My daughter yesterday presented me with the following, which she found whilst tidying her room.
It brought back memories, I had forgotten all about them.
"What is it?" I hear you ask, - well when I say "hear" I am speaking metaphorically, obviously you are miles away (unless you are the so far unlocated neighbour who keeps logging in to my unsecured wireless connection) - or unless of course you manage to say "What is it?" very very loudly.
It's an Old Codgers calling card.
Calling cards were very fashionable amongst "crews" with a passion for football violence, often left on the prostrate body of a victim so that he had the small satisfaction of knowing who it was that jumped him unexpectedly and beat the living daylights out of him.
But the Old Codgers were different.
They were not interested in violence, ( actually it was discussed regularly, I guess for "not interested" read "no longer capable"). Eating cakes was more their style. And although a few members were happy to indulge in a pint or two (or seven) to give them dutch courage before a "meet" (and scarily enough most of those were the women), most were happy with a good old cup of tea.
Most of the arrangements took place on that new fangled interweb thing. Unbeknown to them these discussions had been infiltrated by the Old Bill (or Young Bill as most referred to them). After one particular session of pre-match online bravado before a home tie against their biggest enemy P****mouth (well second biggest enemy, incontinence being the first), half of Hampshire Constabulary stood by red faced, realising that this time the Football Intelligence Unit had belied it's middle name as they watched a couple of dozen old ( and not so old) men and women tucking into croissants and cream cakes at a local patisserie.
They were very vocal at games, with a great repertoire of songs, which unfortunately tended to fade away early as few could remember all the words. They loved a good old knees up as well, although bringing the knees back down again proved difficult for some.
They often travelled to away games en masse , OAP Rail Cards and/or bus passes enabling cheap travel. They showed no fear of being in a strange town, their breakfast time "taking" of Debenhams Cafeteria in Manchester City Centre back innJanuary 2004 is still discussed in hushed tones today.
Calling cards were left in numerous locations, if anyone has found one I hope it has been treasured, these will be worth a fortune on the Antiques Roadshow one day. They also had a flag to rally behind, although that was last seen on the platform of Southampton Central as their train headed for P****mouth - remembering which train to catch and and to collect all ones belongings proved simply too difficult for some.
Nowadays the Old Codgers are like a sleeping giant, keeping their heads down and resting to avoid any further Police interest in their activities (being very easy to catch nowadays with a likelihood that any resulting sentence would effectively mean a life sentence), but eagerly awaiting the call. And with the "Yoof" currently filling their void, showing respect for no-one and being unable to sing a song with a proper tune, the Phoenix may be rising from the ashes sooner than expected.
Hello, Hello we are the Codgers Crew .........
It brought back memories, I had forgotten all about them.
"What is it?" I hear you ask, - well when I say "hear" I am speaking metaphorically, obviously you are miles away (unless you are the so far unlocated neighbour who keeps logging in to my unsecured wireless connection) - or unless of course you manage to say "What is it?" very very loudly.
It's an Old Codgers calling card.
Calling cards were very fashionable amongst "crews" with a passion for football violence, often left on the prostrate body of a victim so that he had the small satisfaction of knowing who it was that jumped him unexpectedly and beat the living daylights out of him.
But the Old Codgers were different.
They were not interested in violence, ( actually it was discussed regularly, I guess for "not interested" read "no longer capable"). Eating cakes was more their style. And although a few members were happy to indulge in a pint or two (or seven) to give them dutch courage before a "meet" (and scarily enough most of those were the women), most were happy with a good old cup of tea.
Most of the arrangements took place on that new fangled interweb thing. Unbeknown to them these discussions had been infiltrated by the Old Bill (or Young Bill as most referred to them). After one particular session of pre-match online bravado before a home tie against their biggest enemy P****mouth (well second biggest enemy, incontinence being the first), half of Hampshire Constabulary stood by red faced, realising that this time the Football Intelligence Unit had belied it's middle name as they watched a couple of dozen old ( and not so old) men and women tucking into croissants and cream cakes at a local patisserie.
They were very vocal at games, with a great repertoire of songs, which unfortunately tended to fade away early as few could remember all the words. They loved a good old knees up as well, although bringing the knees back down again proved difficult for some.
They often travelled to away games en masse , OAP Rail Cards and/or bus passes enabling cheap travel. They showed no fear of being in a strange town, their breakfast time "taking" of Debenhams Cafeteria in Manchester City Centre back innJanuary 2004 is still discussed in hushed tones today.
Calling cards were left in numerous locations, if anyone has found one I hope it has been treasured, these will be worth a fortune on the Antiques Roadshow one day. They also had a flag to rally behind, although that was last seen on the platform of Southampton Central as their train headed for P****mouth - remembering which train to catch and and to collect all ones belongings proved simply too difficult for some.
Nowadays the Old Codgers are like a sleeping giant, keeping their heads down and resting to avoid any further Police interest in their activities (being very easy to catch nowadays with a likelihood that any resulting sentence would effectively mean a life sentence), but eagerly awaiting the call. And with the "Yoof" currently filling their void, showing respect for no-one and being unable to sing a song with a proper tune, the Phoenix may be rising from the ashes sooner than expected.
Hello, Hello we are the Codgers Crew .........
Cheers, Wurzel, for bringing back happy memories of codgertime. However, it should be noted that the remnants (literally) of the Codger Crew are still meeting at the Patisserie before each home game and still partaking of the pre-match coffee and croissants, when in season.
ReplyDeleteAs for the calling cards, the last one I placed was in the cab of a plumber who had earned the right to such a unique and sought-after item. They are getting a bit scarce, so care must be taken with their distribution.
Somersaint says...............
ReplyDeleteShall I print some more for I have not fallen by the wayside nay nay thrice nay I have become a lurker.