Al’s penalty.
After the match the plan was to bugger off as quickly as we'd snaked up the escalators and through the main doors before the game. However, we had another pint and noticed a bloke we knew heading a table. We sat with him and his party of Toon and Mackem supporters and talked all things football. I also seem to remember Steve Caldwell being presented with the man of the match award. We were in fact some of the last punters to leave, thanking security guards and bar staff for their hospitality. A night on the town ensued - getting pissed on two fronts; a celebration of our exploits and a commiseration regarding the result.
This was the first time I managed to sneak into SJP but it certainly wasn't the last. I made quite a habit of it. More stories of brushes with ex Toon stars and security guards to follow!
p.s. The official attendance for that day was 52,030. The next day I made a point of changing that in the Sunday papers to 52,032. That meant, if figures are to be believed that we managed to find 2 of only 117 seats that were free out of 52,147. Less than 0.25% of seats were there for the taking and we had two of them - lucky bastards!