Along with a photo of the Stand and my (£38) 1981/81 season ticket, the following article appeared in Issue 5, Aug 90 of the Deranged Ferret! Fanzine. Allan Clarke had just been appointed as manager and the cover showed a photo of Colin Murphy on the phone with text 'MURPH’s MISSION TERMINATED. CLARKEY’S CRUSADE KICKS OFF' and text “Bye Mr. Reames. I expect I’ll hear from you again when you’re back in the Conference.”
Memories Of The South Park Stand.
On Saturday 13th January 1990 I visited for the last possible time a life expired building in the historic city of Lincoln. The structure in question, The South Park Stand at Sincil Bank, was never worthy of architectural listing for preservation, nor quite made the top ten in Prince Charles list of
Monstrous Carbuncles, yet deserves an epitaph for the important part it occupies in my life....
Even when I first sat watching the Imps in the early 1970’s the South Park Stand looked likely to follow teams such as Barrow, Newport, Southport and Workington into oblivion. At the very back you could, when bored, watch other matches through the holes in the woodwork or visiting fans being escorted from their coaches. Anyone desperately hungry but broke, had a choice of several flavours of solid Wrigleys that also reduced draughts and held the structure together. The whole ground always seemed full then, although attendances presumably slumped in the early days of Graham Taylor’s management when the first win seemed very elusive. Not surprisingly when it came, Terry Branston leaned across the terrace wall and kissed the ugliest woman I’ve ever seen. That was of course prior to September 79 when the Stoke fans surged forward and the wall fell down. (With the away fans relegated to their present corner the atmosphere was never the same again.) Seated too high to see the Cathedral or 90% of the passage of the ball from goalkeeper to forwards, never-the-less, I was hooked on LCFC viewed from back seat Q52, which was slightly to the side of the toilets and tea bar. Guessing if you would see any trains crossing the Clan roof acted as a distraction and it all seemed worthwhile on 17 April 76 when a 5 – 0 thrashing of Doncaster celebrated escape to Division 3. I cannot remember the ups and downs of the early 1980’s quite as clearly but my programmes show beating Northampton 8 – 0 in Oct 80 and Bournemouth 9 – 0 in Dec 82 as among the highlights. I do recall the latter since I wrote to the BBC asking why it had not at least been mentioned on Match of the Day. (In those days we were sometimes even on TV ourselves with a youthful Glenn Cockerill featuring on the skill spot at a later game.) In about 1984 I reverted to watching my games from the renewed/sanitised railway end, which of course had a complete roof on it at the time. The nearest I came to the South Park Stand was the Social Club underneath. One day the ceiling appeared to move and that got me wondering why the foot stomping and load above had not long since brought it crashing down. (He was drunk really – Eds.) The team of course did just that and the St Andrews Stand went with them in 86/87 thus extending the life of the smaller counterpart.
The new “No Smoking” and prophetic faded notices from the Insurers, (Liverpool, London & Globe) “It is dangerous to drop lighted matches” were being rigorously obeyed on my nostalgic visit in 1990, a far cry from the times the fat man with the pipe annoyed us all with the dung he used to smoke. I think some of the other safety improvements such as the emergency exits came at the same time as the fences around the pitch (when we thought “Div 2 here we come”). The blue paint and timber barriers to stop use of the back (and front) rows however helped ruin my last visit almost as much as the Aldershot penalty that deprived us of points. Some familiar faces and voices, (but none from the broken Tannoy) eg Maurice the bus driver, were among the sparse crowd sharing the experience as the South Park Stand completed its slow death. Although some plastic seats had sprouted in the centre (reducing the splinters in bums statistics) I found no evidence of the repainting that helped to keep it in one piece nor a rush of Advertisers keen to display. The confusing Hunter’s logos across the top which simultaneously told the rest of the crowd that half was for sale and half sold have disappeared for ever but not my many memories. One wonders if the replacement will bear a more memorable name* (City Council and Canoloni suckers sponsorship executive relief pensioners seat stand or Murphys Memorial spring to mind) but it can never be the same. In the words of Colin Murphy, “Bombing commences next August, full battledress required, Angels one five, over and out”
R.I.P. South Park Stand 1929 to 1990
* Competition – serious suggestions required
