I went with my Dad a few times then mostly with school age mates .I lived off Orford Lane when i started going & went to Beamont school. What used to amaze me was that ,after getting home ,usually cold & wet, i could get to the newsagents within the hour for the sporting pink & read about all the games played that day.

The good old pink! ...awaits innuendo bingo....

Born and bred just off Marshouse Lane, although I've been in the North East for 30 plus years. I still bleed primrose and blue but from a distance. First clear memory is beating Featherstone at Wembley and wearing primrose and blue jeans. In my defense I was 11 and it was the 70's.

Home town team. I first went with my late brother in law, and then started to go with a mate. We always enjoyed the 7.30 midweek games, as the Priory Street chippy was open after the game. My Dad never took me, but I took him for a game against Leeds at Wilderspool. Couldn't get him away from the Bevan stand bar after the game, as we had a convivial chat with a group of Loiners, that went on for some time. He claimed to be at Odsal in 54, but mum also said that she could never remember him ever going to a game. I never knew who to believe.

I remember going to an evening game against Leeds sometime in the 60s ,third round of the CC & we won 3-2 but despite the score it was a good game played in a quagmire. The horizontal rain & sleet was incessant coming straight over the Spion Kop & chilling the bones of everyone in the stadium.

Was that at the ground end or the Causeway end? It's weird the things you remember, because I never remember going there. I do remember there was a newsagent/off-licence just near the ground and when we were about 13-14 if I went with my mates we would ask older fans to get us some cigs or cans, but we usually gave up after about half an hour of being told to get lost.

It was usually The Hut on Wash Lane, now Cantilever Chippie, after the game for us.

From about the age of 3 we lived on Burgess Avenue so could hear the cheering from our back garden on match days. I remember my dad taking me to A team games when I was little but only started going properly when me & a couple of mates would sneak in for free for the last 10 mins or so of games when they opened the gates.

Got me hooked and I was a season ticket holder for many years, did home & away and A team games too for a good few seasons.......my proudest moment was having my car number plate read out over the tannoy at half time in an A team game coz I was parked illegally!.....well, that and being in the same class at Boteler as a certain Paul Cullen.

Not lived in Warrington for over 25 years but still try to make every home game and am super excited to see GI in a Wire shirt.

Junior school gave away tickets in the late 70's. Straight away, I was hooked.
Then, in the early 80's, the family moved to the Wilderspool area, and our front door was a five minute walk to Fletcher St.
A year after that, John Bevan and Ken Kelly visited our school, and gave out leaflets for season tickets. Umpteen season tickets later (though none in the last decade), I'm still here..

I reckon I'm fairly balanced as a fan. I'll "blow smoke.....", when we're doing well, but I'll also criticise when needs be. No point being a doom merchant OR a happy clapper. You HAVE to take the rough with the smooth in this life.

Like a few others on here I was taken by my dad to watch the games at Wilderspool, normally after a bad week because I had been playing in the brook again and fallen in, or I had lost my clogs. I always considered it a punishment to get me out of the house so mother could get a bit of R & R. We would catch a bus to town then walk down Bridge St and across Bridge Foot. Dad always treated us to a seat in the old wooden stand so it wasn't until several years later that I became acquainted with the urine pools in the Fletcher end. I was very young and I can remember my first highlights of a rugby match to be the entrance of the gladiators coming out of the tannoy, watching the trains shunting up and down the line, and then St John's ambulance with their sheet at half time collecting and dodging the pennies and three pence bits being thrown by the half time crowd. After several 'punishment' trips I began to recognise individual Warrington players. Jack Fraser was the first from the tannoy, and I felt really sorry for Brian Bevan. I remember thinking he must be really poor because he looked like an old man and had more bandages wrapped around him than an Egyptian mummy, yet he still had to turn out to earn a few bob at the weekend. At some point, after I had learned to recognise all the players, I was hooked on rugby league..... unfortunately we moved to Southern Ireland just before I turned 11 and that put a stop to my rugby for a couple of years.

It was the ground end of Priory Street, and Marshall's was the name of the shop (who did a great trade on match day). There was nothing like a bag of hot chips to warm your hands on after a midweek game.

Done the falling in the brook on a few occasions, but had to laugh about your clogs reference. Did they float off down stream, or were they misplaced in a separate incident?

The clogs were a bit of an exaggeration. It was my gym pumps, lost somewhere in the changing rooms at Oakwood Ave after we had been in the assembly hall, listening to some weird music and "pretending to be a tree in a gentle breeze".

Dad took me along at an early age ... Fraser, Bevan, Challinor, Brindle. Gilfeddar to name but a few.
Went to Bevs final match vs. Leigh and was in the corner with my sister when he scored early on (we are both on the photo. which is often shown of that try). I do remember being allowed to run on the pitch (such was the excitement). We also stayed behind after the game when Bev came out to thank the crowd and we sang Waltzing Matilda.
We lived past Appleton Thorn and there wasn't much there then. I too remember the "Football Pink". If the result came through that we had won away there was not much doubt that the car would be revved up and we would be off to Stockton Heath (just over the swing bridge) and I would be sent in to get it and read it on the way home. A few days later I would cut out the report and stick it in the Wire scrap book.

There were/are a few Wire fans now from Wales, after the N Wales team at Wrexham went tits up. They started coming to watch Wire instead. Arsenal Al is pally with them.

Dad played 24 games for the Wire back in the day and was born in Marsh Street...never really had the chance to be an avid fan growing up as we had moved to London by then: played kick and clap at school and university but always used to watch the RL on the BBC on Saturday afternoons and admired the skill compared to what I was playing. By the time I was more mobile after university I had moved out of the country so couldn't get to matches. Of the choice between Warrington, Halifax and Salford (my dad's teams), Wire was the only one, being dad's hometown club. Discovering family in Warrington a couple of years ago just cemented the conviction.