Wigan were the dog's bollocks.

Now they're just bollocks. Just ask Castleford .................

Weird...read this topic, thought for a bit and and hard a really vivid flashabck to WHELDON ROAD (proper name) with the steam rising up as the two packs went down (for a more than 10-15 second scrum) on a frosty winter night, mid-week div 1 game against Swinton.
I know we have a few cold games now but it used to be like that for months! Hard to imagine now, likewise seem to remember mid week games being a lot more regular?

I remember the day Widnes came to train on the field at the back of my house.

Whilst I certainly agree with euroboy that as a widnesian I wouldnt know good a rugby player if one slapped me in the face with a three eyed fish, I remember all the local lads being treated to Martin offiah, Sorensen and Davies lobbing it around, followed by legging it indoors to get my autograph book before they left.

That would be worth a lot of money if I could find it. Probably been thrown out by my Mum.

He was one dirty mo fo.

That's another thing that's been consigned to yesteryear - proper salt of the earth thugs (hardmen). Les Boyd & Paul Cullen. Kurt Sorensen and Joe Grima. Real hard b'stards.

Love it, did it hit him and can you remember which ref it was simply so I can say I hated that b'stard.

On the pitch at full time for players tie-ups.

When I got Kevin Ward's I genuinely felt I had the crown Jules in my possession.

I remember us playing Widnes in a cup match and poor Jiffy Davies had 20 ankle biters trying to rip his socks down to get his tie-ups

Sadly kids are more likely to get chased off the pitch by a fluorescent jacket wearing jobsworth these days than get close to their idols.

I will have been about 11/12 when I ran onto the pitch and got Colin Maskill's headband after an evening game in the late 80's

When I say headband though, it was actually blue masking tape. It had lost its sticky, had dirt and hair in it, and was a bit crushed

But guess what, I had that headband on my head as I packed down in the scrum for a schoolboys match a few days later! It kept slipping down my face and I'm sure any spectators must have thought it was a piece of litter that had found its way onto my face whilst I was being tackled or something

I must have looked a right w*nker!

Not quite in accordance with the rules, but here are two:

Memory of a match incident: Big Frank Collier bursting through from halfway for a certain try for Liverpool City (forgotten the opposition). Except that 20 yards (no bl..dy metres in those days) from the line, the elastic in his shorts gave way. Tragedy.

and the stuff you were really wanting: Helping my dad selling tea before matches. The tea bar was an ancient single-deck bus and the choice of tea was limited. It all came out of one big urn complete with sugar and milk. Did sell a cup to Ike Southward once though.

I just remember watching this blokes back throughout the whole match.

Quality! That's proper the sort of fan worship that you only really have as a nipper!
I can vividly remember thinking of RL players of any 'pro' club as being a good few steps above 'god-like' status...my old dear often reminds me of the time I stood litterally open mouthed when Lee Crooks walked passed us pushing his Mrs. trolley in ASDA!