We should bring back 'The end is nigh' bloke who was a permanent fixture outside Wilders on match day. He could put the fear of God up the kiddiwinks

He was great wasn't he?
Such a lovely man.

or even a drive thru at the martin dawes end of the ground..be a lot of fun on match days

I often wonder what happened to him. Don't think I ever saw him outside the HJ, maybe he didn't realise we've moved stadium and still turns up by the rubble of the Fletcher End every Sunday.

Add an extra 2 players to the side and become an RU team, since I often read (on these forums) how superior their game is; in the media; through sponsorship support; and at an international level, so that'll make everyone happy.

A lad at school headed a high bomb that was spinning down on its axis. He was knocked out for about ten minutes.

Ah yes, if it were only that easy. Don't forget we'd also have to:

1. Ensure the forwards greased their hands before every game in order to bring their handling skills up to RU standards.
2. Issue matchsticks to the crowd for insertion under their eyelids - and use an alarm clock rather than a final hooter.
3. Recruit more Henrys and Rodneys and/or players with double barreled surnames.
4. Buy a red carpet to accommodate frequent visits by members of the Royal family.


There must be more, but I'll leave that to the rest of you.

In the 1970s there used to be two of them. I was never sure as to whether they actually went into the ground to watch the match, but I do remember they travelled down to Wembley in 1974 and 75.

I guess they were wrong about the "End being Nigh".

At £4 a pint get somebody that can actually pull a pint of real ale properly, the spotty youths that usually serve it make it look like a pot of flat dishwater, mind you it sometimes taste like it as well. If your paying £4 you want a quality pint !!!

Beers Filling Up Through the Bottom!: https://youtu.be/wiu_IX14wLI we need these

Beers Filling Up Through the Bottom!: https://youtu.be/wiu_IX14wLI we need these

I once bundled down to the front of the Fletch, in a beer sodden stupor, and accosted Lucinda from the Starlites.
"Oi Lucinda, fancy coming for a drink?"
"How do you know my name?" She replied.
I would like to say a wonderful date ensued where we discussed Wittgenstein, Proust and Metaphysical poetry over some Barolo before heading to a hotel for some carnal activities. Alas I simply pointed out that her name was on the back of her shirt, which it had been for the previous 6 months, and toddled off. Cracking knockers though.

An anecdote Peter Ustinov would be proud of, sir. And people wonder why we look back on the distant days of Wilderspool so fondly. On-field fisticuffs, decent atmosphere and beer-fuelled, bleery-eyed lechery. It was a simple age, with simple pleasures and we wallowed in them.

I even offered her a warm mars bar and cup of earl grey from the rickety trolley that circulated the ground for us to enjoy on the blue seats under snookers...it wasn't to be!

A trophy cabinet with the CC,LL and GF trophies would do the trick!

The obvious one is re positioning the screen so everybody can see it.