Tag Archives: Supporting

Back to Wembley: Play off final song three: Bradford Calling

17 May

By Jason McKeown

West Yorkshire covers band have got in on the Bradford City play off act, with a superb re-working of The Clash’s London Calling – Bradford Calling.

Drummer Tino Palmer told Width of a Post the story behind the song.

“The idea for the song first came about for the League Cup final, but there were so many other songs about I thought it would get lost in the crowd…plus I’d just bought a cafe in Ossett and was a bit snowed under (pardon the pun). So when, on that strange Sunday I stood in The Northern with Lloyd and the other fans watching that great win against Burton – with their “road to Wembley” scarves – I thought perhaps I should finish it off.

“So home I went, messed around with the words a bit more then sent them off to the band’s singer Mik Raven. He came back with some changes – belters, I have to say – and on Monday, we agreed to get sorted with it. Two days later, a quick rehearsal, then on Thursday May 10 we trudged into Voltage Studios on Manchester Road and Tim Walker helped us to record and finish it within three hours. This is punk rock, baby, we don’t mess about!

“Jamie Fletcher from SMF Print was on backing, and he said we needed a video to back it up, so he contacted Fruition Media, who do a lot of work with/for the club, and he agreed to a quick video shoot on Monday 13th. Also in the studio the previous Thursday was Chris Cooper, ex Pulse sports commentator, now at Sky, and he put Sky in touch with me, arranging for their presenter Richard Graves to come and talk to us at the shoot.

“A full crew turned up, interviewing us and even taking part in the video…24 hours later, it was uploaded to YouTube as I sat in BCB’s studio waiting to tell them about it all and play the song. Then by Thursday it had over 4,000 views and was being universally well received, much to our satisfaction…and relief!!

“Plans are afoot for more City-based recording; I’m making a sort of career of it. After my first exploits with my old band The Negatives did “we are City” back in 2001…who knows what’s next?

“Watch this space…”

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Back to Wembley: A night at the movies with a Bradford Blockbuster

16 May
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Photo courtesy of Wendy Michallat

By Katie Whyatt

The 2012/13 season has brought us more thrills, spills and twists than anything that has been churned out of Tinseltown recently – and there’s still another chapter left to go.

The Bantams’ incredible year would form an ideal script for Hollywood executives to sink their teeth into, especially if the journey ends with victory in the play off final.

Bradford City sailed the crest of the League Cup wave, knocking out Wigan, Arsenal and Aston Villa en route to football’s home. Couple sheer determination, a pinch of Lady Luck and an underdog status with high-octane defensive battles and nail-biting penalty shootouts, and the club rapidly became the centre of attention, causing ripples in countries as far-flung as Japan and America.

However, City crashed on the big stage as they were torn apart at the hands of the merciless Swansea City. It was the first time in the competition that Bradford had looked like a League Two side, and, gosh, it was crushing. It wasn’t how the narrative was supposed to end. It was anything but the perfect finish to the otherwise textbook fairytale.

After finding a bit of form in the League, City’s promotion chase was back on track, helped by a bit of good fortune with regards to Exeter and Fleetwood’s results.

It wasn’t exactly a coast to the capital, though. There were the horrendous officiating mishaps as Rotherham rocked up at Valley Parade, and, after the lacklustre first-half performance in the Burton home leg, there was a fear that Bradford had blown their chances of a League One place. But the team struck back in clinical fashion, roared on by an army of 1,500 travelling fans, to book a return trip to the place that is rapidly becoming a second home for City.

If Parkinson’s men win the play off final and snatch the promotion that has so far eluded them during the League Two stint… what a perfect end to the story that would be.

You can picture the movie’s tagline now: Bradford City’s story, a pulsating tale of grit and determination. Shatter the odds. Surprise a nation. Valiantly clamber to your feet after upset on one of the world’s biggest stages, and go on to achieve what you’ve spent years striving for.

All of that, against the backdrop of ten tempestuous years of constant decline and several successive relegation battles, and Hollywood bosses will be thinking that all of their Christmases have come at once.

Characterisation isn’t too difficult, either. City’s team is brimming with down-to-earth and gutsy heroes who will be the perfect protagonists for this exciting adventure: James Hanson, the former supermarket shelf-stacker whose blistering header stunned Aston Villa; Gary Jones, the midfield engine; Carl McHugh, the Donegal teenager; Matt Duke, Phil Parkinson, Rory McArdle. Include every single one of the Bradford City players, because they are all our heroes.

The squad is a motley composition of champions: our champions. Parkinson’s diverse mix of men, who have inspired an entire nation with their giant-killing odyssey. Even the Harry Potter series would struggle to provide you with more endearing stars.

Villains come in the form of the cynics, the Premier League big boys and the referees. And – shudder – Steve Evans.

Parkinson would be played by Hugh Grant, and Timothy Spall would star as Mark Lawn. Garry Thompson’s on-screen counterpart just about goes without saying (It’s Daniel Craig, by the way.), and Bantams Banter could make a cameo appearance. I could go on.

Whether any of these are actually apt choices remains to be seen, but it’s certainly a start.

If The Damned United can be turned into a book and a film, why not City’s story? It’s certainly just as enthralling a tale as that of Brian Clough’s ill-fated tenure at Leeds United.

Intertwine the main story – of City’s compelling exploits this year – with the players’ lives and the fans’ views, and boom: you’ve got compulsive viewing.

I’ll take my Oscar now, I think.

Who knows? If City win on Saturday, the idea of a movie won’t seem so far fetched at all.

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Back to Wembley: We never do it the easy way, do we?

16 May

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By Will Rook

A Bradford City fan walks into a pub in Wembley, and the barman says, ‘The usual then mate?’

We’ve all heard the joke and many variations, but let’s not kid ourselves, it never grows tiresome.

To be a fan of Bradford City, one must be made of stern stuff and you’ve got to allow yourself to enjoy moments like these when they happen, and all the joviality which goes with it. Because they don’t come around often for anyone, let alone us.

It’s fair to say over the past 12 years we haven’t really had it our own way; after a slide from the Premiership to the wrong end of the Football League and being faced with such crippling financial woe, nearly ceasing to exist on two separate occasions.

As a collective we seem to stand by the motto of, ‘We always make it difficult for ourselves’ and this has rung true for the majority of the new millennium.

Relegation to League Two was the rotten cherry which topped the cake of anguish and pain for City. And even though it was expected it never really got any better after that, until now.

Last season, in my opinion, was a turning point. Peter Jackson started the season in charge and expectations had been lowered considerably from their normal ‘play off minimum’ standard after finishing 18th the previous season, briefly flirting with relegation from the Football League. Jackson had built a squad, with the help of Archie Christie, which he believed would be competitive. Although after a poor start and only one point to show from the first four league games Jackson and the club parted ways.

Enter stage, Phil Parkinson. A young, ambitious manager with experience higher up the pyramid, just what was needed to get a squad which according to Julian Rhodes “patently wasn’t good enough” firing. Parkinson was given a target of survival for the season which, despite some poor displays and grumbles from the fans, was achieved with games to spare leaving Bradford City in another 18th placed finish. Not quite hitting the dizzy heights of the top half, but the target set out from the board at the start of his tenure had been met, an important milestone in gaining trust.

A busy summer was ahead, and Parkinson was duly backed heavily by the club’s co-Chairmen in the transfer market, taking a £600k hit on the budget. Players like Gary Jones, Garry Thompson and Rory McArdle were brought in to replace deadwood from one of the biggest squads in the league.

The quality of football was incomparable, although the huge dent in finances to get this far once again highlights how nothing for us can ever be done the ‘easy’ way.

Even in our League Cup run, when the opportunity of a ‘glamour tie’ was there, we had to get past Burton Albion and Wigan before our plum draw at home to Arsenal.

In my opinion, the Arsenal game was when the majority really started believing that we had a special crop here at Valley Parade. We’d never in our wildest dreams thought we could beat Wigan, let alone a team of Arsenal’s prestige and quality. When Thomas Vermaelen missed his penalty to spark wild celebrations, people started to realise our fortunes may have finally turned.

This was confirmed after that glorious night at Villa Park which will live long in the club’s history and I doubt any fan who was there or watched on television will forget for as long as they live, it really was an ‘I was there moment’ and promotion or no promotion even the most ardent sceptics had to admit Bradford City’s stock was on the rise once again.

The run to the final of the League Cup had sparked optimism and belief throughout, not just the football club but the entire city of Bradford, but unfortunately with this distraction came a dip in the club’s league form which had been impressive up until then. The run of results in between the Arsenal victory and the cup final looked to have put the nails in the coffin for a promotion charge which had looked more than possible at the start of the season. Once again, ‘never do things the easy way’.

The crushing defeat in the cup final had people once again questioning Parkinson and some performances left a lot to be desired, notably the 4-1 defeat away at Exeter and the first half showing at home to Southend. Fans started to give up hope once again, as they had so often been used to doing towards the end of the season.

Somewhat aided by a complete capitulation from Exeter City and amazing form, the team managed to pull themselves back into the play off race, pulling back an eight-point deficit within a week and going on to secure the last spot in the promotion lottery with a game to spare. While it was wrapped up before the end of the season, it could hardly be described as easy having to make up so many points in so little time.

Finally, our play off semi-final against Burton. Such was the sense of optimism around Valley Parade for the first leg, no-one could quite have foreseen the display we were in the first half with Parkinson admitting it was probably as poorly as we’ve defended all season. Somehow though, owing to a Garry Thompson wonder strike, we were still in the tie at 2-3 going to the Pirelli Stadium.

The mood in the air was a little less of confidence and more nervousness for the second leg, with a goal deficit to overturn away at the team with the best home record in the division. Once again though, against all adversity, this team who simply refuse to lie down came out to win 3-1 and 5-4 on aggregate setting up a Wembley play off final with Northampton Town.

Now with the final so close and the game poised tightly, fans are once again getting excited. I’d say though, whatever happens come 3.30pm on Saturday afternoon, take a look where we’ve come from, not only in the past 12 years, but more recently. For our side to have such a turnaround in fortunes in such a quick amount of time is nothing short of incredible.

Also remember this: before this season we hadn’t been to Wembley to see our team 17 years, and now we’re going twice in one magical campaign. Sure, we’ve had to put up with a lot, but at the moment we’re pretty lucky really, aren’t we?

Come on City.

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Back to Wembley: Divided family loyalties

14 May

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By Jeremy Casey

Northampton Town versus Bradford City isn’t normally the kind of fixture you would associate with creating a bit of a family split.

Everton versus Liverpool, yes.

Manchester United versus Manchester City, possibly.

Sheffield United versus Sheffield Wednesday, probably.

Celtic versus Rangers, less likely.

But Northampton v Bradford? The Cobblers v The Bantams?

Surely that won’t be the subject of inter-family rivalry and banter?

Well, however unlikely it may seem, it is a reality.

I am a Northampton Town fan.

I was born in Northampton, and have been watching the team since my dad Jerry took me to the ramshackle (but sorely missed) old County Ground for the first time in the mid-1970s.

At that time, and for many years later, Bradford City weren’t a club on my radar, and indeed, on any member of my family’s radar.

But that was soon to change, when my uncle Ken Wilson and Auntie Joan moved to West Yorkshire, settling in Cullingworth, where they raised my three cousins Greg, Graeme and Iain.

Now, there was a Yorkshire connection, a Yorkshire branch to the family clan – and they all ended up supporting Bradford City.

I even went to watch games when I was staying with the Wilsons.

I was lucky enough to witness an epic FA Cup win at Preston North End, and also a 2-1 league win at Huddersfield Town.

Bradford had become a bit of a second team for me.

And the ties didn’t stop there.

My sister Catherine, a fellow child of Northamptonshire (although she was born in Corby) and Cobblers fan, went to university in Leeds in her teens.

Following graduation, she ended up working for my uncle’s company in Keighley, and also settling in Yorkshire in the village of Addingham.

Now, as a football fan, Catherine also decided to go and watch Bradford with the Wilsons, all at the time when it was really exciting to be a Bantams fan.

The club was a progressive one and was on the up, and was promoted to the Premier League under the management of Paul Jewell.

The Bradford bug had well and truly bitten my auntie, uncle and cousins, as well as my sister.

They became season-ticket holders, and it was all about City for the Wilsons, while what could really go wrong for my sister?

She was and always will always be a Cobblers fan, but where was the harm in watching and following Bradford?

How could there ever be a clash?

At the time, Bradford and the Cobblers were poles apart.

City were hosting Manchester United and Liverpool (I twice saw Bradford take on the Reds, including that famous last-day triumph), while the Cobblers were battling away, as they have done for most of their existence, in the lower divisions.

Nobody could have predicted Bradford’s slide down the divisions following their relegation from the top flight, and in recent years, the Cobblers against the Bantams has become a regular fixture.

My annual visit to Valley Parade – where I have now made friends – now sees me watch Bradford take on Northampton, with the home side, annoyingly, having the upper hand in the past few years.

It’s a reverse story at Sixfields, where the Cobblers have claimed a couple of wins and rarely lost to Bradford in recent times.

But this season has seen the teams meet on four occasions, and the Cobblers have yet to win one!

Both league games were lost 1-0, while two FA Cup ties ended in draws, with Bradford progressing after winning a penalty shoot-out.

I am obviously hoping it will be fifth time lucky for the Cobblers at Wembley next weekend!

And that brings us on to the national stadium, and next week’s play off final.

I am really looking forward to it, but it is also going to be an emotional day for me, and my family.

I had always said I wouldn’t go to the new Wembley Stadium until the Cobblers played there.

But then fate played a hand.

My uncle Ken sadly and suddenly passed away in January of this year.

When Bradford reached the final of the Capital One Cup in February, I was asked by my sister and auntie Joan if I would go to the game.

It was the sort of occasion Ken would have revelled in, and it was an honour to be asked to be part of the day.

Now I am heading to Wembley again, and this time to watch my beloved Cobblers.

But again, fate has played its part, with Bradford City the opposition.

I’ll be backing the claret and whites, as will my sister – surely the only Bradford City season ticket holder to be sitting in the Cobblers section! – while my auntie and cousins will all once again be among the travelling army from Bradford.

So it is going to be a strange day for me in some ways.

I would never say my loyalties are split, because they aren’t.

I am a Cobblers man, and I want the Cobblers to win.

No question.

But if they don’t, and it’s Bradford who triumph, I will at least be happy for my cousins, and I’ll be happy for my auntie Joan.

And win or lose, I will definitely be raising a glass in memory of my uncle Ken, who I know will be looking down from above, and dishing out stick to the Cobblers players, as he always did when I went to Valley Parade!

I just wish he was still here to enjoy the day with the rest of us.

Anyway, with both clubs set to take plenty of supporters, it is going to be a fantastic occasion, and may the best team win.

As long as it’s the Cobblers!

Jeremy Casey is the sports editor of the Northampton Chronicle & Echo

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Back to Wembley: Since our last visit…

13 May
Photo courtesy of Wendy Michallat

Photo courtesy of Wendy Michallat

By Mahesh Johal

Walking down Wembley Way after the League Cup Final was one of my proudest moments as a Bradford City fan. In the dark London sky, the Wembley arch stood bright. Looking at this monument to football, I took a moment to reflect on the club’s achievement. I never in my lifetime thought I would see City at the famous ground, so to be going there again only three months later is an amazing feeling.

Whilst our cup exploits will be remembered by the common football fan, the journey back to the national stadium has been equally exciting and traumatic.

“If, at the end of those 15 games, we haven’t got where we want to be, we’ll hold out hands up.” Phil Parkinson, February 2013

Much was said by Phil Parkinson regarding the way City would attack the 15 league games remaining after the Cup Final. Incredibly, the players have been able to overhaul a 10-point deficit and we are now preparing for another Wembley trip. However, I was initially left frustrated and unsure if we could achieve our goal.

I looked specifically at the games against Aldershot and Plymouth as a case of argument. Against two teams fighting for league survival, City were unable to break down their opposition. In no way was I angry towards the players or manager, but instead irritated that things weren’t clicking. The team tried valiantly, but I was unsure why we weren’t converting these draws into wins.

I kept thinking that on another day we would have beat Aldershot convincingly. But it’s this point that sums up City’s six-season tenure in League Two. Next season is always ‘our season’. In all honesty, I was frustrated that we were seemingly not going to seize our best opportunity in years to get promoted.

These draws felt more like defeats. I remember struggling to celebrate in the manner which one should after Alan Connell’s 98th minute penalty equaliser against the Shots. By the time we had lost to Exeter in March, a 10-point gap had been opened between us and the 7th place. It seemed too big. Questions were raised of whether the cup run had taken too much out of the players. Others pointed to Parkinson’s squad rotation.

With the squad’s talent, there was no doubt that performances would pick up. Our only problem was the lack of games left. Quite frankly I felt we had missed the play off boat.

“We’ve got a squad capable going on a good run” Parkinson, February 2013

One aspect of these 15 games that I undervalued was the worth of a draw. I felt that we had wasted the games in hand because of our inability to kill teams off. But with every point gained, and game unbeaten, the team slowly started to pick up the momentum needed to make a move up the table.

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The gritty draw against Southend started a run of three consecutive wins, but it was the victory over Northampton that made me really stand up and take notice. Without resorting to clichés, there was something in the air that day. It was a tense affair against a physical and well drilled side.

In previous years I am convinced we would have succumbed to the pressure, but this just felt different. The crescendo of ‘Midland Road’ coincided with the belief that the play offs were back on. The louder the chant, the more we seemed to believe that the top seven could be achieved. Luck may have something to do with it, and the results of our rivals that day added to this air of optimism.

This buoyancy was at a fever pitch at Chesterfield and there was a genuine sense that victory in Derbyshire could propel us into an automatic promotion battle. I remember travelling to the game amazed that we had been able to pull ourselves into this position. Even more so, we were justified in the belief for automatic promotion. The team were now playing with confidence and, all of a sudden, we had ‘clicked’. Maybe it was the rediscovery of Nahki Wells’ form or Ricky Ravehill’s doggedness in midfield, but something happened and it got the Bantams playing.

Most importantly (to me) was the fact that City were playing for something in April. We haven’t had this buzz in years. I am always nervous watching City, but this was a nervous energy and anticipation that I kind of liked the feel of. The fact that every game was so important gave games an electricity that has rarely been felt at Valley Parade in recent years. Even when results like Rotherham did not go our way, there was still a yearning to come to the ground and support the team to victory in the next game.

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Beating Burton to seal the last play off spot was a special moment for all connected to the club. It made the six years of suffering in League Two seem worth it. There was a euphoria knowing we were two games away from Wembley. These emotions went into overdrive after beating Albion over two legs the play offs. If anything, the way the semis unfolded were similar to these 15 games. We did not start off great, but somehow were able to do enough to be in with a shout.

When it mattered the most, we turned it on and achieved our goal. Last Sunday, the goal was to get to Wembley. This Saturday, the goal will be to win at Wembley.

I will again look at the arch after the game on Saturday, hopefully as the supporter of a League One club. Of course victory is the aim and taking this opportunity is imperative. But if we take a step away, the progress this club has made this season is phenomenal.  When some of us, including myself, started to waver in hope, our manager and players battled on and have put us in an incredible position.

Win or lose, we are extremely lucky to be going back to Wembley. This Saturday will be uncomfortable, but with Parkinson at the helm, we hopefully won’t be looking at next season as ‘the season’. With his team in place, we could and hopefully will get the job done this time around.

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Back to Wembley: Play off final song one – Wembley Twice, it’s Alright

12 May

By Jason McKeown

City’s return to Wembley has inspired a number of supporters to once again get musical. Just like last time, Width of a Post is looking to plug the best ones in the run up to Saturday. If you have produced a song, please email widthofapost@gmail,com with the story behind it.

Kicking us off is Martin Keighley, who follows up his Swansea record with a Bob Dylan reworking – Wembley Twice, it’s Alright.

Martin told Width of a Post the story behind his creation:

“My wife and I had planned a weekend away next week. It was to be either Wembley with City or the seaside. At half time last Thursday evening (3-1 down to Burton) she texted me with ideas for Northumberland hotels. My reply assured her that City must never be written off this season.

“As I set off at 8am for the second leg on the Sunday, she was still looking forward to walks on the beach. By 6pm, still in a state of the now all familiar euphoria, the London hotel and train were booked for the both of us. By 11.30am the next morning so were the Wembley tickets. Here we go again!

“My inner psyche demanded another song. Perhaps it’s my way to let off steam. It’s my contribution to the Wembley build up. I wanted to reflect on the fact that we were at Wembley twice in one season, a very rare feat. How many Premiership and Championship teams wish they had played a full strength team in the early rounds of the cup?

“I ended up deciding to rework an existing song, and finally chose the Bob Dylan classic “Don’t think twice, it’s alright”. It was learnt, re-written, arranged, recorded, and mastered in about 8 hours over two days. The chorus is:

When the Bantam’s roar for game 64.

This time it’s gonna be for real.

You’re the reason I’m travelling down again.

Wembley twice, it’s alright.

“I don’t have thousands of Twitter followers and I’m not looking for fame and fortune. In fact I’m happy with my lot in life. I’ve promised my wife a seaside break later in the year, but we can’t leave it too long as the new season starts in early August!”

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The long night queuing

9 May

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By Martin Gregory

Walking out of Whaddon Road after a tedious end of season game at Cheltenham, the last thing we wanted was more stress. However, that emotion was realised when, on the coach home, news broke that second leg play off tickets would go on sale on the Thursday straight after the first leg.

Rightly so, the club decided they would review this situation and took a logical decision to sell them early on a Saturday morning instead – when 90% of supporters who wanted to go had a chance of getting one. This still did not appease some people, with various supporters groups not being prioritised for tickets. In my opinion, one group at least should have received tickets, due to years of serving the club well (quite a bit of their money went into the club).

I, like many a fan, had the idea of queuing up overnight for a ticket. But with the way things went during the first leg at Valley Parade – City 3-1 down at one stage – I received texts from others saying ‘why bother?’ Reminiscing about Blackpool back in 1996, I was determined to still be at Burton. So I was ready to camp out at Valley Parade.

All week I worried, would I get a place in the queue early? Would I, along with hundreds more, have a chance of a gold ticket? I spent most of Thursday and Friday trawling the net – from Claret and Banter to WOAP – checking what other supporter’s plans were. Some were going down after Bulls game. I was not taking any chances. Leaving work at 5pm, I decided to go straight to Valley Parade and join the queue, along with other hardy souls.

I ventured down knowing a few people had been there since lunchtime (which is an unbelievable direct passion to the club) and found a party atmosphere. Deckchairs were out, crates of beer flowing and plenty of food and banter going round. I took my place as number 20 in the queue, pitched up my chair and made myself at home outside turnstile N2. Minutes later, a few more joined next to me and I lent them a spare chair. So the rapport began.

The lads I met were brilliant in the queue, watching your things if you needed to disappear for two and generally keep morale up. Two lads brought portable barbecues and people stocked up at Tesco Express. It was surreal, because the next time I checked my phone it was 9pm and the time was flying by. The queue started to grow around the back of the stand and more people were getting in the party spirit – some even playing music from their car (although the music choice was not right cracking – One Direction, for god’s sake!) Even before the stewards came, there was no trouble. Lenny the City Gent was doing a good job at organising and taking approx ticket numbers down.

At around 1am we were led through the gate into the Main Stand, where each of us were allocated a raffle number for our place in the queue. Once inside we were on a game of musical chairs – making space in our segregation pens for more people to enter. People were singing songs about the players, everyone was in good spirits.

Around 2am is when morale started to drop. The night was taking its toll. I couldn’t sleep, and many others couldn’t. Although we kept occupied by knocking a ball around, looking out onto the pitch or talking up our chances for Sunday, we kept checking the minutes which seemed to drag by.

Around 7.30am, commotion. Stewards started to enter and exit through the ticket office gate, when there was a clamour of people starting to form queues. A steward then announced on a megaphone that ticket holders 1-20 should wait in sequence, whilst our season ticket/flexi-cards were checked, and then we would be led up the stairs to the ticket office. We had to wait another half an hour, but once we were led up it’s hard to describe how it felt to finally buy and hold the tickets.

On the way back up to my car – deckchair, tickets and bag in tow – I was approached to sell my tickets. That’s how desperate people were. I was shocked to find that tickets did not sell out until lunchtime.

Looking back now and, despite not really needing to wait 15 hours in the cold for a ticket, it really was worth it. Although still tired on Sunday, it was one of the greatest days of my life and I will never forget the atmosphere and the buzz. Now it’s back to our second home of Wembley, and I believe that this time we can see it through.

A rollercoaster week for Bradford City

8 May

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By Phil Abbott

There are fanatics the world over who travel inordinate distances, splashing exorbitant cash, to enjoy the exhilaration of the world’s fastest, longest and most white-knuckle generating rollercoasters imaginable. These apparently eccentric, irrational and somewhat maverick thrill seekers often give their right arm for dream trips across the globe to experience the best of the best, ultimately ending in a feeling of utter satisfaction and a ‘I survived the ……..rollercoaster’ car sticker as a material souvenir.

When you think about it, many parallels can be drawn between these high-octane sybarites and many thousands of pleasure seeking football fans. This week has been a perfect time to draw such a comparison.

Like the libertine coaster-holics, Bradford City fans have been dragged through the most incredible gut churning feelings in the two play-off semi-final legs with Burton Albion.  The four-day ride has given Bantams fans many incredible ups and downs, some that we saw coming, others that came out of nowhere.

At times, you’d be forgiven for thinking the wheels had come off, or the brakes had failed, and at other times, you’d be shouting in ecstasy on top of the world. For many, the contemplation of a ride cut short in its prime was too much to contemplate after such a magnificent season, but following the monumental efforts on Sunday, the coaster-cars have driven straight through the station in anticipation of one more gripping sortie on the incredible journey this season has taken us on.

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In the run up to the first leg at Valley Parade, there was huge optimism and even greater anticipation of another extraordinary push for Wembley glory. In truth, and I still believe it, I was sure that City were the best team left once Rotherham sealed their well-deserved promotion via the automatic route. The previous week, I was unimpressed by a promotion chasing Cheltenham side who had offered a stuttering, low energy performance against a City side who had already secured a play off berth. Having had the better of Burton and Northampton during the season, I was quietly confident that this year would be ‘our year’.

As seems to have become a habit, my trip from Nottinghamshire to evening fixtures at Valley Parade was only punctuated by a quick stop off for a pre-match bite, before dropping down into Bradford for the opening gambits of the League Two play offs. The guy who served me asked of my thoughts for the game, and flippantly I explained that I thought we’d win through in the end, but such is the wont of the celestial script-writers, we would do it the hard way. He looked at me strangely! But, how right such prophecy was!

A big City crowd waited patiently, with audible excitement for the Bantams to emerge from the dressing rooms at Valley Parade in the first leg, but unlike the rollercoaster aficionados waiting for their ride, City’s course had still to be plotted and nobody had a clue what was going to happen next. The teams paraded onto the pitch to a triumphant chorus, the home crowd in unison, rhythmically  accompanying ‘Take me home’, much akin to the sounds of a rollercoaster climbing its first slow ascent.

The whistle blew, the screams hurled and we were off, racing down the track at 100mph. The opening salvos were a blur, with excitement and nerves getting the better of City in particular. The Bantams were dealt an early blow as Calvin Zola outleapt the bamboozled defence to bury a powerful header, and the tie was alive.

City needed a shake up, and if that sudden baulk wasn’t enough to rattle them into action, a 2nd goal for Burton left Valley Parade in almost silence, apart from the 600 or so Burton fans who could hardly believe their eyes.

When Burton defender McCrory went down like Gordon Banks to block Garry Thompson’s powerful drive, there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that City were deserving of a penalty and had been thrown a huge lifeline in the fixture. For this moment, there was real hope that City could get back into the game, and indeed Nahki Wells coolly slotted the ball home to draw the Bantams to within one goal.

Was the comeback on? We all hoped so. But no sooner had the City faithful enjoyed an upturn in fortune, than they were picking themselves up again when Robbie Weir plunged in a low cross to restore Burton’s two goal advantage and stun the Kop once again as half time arrived. I was shaken, I have to admit. It was like I’d been dragged through the loop the loop with my hands tied behind my back.

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The City fans needed some extra impetus from somewhere. This was not a ride that anyone sporting the claret and amber colours was enjoying. It was clear that a two goal deficit was, even by Bradford standards, a seemingly insurmountable task. With City’s backline leaking like a dismembered brake pipe, there was a danger that the rollercoaster ride would stop halfway through, the passengers disembarking, not to return to the queue for the next pass. Then, halfway through the second half, a moment of brilliance from Garry Thompson immediately restored the waning faith and City’s bandwagon was back on track.

The final minutes, despite constant City pressure, yielded no extra goals, and so, feeling like we’d in some way escaped a catastrophe, off trudged city fans to contemplate the game and mull over our strategies for acquiring the golden Burton away tickets.

Anecdotally, the highs and lows in emotion for those beating the harshly cold and uncomfortable overnight queues are remarkable in their own right. It was only when the holder of ticket number ‘three hundred and something’ was ushered onto the Sunwin stand concourse and the doors slammed shut behind him, just under two hours before tickets went on sale, that the level of support this club enjoys was truly quantifiable. One would be forgiven for thinking that this was some sort of holding pen at Sangatte!

The tableau of impeccable patronage was strewn across the concourse, deckchairs, sleeping bags, empty food containers and cold, tired bodies littering the well-ordered waiting lines. It was all in search of a golden ticket – the ticket that would see the City charges plot and execute a tremendous ‘job’ on Burton and begin the trek onto Wembley for a second time. No big dipper the world over could come close to matching the thrills of the unprecedented chapter still to be told.

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After exchanging equal blows in the opening stanza, there was little to separate the two teams, and even less to suggest to the fans of either side that their team was in the ascendancy. The tension was high and it was no surprise that it was a mistake that allowed the next phase of this epic tie to take another course. With Nahki Wells stealing in on an increasingly familiar defensive slip up, the City fans went delirious, suddenly daring to believe that they could be visiting Wembley for the 2nd time this season.

There would be many City fans who would have broken the heart rate or blood pressure monitor had they have been plugged in at the stage when James Hanson fired in a delightfully crisp half volley to put City two up, and, for the first time, ahead in the tie. However, with the way things had gone in the first leg, many around me were still cautious, if not a little more optimistic. They knew that, like the most temperamental pleasure park ride, the well-oiled machine could, at any time, come grinding to a halt.

Indeed, there was to be a temporary fault that had the potential to put the City machine out of service. When Stephen Darby missed a tackle on the wing and the outstanding Jacque Maghoma was allowed to run towards the penalty area, a tenacious Garry Thompson came haring back in defence, only to bring him down, for a penalty. The undulations in this epic trip were beginning to come too quick and my stomach was feeling physically churned. The successful strike brought the game back to evens and did nothing but add to the torture the City fans were going through.

With tension at an all-time high in the away stands, so soon after the team had been victims of their own tenacious tracking back, Wells eased some of that tension with his second goal of the game and at that stage, it seemed that finally, the Burton challenge had been thwarted. Whist there was far from a relaxed attitude amongst the City faithful, it was clear that the goal, so soon after their penalty lifeline, knocked the stuffing out of a quickly tiring Brewers team. With time running out, the pendulum had, perhaps, for the first time swung well and truly in City’s favour.

Unable to see the clock count down behind the goals, the majority of away fans were supplied with regular time updates by a very accommodating steward. Time seemed to stand still, and even though City were well in control, the thought that there were yet more twists in this crazy season to manifest themselves before the clock ran out tempered nobody’s heart rate.

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After the shrill blast of the final whistle, delirious celebration erupted both in the stands and on the field. Voltage Cherry shirts were launched into the crowd, proud chests displayed by the Bantams hero’s sapping every moment of adulation from their terrific fans. It was to be the first time I had seen a team respond to an encore call and only a full 30 minutes after the final whistle did we leave the ground to begin to rack our brains as to where we had left the car in our pre-match haze of excitement.

On getting back to the car, physically exhausted, I had the white knuckle feeling. Prizing my tightly bound fingers away from my palms, I reattached them around the steering wheel and gently – ever so gently – hit the road for home. Dazed.

No sooner had we arrived home, news broke of the ticketing arrangements for Wembley, and, with many still suffering the blur of a hangover, fans embarked on the conundrum of gaining tickets online with a distribution system that could teach even the best timewasting goalkeeper a thing or two about time management!

Burton 1 City 3 (4-5 agg): Watching on TV

7 May

2013-05-05 13.58.36

By Mahesh Johal

“Supporting Bradford City has never been easy, but on days like this it is impossible to imagine ever wanting to do anything but”. One of the unfortunate ones not to get a ticket for this second leg, I am here to describe how hard it was to support Bradford City on television.

A Manchester-based Bantam, there was no chance of queuing for a ticket. Hayfever stricken, I found it hard to sleep on Friday. My allergy to pollen was a reason, the pressure of playing cricket on the Saturday another, but fundamentally I couldn’t sleep because of my jealousy of the people queuing at Valley Parade to get their golden tickets. I stayed up till 2.30am and read with pride the tweets about the #bcafcqueue.

I tried endlessly to obtain a ticket, but as I arrived to Leeds train station on Saturday night I was resigned to the fact that I would be watching this game from my house. Whilst my surroundings were familiar, there’s something special about watching your team away from home. As a collective group, you are one! You sing as one, you cheer as one, you cry as one! Regardless of the result, you have the common goal…supporting your team!

I watched the first half alone. It was tough. To hear the ferocious support of City’s following only made me want to be there more. In a weird way, I was supporting my team but at the same time I felt like I wasn’t contributing to their performance. My roars and claps couldn’t be heard. I’d like to think that Gary Jones has fed off my enthusiastic fist pumps every time he takes a corner. But yesterday was different. Whilst I tried, nothing I did could help my team. Instead the responsibility lay with the 1,600 or so at Burton.

Nahki Wells goal brought pandemonium in the East Terrace, but it also created wild scenes in Rawdon. On the phone to a loved one, my reputation of a calm and collected individual was shattered. I screamed with delight, but instead of finding the nearest person to hug I jumped around by myself. It was only until the third replay of the goal that I realised that I was still on the phone. I felt slightly embarrassed that someone had heard my emotional outpouring; however, when you’re in the ground you don’t feel conscious about these things. The emotion grabs hold of you and you react naturally. Wells’ goal saw an outpouring of relief, belief and hope.

Fandom is an amazing thing. There must be theories to explain it and one that comes to mind is Benedict Anderson’s ‘Imagined Communities’. We don’t know each other but we all have something in common and this in turn interconnects all in an ‘imagined community’. However we are more than a community. The club’s history, and this season makes our connection different. I can’t put my finger on it, but whatever it is, you could see it in the celebrations after Wells’ goal.

The arrival of my cousin made the second half even more tense. There was surely nervous tension in the air at the Pirelli, but again you were going through the torture with thousands of City fans. The natural reaction to tension is to release it. For example, you chant as loud as you can. At my house, the tension stayed inside me. I tried to shout, but the words didn’t come out.

James Hanson’s goal brought unbridled joy again, but it was the quality of the strike that was most emphasised by the television cameras. From the moment the ball dropped to Hanson I just knew he would score. The way the ball sat up, the position of his body, the laser accuracy. Seeing the goal unfold and the reaction of the crowd was something truly special.

Two nil up and Wembley in sight; did anyone really think it was going to be that easy? Hero on Thursday, Garry Thompson became the villain after giving away the penalty. He didn’t mean it. In fairness he was tracking back to win the ball and his over eagerness got the better of him. I immediately thought penalty, and the class Jacques Maghoma clinically fired home. The tension was at fever pitch inside me!

‘Supporting Bradford City has never been easy, but on days like this it is impossible to imagine ever wanting to do anything but’.

Nakhi’s winner was one of those moments that made the years of pain all worth it. The goal was reminiscent to the one he scored against Chesterfield. Hanson flick on and, with his back to goal, Wells scored. If less emphatic, this one was more important. I love watching crowds celebrating, and seeing the ‘is it in/did he save it’ reaction was brilliant. Even better was Wells reaction to the crowd. If this is his last season, what a talisman he’s been and what moments he has given us.

Those in the ground may differ in opinion, but on Sky the final half an hour was tense but easier than games I have seen before. We looked in control and solid. Billy Kee had his chances, but I was in the North Stand that night we beat Aston Villa and I had the same confident feeling that we would progress.

The frontmen rightly get the plaudits. I said in my first article for this website that these two play off each other and their performance yesterday were sublime. You notice it live at games, but watching the television coverage helps you appreciate their partnership more.

Individuals deserve praise but this was a CLUB performance. That’s everyone down from the chairmen, the management, the team, the ticket office employees, the stewards there on that cold Friday night and last, but definitely not least, the fans!

The images of Phil Parkinson at full time showed how much he wanted this. He epitomised how much we wanted this! Supporting Bradford City has never been easy and, come May 18th, I know I will be in filled with nerves. But after this season who would bet against us completing the impossible…

Bradford City bring back good times with Wembley return

5 May

2013-05-05 13.56.28

Burton Albion 1

Maghoma 55 (pen)

Bradford City 3

Wells 27+57, Hanson 50

(Bradford City win 5-4 on aggregate)

Sunday 2 May, 2013

By Jason McKeown

Supporting Bradford City has never been easy. You are mocked and pitied by others. You endure lots of terrible football. Disappointment becomes second nature, because it seems like, wherever you place the bar of expectation, the club will usually fall well below it. The glory days had become something from a different era. We’ve experienced some very difficult and dark times.

Which makes days like today so much more special. After enduring years of failure, testing your faith and testing your sanity, today City got their day of celebration. Today, years of frustration, heartbreak and so, so many home defeats has been rewarded. Today, every reason for supporting Bradford City was vindicated. Today.

The scenes at full time, after Bradford City had defied the odds, once again, to book a second trip of the season to Wembley, will live in the memory forever. They were every bit as electrifying as the best ever moments supporting the club. Some who were there for Blackpool 17 years ago stated this was on a par. Being at Villa Park in January may or may not have shaded this, but it’s all academic. For a club that has achieved no success since 2000, to have two occasions like this in one season is astonishing.

Astonishing because of how good it tastes. The memories of Wolves, Blackpool, Liverpool etc were beginning to fade. The mind plays tricks – were they really that good, or have we just built up a halcyon recollection of emotions that we could never possibly hope to relive again? The truth is we’d forgotten what this felt like. How amazing it is to feel this happy following your football club.

Supporting Bradford City has never been easy, but on days like this it is impossible to imagine ever wanting to do anything but.

All of which masks what was, in truth, a terrifying ordeal. Three days on from seemingly throwing promotion hopes away with that dismal first 45 minutes at Valley Parade, hope had been allowed to grow and theories of how we could turn it around given wings to fly. Beforehand I was hugely confident that we could do it, but as soon as the match kicked off I instantly questioned my stupidity in what I had been thinking. Have I just set myself up for another terrible let down? As Burton charged forwards in the opening minutes, the temptation to run out of the stadium and go home there and then was strong.

Even when City took the lead 27 minutes in, my nerves only increased when they should have eased. A horrendous misjudgement by Burton defender Marcus Holness – an attempted back header to keeper Stuart Tomlinson falling well short – allowed Nahki Wells to steal in and tap the ball home. Everyone went barmy. I could not jump up down myself, as I was hugged by people either side of me and from the row in front. Manic, but brilliant. From being 3-1 down at half time on Thursday, City had pulled the aggregate score back to 3-3. That’s why my anxiety grew. It was now in our hands. That was scary.

The goal had followed a half hour of nothingness. Andrew Davies, back from suspension, handled the still-strong Calvin Zola excellently, and Jacques Maghoma was kept quiet by a much improved Stephen Darby. Jon McLaughlin made one good save, but Phil Parkinson would later talk about the huge psychological advantage City gained from Burton resorting to 4-4-2 mid-way through the half, as the Brewer’s first leg tactics were nullified.

Indeed Burton were on the ropes. Wells’ goal unravelling their composure and revealing their insecurity. A few seconds later a scramble in the box resulted in the referee Graham Scott blowing for a City penalty and it seemed like we had one foot at Wembley. Alas, Wells was ruled to be offside in the build up and the linesman persuaded Scott to award a Burton goal kick instead. But it was still a blow of some sorts to Burton. They were hanging on, and we had nearly exposed the thinness of the margins.

Five minutes into the second half, and Gary Jones – back to his magnificent best after a no-show Thursday – sent Wells away down City’s right. He was challenged, but the ball ricocheted central towards the edge of the penalty area where James Hanson was charging forwards. A powerful low finish – Tomlinson could not get near it – and the back of the net ruffled. A huge roar. The celebrations were immense both on and off the pitch. In a season of incredible moments, this was right up there with the best.

A fitting goalscorer too. Hanson had played well Thursday but was widely criticised, as usual. Today he was unplayable. Sensational. For how much Zola has been praised over the last few days and Hanson compared unfavourably, today James’ critics must once again eat their words. He and Wells gave the performances of their lives, and Burton could not cope. Hope was turning into realism. Wembley on the horizon.

A scare came five minutes later when the home side finally came to life. Maghoma got away from Darby, and Garry Thompson’s desperate lunge to deny him a shot on goal resulted in a penalty. It is claimed that the challenge was outside the box. It is also claimed Thompson was the last man and should have gone. After the handball antics of the first leg, Burton were in no position to take the high ground on the latter point.

So just like on Thursday, the 2-0 down home side pulled one back from the penalty spot – Maghoma doing the business – but just like Thursday, the away side responded quickly. It took all of two minutes for Wells to restore City’s lead with a clever turn and shot that Tomlinson might have made a better fist of keeping out. The ball trickled slowly over the line and we were in dreamland.

Looking from the outside, the last half an hour must have seemed curiously routine for City. Burton were shot to pieces. Their attempts at coming back lacked confidence or conviction. A couple of half chances were dealt with by McLaughlin, but for the most part City reduced them to pot shots from distance that were so wayward they flew out of the ground. Meanwhile City continued to attack in a measured way, looking more likely to score.

Being on the inside, however, the last half an hour was utter torture. Burton only needed one goal to force extra time, and the minutes ticked by painfully slowly. My heart was beating so fast. My breathing got heavier and heavier. At times I had to turn the other way and stop watching the game. From being all over at half time on Thursday to the brink of Wembley, the prize was too important for anything but total devastation to occur if we let this slip from our grasp. City had two very, very strong penalty appeals turned away that might have made it safer. Where six minutes of injury time came from is a mystery.

But we were magnificent. Nathan Doyle’s return to the starting XI bringing calm and rational-thought to City’s play. Davies – complete with a head bandage in the second half – sensational at the back. Jones, Meredith, Darby, Reid, Thompson, Rory McArdle – pillars of strength. For how brilliant Burton were on Thursday, City were doubly impressive today. For how much we froze on Thursday, Burton were now the ones who had bottled it.

Finally, the final whistle. Cue the celebrations. Me and my wife hugged each other and I realised that she was in tears. The last time she had cried at City, we were 4-0 down to Swansea at Wembley. I started supporting City in 1997, so have seen some good times at least. She saw her first City match in 2002 and unfortunately could not join me at Villa Park. I’m so glad that she has at last experienced this kind of magical moment.

Some fans invaded the pitch, but the police’s heavy handiness discouraged others from joining. Instead the players were able to party in front of us. Dancing up and down to our chants, throwing their shirts into the crowd. The highlight for me – and it was possibly the highlight of the whole day – was Parkinson’s pumped up celebrations as he ran around the pitch. It’s no secret that I am a big, big Parkinson fan to the point I irritate others. I’m so pleased for him. He endured some strong criticism post Wembley that was undeserved. Please, dear reader, join me in rugby tackling Parkinson and not letting him back up until he signs that bloody contract.

The players went inside, but we were not going home until they came back out. In the meantime Mark Lawn leapt from the director’s box to pitchside and was hugged by fans at the front of the stand. Finally our heroes came back. It was still early afternoon, and the party was just getting started. Talk of Wembley is great, but let’s enjoy this achievement first.

“We’re proud of you” was the chant from the City fans and how well deserved it was. As fans we’ve spent years booing and jeering, singing “you’re not fit to wear the shirt” and, once, “love the club, hate the team”. “We’re proud of you” is praise indeed and the players and management deserve every bit of credit coming to them and more. Magnificent. Thank you.

But football supporting is, first and foremost, a selfish thing, and today belonged to us, the fans. It has been an incredibly difficult 13 years supporting Bradford City. The bad times have completely outweighed the little good. That we still have a club to support has been our biggest – neigh, our only – achievement. And it is for days like this that we put in all their effort, spend all that money, and sing all those songs following the club up and down the country.

Days like this, when, for once, the sun shines on our wonderful football club.

City: McLaughlin, Darby, Davies, McArdle, Meredith, Thompson, Doyle, Jones, Reid (Atkinson 73), Hanson, Wells

Not used: Duke, Nelson, McHugh, Ravenhill Hines, Connell

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2013-05-05 13.57.07

2013-05-05 14.14.02

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