I have fond memories of West Brom. On the pitch, yes, but also off the pitch. The day was September 5th, 1981. I was eleven years old and a massive supporter of my local team, Swansea City, who had just weeks earlier played their first match in the First Division after shocking everyone (myself included, I was on the terraces) in a 5-1 win against then mighty Leeds United.
Of course, I hadn’t asked my parents and I was caught in a trap where I wanted to go more than anything. I knew that if I asked my parents, there’s no way they would have let me go. So, instead, I lied.
The night before the away match, my friend gave me the gameplan. “Okay, we’ll pick you up from your house at 4:30 in the morning and we’ll then drive to Swansea to catch the supporter’s bus.”
Stupidly, I went to sleep that night without still having said anything to my parents. I slept through the night and was awoken at 8am by my furious parents who wanted to know why my best friend and his father were knocking on the door of our house waking everyone up (except for me, who was in a deep sleep dreaming about a trip to the Hawthorns probably).
Swansea ended up getting beat 4-1 against West Brom at the Hawthorns.