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SAM MORSHEAD: Pack the County Ground

SAM MORSHEAD: Pack the County Ground


Pack the County Ground.

Go on, I dare you. Pack it. Pack it full of young fans clad in red, who don’t know the misery of watching your team get relegated.

Pack it with generations who remember Don Rogers and John Trollope and Ossie and Glenn, and The Chief and Danny Invincibile’s worldy against Peterborough.

Pack it with those who grimaced at Charlie Austin’s Wembley bobble, laughed at Neil Ruddock’s shorts and idolised Lee Peacock’s coat.

Pack it. Go on. Just once more.

Pack it with colour and curiosity and cheer until you’re too hoarse to answer the phone on Monday morning.

Pack it with potato print replica shirts and tales of Andy King’s cigars, pack it with old farts mumbling something about Shaun Close, pack it with nightmares about Jason Drysdale.

Pack it. Go on, I dare you.

Pack it because you love it. Pack it because you used to love it. Pack it because somewhere, deep down, it still means more to you than you’d care to let on.

Remember what it’s like to be part of a community that loves their club. Remember what it’s like to have a club love you back because, finally, Swindon Town have remembered.

Let’s Pack The Town End for the visit of MK Dons

They’ve remembered that without their supporters they are nothing but a defunct business drifting towards the end. They’ve remembered that what they do on a Saturday afternoon tugs on the emotions of several thousand for the following seven days and beyond.

They’ve remembered. Praise god, Allah and Eric Sabin… they’ve remembered.

And, after all these months of negligence, they’ve acted. There’s unity between the local newspaper and the club for the first time in three years. There’s cohesion and collaboration… a collective effort to do whatever they can to prevent that dreaded outcome.

No one with an ounce of Swindon Town in their hearts wants to see the club drop into League Two – the elephant’s graveyard of the EFL.

No one wants that. Not the owner, not the manager, not the players and certainly not the fans.

Somehow – and four weeks ago an asylum ambulance would have been dispatched had you suggested this – survival is possible.

A win over MK Dons and, whisper it, it might become probable.

So let’s cut out the moaning and the groaning and the nay-saying for one more day. Let’s stick our differences in the dustbin for an afternoon, put our arms around the nearest fellow idiot in red and billow until we can’t billow any more.

Pack it. Go on, I dare you.

Pack the County Ground.


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