BLAME IT ON DAD

I have fond memories of my first football game; my dad took me down to the Shay to watch Halifax Town at the age of 7. My love affair with the game, and the Shaymen, started from there. Without that experience, I don’t think I would be in the position I am today, with my love of sport, pursuing a career in sports journalism.

Not only did Dad take me to my first ever football game in 2002, but I was dragged along to watch him play cricket every Saturday afternoon in the summer months. Mum did the match day teas and I sat and watched as he kept wicket exceedingly well, but batted rather abysmally. I grew up watching him play this game, fascinated by it. By the age of 10 or 11, my dad and I had bonded over our love of sport and even though I was still young, I knew I loved this world. It was probably a few years ago now when I decided I wanted to take my love of sports into my career. What better job is there for a sports fanatic than to be a journalist and report on all your favourite games alongside breaking sports news?

Halifax Town has been a big part of my life from that very first game where they were playing under Chris Wilder in the Conference. I’ll be honest; I don’t remember much, only that we were playing against the mighty Dagenham and Redbridge (I think)! I remember asking my dad why we were going to watch Halifax and not Leeds or Huddersfield. His reply was simple, because his father had refused to take him to watch United or Town on the grounds that he did not want to watch overpriced crap. I can’t say I’m not glad! My late grandpa used to take my dad to the Shay every Saturday afternoon when he was a boy, thus Dad grew up watching the Shaymen and in turn, so did I. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

From this moment on, I would go to the Shay every weekend with my two grandpas, my grandpa’s best friend; the late Ron Woolfenden (who became one of my favourite men in the world for bringing what seemed to be his very own sweet shop in his pocket to every game), and my dad. We would set off around 2pm to get there half an hour before kick off, giving us ample time to get a portion of chips, a hot cup of Bovril (I never understood my dad’s obsession with Bovril), two hot chocolates, a Mars Bar and a match day programme. We were fully prepared for the 90 minutes. We’d take our seat in the Skircoat Stand; just left of the half way line and we were set. Saturday was my favourite day of the week.

I remember crying when I couldn’t go to the play-off final in the 2005/06 season against Hereford United at Leicester’s ground. The whole crew was going, except me. I was in Silverstone watching my friend’s dad racing his F2 car and I almost cancelled on her because I wanted to go so much. It wasn’t to be, and my dad had to text me updates. I was 11 years old at Silverstone and all I cared about was the result of that game! Halifax were 2-1 up going into the last ten minutes, and it seemed like we would actually win it! Hereford scored and the game went into extra time. They scored again about twenty minutes into time added on and we were to miss out on a return to the Football League. I had never felt such a gutting feeling; I was so upset we hadn’t managed it. That was the first time I remember being so heart broken at a sporting result. Obviously we still stuck by our team, and the past ten years of supporting Halifax has been a rollercoaster to say the least!

One of the only moments possibly more heartbreaking than the play-off final was when the club went into liquidation in May of 2008. I didn’t know what to expect, the club that I’d grown up and loved was about to disappear. Luckily Halifax were given a lifeline, albeit under a new name (F.C Halifax Town) and in a new league, the Northern Premier League Division One North. It was a kick in the teeth, but at least we weren’t down and out. We struggled for a year or so but the team managed their first promotion in the 2009/10 season after Neil Aspin’s first season in charge, topping the table with 100 points. Five seasons and three promotions later, Halifax were finally back where they belonged, the Conference Premier. There are always ups and downs supporting the Shaymen, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Watching them is my earliest sporting memory and I have them to thank for my love of sport. I hope one day to see them back in the Football League where they deserve to be.

Not only did my dad take me to watch Halifax, but he introduced me to the sport of Rugby League when he took me to my first Wakefield Trinity Wildcats game. Cracking choice of teams, Dad! Joking; I mean, it’s not easy supporting Halifax and Wakefield but it makes it all that bit better when we do get some good fortune. Who’d want to be a glory supporter anyway?! It did take me a while to get the rules of rugby. I had watched Rugby Union on the TV but never League. I even questioned why they weren’t doing lineouts (I then learnt my lesson that they don’t have lineouts in Rugby League, obviously). It was this game against the Bradford Bulls on a cold Sunday afternoon when Rugby League became one of my favourite sports. We followed Wakefield home and away from this point onwards and I soon grasped the concept of no lineouts, the deal with scrums and what a forward pass was. Learning what the offside rule meant in rugby was another shock to the system as well!

In 2008, I experienced one of the best and worst moments supporting Wakefield. Similar to the playoff final with Halifax in 2006. Wakefield had made it to the semi final of the Challenge Cup for the first time in 29 years. The Challenge Cup is one of the most prestigious competitions in Rugby League. That was the best part. My friend Charlotte and I got tickets for the game; I even turned down a VIP trip to London to see Kylie Minogue (but that is another story) to go to the match. We painted our faces, made a banner and felt like little children at Christmas. We made the short trip to Doncaster on a sunny afternoon in July. I really thought we were going to do it, that we would end the game with a trip to Wembley to look forward to. We just had to beat Hull FC. I remember it being one of the most exciting games I had been to, I was on the edge of my seat the whole game. The final result was 24-32 and the dream was over. It was becoming a recurring theme, my teams losing in big games! Although it would be nice to see some victories more than once in a while, I have grown up watching both Halifax and Wakefield and they both have a special place in my heart. Wakefield’s stadium, the infamous Belle Vue, is a fifteen-minute walk from my dad’s house. It’s just down the road from Sandal Cricket Club – where he now plays cricket, and where I now actually enjoy spending my Summer Saturdays!

Before he played for Sandal, my dad used to play at Castleford Cricket Club, which is where my love for cricket blossomed! It wasn’t until I started scoring for Sandal that I fully understood the sport. I’d always just thought it was some men on a field hitting a ball then running in lines and occasionally someone stood on said field would maybe catch the ball. Dad first asked me to score for Sandal in a match against Sykehouse. I had no idea of the rules, regulations or how the scoring system worked, but still I was called to duty. It was a funny day, I got player’s names mixed up as I had no idea at that stage who was who and what was what. The lovely guy next to me who was scoring for the other side taught me well. In fact, from that day forward I became the First XI scorer and eventually turned into a pretty decent scorer, I’m now using colours and everything! One colour per bowler, etc. I now know the rules of cricket like the back of my hand, and I still haven’t been to a professional game!

I could ramble on forever, but that was a relatively short introduction to my love of sport and how my dream of being a sports journalist came about. But that’s it, blog post one done! There will be more posts to come, so if you enjoy reading ramblings about sports headlines and how the world of sport influences me then keep a track of my posts here!