Wolves blog: My Premier diary part one

I've decided to write about something different for today's blog,

.

If I was to post up yet another blog about the failings of Mick's management at Wolves, it would be as depressing to write as it would probably be to read.

Therefore, I thought I would share with you my diary of our one and only year in the Premiership so far.

The first half is below and the second half will be posted in my blog next Friday.

Normal service will be resumed for Tuesday's blog.

The Prawn Sandwich Brigade – The diary of Wolves Premiership season Part One

The date is 23rd May 2003, it's my 30th Birthday, and it's three days before that historic day at the Millennium Stadium in Cardiff.

I'd spent a fantastic weekend up in the Lake District with my missus and then I traveled across to Cardiff with my brother to watch our heroes in old gold 'n' black finally make it to the promise land.

At last, a season playing against England's elite, my god this was going to be exhilarating.

That summer I went away on holiday to Kefalonia, excitingly expectant of news of our first Premiership signing.

Rumours were rife of potential big names being lured to the club, with even Dennis Bergkamp being touted for one last hurrah.

And what do we get instead? Oleg Luzhny. The celebrations were over and reality started to sink in.

If Luzhny represented the sum of the club's ambitions, then why bother trying to get promotion in the first place?

The club saw further adventurous signings throughout the season of; Isaac Okroronkwo, Jody Craddock, Silas, Henri Camara, Joey Gudjonsson, Vio Ganea, Carl Cort and Steffen Iversen.

Jody is the one surviving member from that season. But who else would we want from that lot at the club now anyway?

Judas Camara or maybe the ever-trying and fans' favourite, Ganea? Out of all of them, Okroronkwo was probably the only player we let go a bit too early.

I was in quite a lucky position the year we went up the Premiership.

I was in a marketing job at the time at Banks's Brewery (Wolves & Dudley, Marstons, etc etc).

I looked after brands such as Stella, Guinness, Britvic, Coca-Cola and Carlsberg. They all had corporate facilities at many of the Premiership clubs, and by god was I going to use them!

All my contacts at these brands were made well aware (by me) that I was a staunch Wolves fan and that should they feel the inclination to entertainment me at a Premiership fixture, then they were more than welcome to do so.

The one proviso was that I also got to take along my brother, Ryan, who was a season ticket holder with me in the John Ireland Stand (as it was then).

My plan that season was to tap-up as many of these contacts for corporate tickets as I could and I would try to get along to the other Premiership away games as an ordinary paying punter.

That season I managed to blag my way into corporate hospitality at Man Utd, Bolton, Villa, Leeds, Liverpool, Chelsea and Birmingham.

I'll admit that my ambition to "pay" for some of the other away games never came to fruition and I always regret not traveling to Man City to see us draw 3-3 or our 1-1 at Newcastle.

Thank god I never missed us actually winning an away game.

And just so you don't think I don't pay my way, for the 2001 – 2002 season I traveled to (and paid for) every away game in the Championship.

Anyway, I wanted to share with you the highs and lows of the Premiership corporate hospitality experience.

Starting with the game at Old Trafford; Diageo (Guinness, Bells, Smirnoff etc) had kindly invited myself and my brother (they had no choice) along for our third game of the season against Man Utd.

It was ironic that my first taste of match day hospitality was where Roy Keane infamously stated that some of the corporate crowd were more interested in eating prawn sandwiches than watching the actual football.

It did feel a little weird, eating a three course meal before kick-off, reading the complimentary program and placing my complimentary bet.

The experience was fantastic right up to kick-off and then it all went a little bit pants.

At Old Trafford, sitting in a box, really meant just that. You sat behind a perspex window and watched the game unfold.

The crowd noise was piped in through a speaker that wouldn't have sounded out-of-place on the cheapest of clock radios.

It was like watching the game at home, but with a static TV camera and an awful view.

I mingled with some of the other corporate guests in the box before the game, most of whom were completely clueless about football and were obviously only there for the free nosh.

They all seemed a little surprised at my obvious passion for Wolves and I must admit it was at this point I wanted to be out there on the terraces, singing about when we used to raise a glass or two with the fans, instead of talking shop with a load of suits.

As for the game itself, talk before was of Wolves getting a double digit thrashing.

Fergie it seemed had taken Wolves a bit lightly. Thinking this would be an easy victory he rested Giggs and Scholes and played the now forgotten men of Kleberson and Djemba-Djemba in midfield instead.

An early goal from O'Shea was enough for Manure to win the game, but Camara should have had a hatful and apart from Silas, the whole Wolves team had every reason to be proud that night.

The Wolves faithful out sung the Man Utd fans for the whole of the game and although I was warm and well fed, I really regret not being out there to back the team with them.

After our comprehensive thumping at home by Chelski, with Crespo coming on and scoring a brace in what seemed about five seconds, I travelled to the Reebok Stadium for my first ever visit to see us play Bolton.

Out of my seven corporate trips that season, this goes down as my favourite.

Pre-match I enjoyed a cracking meal and entertainment by Dave Spikey of Phoenix Nights fame.

I chatted to Dave and saw him play at the Glee Club in Brum a few weeks later.

I then placed a £20 bet on Alex Rae to score the first goal at 25-1 and settled down in the corporate section, which thankfully this time was actually outside.

Whenever I'm sitting with away fans, I always tell my brother to follow my lead and sit on his hands and to try not to react when Wolves score, or come close to scoring.

As soon as a game kicks off this sensibility is thrown right out of the window and I just can't help myself.

When Alex Rae let fly to score a 30 yard thunderbolt, which not only earned me £500 from my bet, but also meant that we had ended our eight hour premiership goal drought, I shot up out of my seat like a jack in the box and went absolutely mental.

Quickly realizing that I was about to be lynched, I sheepishly sat back down whilst still pounding my fist with delight.

Five minutes from time and there were two thoughts running through my mind.

The first was how fantastic it would be for Wolves to earn their first away victory of the season and our first at Bolton since 1994.

The second rather selfish thought was that I nearly placed my £20 bet on a combination of Alex Rae scoring first and for Wolves to win 1-0, which was 150-1 and would have netted my £3,000.

And so when Lee Naylor helped Bolton to take a quick throw in, from which Kevin Davies subsequently scored, I felt a strange mix of disappointment and relief.

After the game had finished, I turned and realised that Sir Jack had been sitting three rows behind me in the Directors' Box.

I couldn't miss the opportunity and ambled across for a chat. I thanked him for all he had done for the club and we shared a laugh about me jumping up like a lunatic when Wolves scored.

Apart from not being able to sit with my own fans, it was a superb day and Bolton do the corporate thing extremely well.

After watching an Arsenal team with the likes of Vieira, Clichy, Hoyte, Wiltord, Aliadiere, Bentley, Kanu and a 16 year old Fabregas destroy us 5-1 in the Carling Cup at Highbury, it was off to Villa for some more of the same corporate blandness.

A nice meal and a load of suits in the corporate box who more interested in talking about their brand positioning, than whether Crouch deserved a start for Villa, or if Miller should have played instead of Sturridge.

Kennedy scored Wolves' 4,000th post-war league goal in a cracking game which saw Villa win 3-2.

Luzhny, one the worst Wolves players in living memory, started four Wolves games that season including this one and was by far the worst player on the pitch.

In the second half of my diary next Friday, I'll talk about the time I met Steven Gerrard and how I nearly got lynched at Elland Road.

Good luck to the boys on Saturday.

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