Who remembers that trip to Bramall Lane in September 2017?
You don’t? Seriously?
Well, it was the one when we went there, in the opening few months of the Daniel Farke era, and sh*thoused our way to a 1-0 win. It was a weird old day.
Yanick Wildschut scored for god’s sake. That’s how weird it was.
But it didn’t begin or end there.
We’d somehow managed to get under the skin of Chris Wilder – he of the crimson complexion – before a ball had even been kicked.
Our crime, which has been very well documented over the years, was to arrive at the ground late due to there being heavy traffic in the centre of Sheffield.
“Lack of respect” … apparently
According to Wilder, who took extreme umbrage at our tardiness, and whose face, by 3pm, was an extreme shade of puce, deemed it a lack of respect to him, his team, the officials, the crowd, the Football League, the good people of Yorkshire, England, Europe, and the Universe.
City’s coach driver took the brunt of it. “Do your research”, was the Wilder stance.
By the end of the game, his face was an angry shade of oxblood. He was in the stands after being sent there by referee Scott Duncan for kicking over some water bottles.
Accidental apparently. Yeah, of course it was, Chris.
I wasn’t there that day, but instead listened to Chris Goreham’s excellent BBC Radio Norfolk commentary, and could sense (and hear) the Bramall Lane crowd, in sympathy with their spiritual leader, getting angrier and angrier and angrier.
When you lose your rag in front of 28,000, and start kicking things around, it tends to rub off on those who wrongly believe you to be the bee’s knees.
City’s biggest crime was, it seemed, being 1-0 up and not having the temerity to allow United to equalise.
When Angus Gunn and co did the professional thing, and wasted as much time as they could – just as the Blades would obviously have done in the same circumstances – the puce one went apoplectic-er with rage.
The whole of Bramall Lane joined him.
And as if it couldn’t get worse for old crimson face, City held on. Then all hell broke loose.
The mother of all blubs
So incendiary was the scene set by Wilder, some of the locals decided to ‘greet’ the Y’Army as they departed the away end and throw a few punches.
You know the stuff … just your everyday casual football violence, where innocents get battered for no obvious reason other than wearing a different colour shirt.
Anyway, rather than going into any further detail on his most extraordinary post-match blub, take a look for yourself and marvel at that dry mouth, the banging of the desk, and the primary school playground demeanour.
It was the day Wilder knocked Kevin Keegan’s “And I would love it…” diatribe off the number one spot.
Obviously, it still grates, and, obviously, none of us has ever forgotten how ungracious and bitter Wilder was that day, but, unfortunately, he’s still laughing at us.
He knows we’ve not forgotten, which is why he always strides across the Carrow Road pitch with such purpose after they’ve either beaten us or taken two points from us.
The prowler…
To him, every Sheffield United point against Norwich is one in the eye for that “unprofessional” bus driver, who probably didn’t/doesn’t even support City.
And no doubt he’ll be at it again tonight. Prowling the edge of the technical area like Roy Keane on steroids, awaiting the next Norwich City infringement, which he’ll go ‘tell’ on us to the fourth official until he/she is completely tired of living.
But wouldn’t it, for once, just for once, be wonderful if he didn’t have reason to stride so purposefully toward his fellow Blades and then give it large in such an overt ‘f**k you, Norwich’ way.
If you’re listing Philippe, Vlad, Kellen, Ruairi, Jose, Ben, Kenny, Sam, Paris, Anis, Ali, Mathias, et al, please please do us all a huge favour …….. and win.
PLEASE.
We’ll not forget it.
OTBC.
