Saturday night, I was sat on the tube travelling home from Kings Cross, after having the privilege of seeing Newcastle beat Arsenal.
The man opposite, leant over and grabbed what looked like a discarded football programme on the seat next to me. It was in fact a programme from the England v New Zealand Rugby Union game played earlier that day.
I have mentioned before in previous articles, my obsession with keeping ticket stubs, football programmes and any other memorabilia I could get my hands on.
When I was a kid, getting a programme for the game was essential.
The first ones I bought, the graphics had three circular pictures superimposed on a larger image on the front cover, like some 1970s style wallpaper. There was the usual waffle, spot the ball and a crossword. There was also the action photos from the previous games.
Absolute rubbish looking back, but something to occupy you for a few minutes at half time, then to browse over at home before it joined the growing collection.
Away programmes were even worse but you would still buy them.
In more recent times, on a train back from Southampton (a lively journey to say the least), a complete stranger struck up a conversation with my young lad who must have been eight or nine years old at the time, saw him reading the programme and said ‘sign it make it yours.’
I have never signed a programme, though I did buy a signed one from a young whippersnapper outside St James’ Park at well over the asking price (Signed by Kevin Keegan in case you don’t recognise it).
So what is the big deal about football programmes?
As a youngster, I had a massive collection of them and then later Sounds and NME music newspapers/magazines.
This progressed to football fanzines, the DIY alternative to the sanitised football programmes (and alternative music fanzines), but I also had the first edition of the lads mag Loaded and many more piled up on top of my copies of the Face.
All digested but not disposed of.
This all combined with my vinyl collection of albums and 45s.
My obsessive collection of physical media disappeared a few years back when my Mam died and there was a house clearance.
My ticket stubs and a few prized pieces I had held onto, such as the programme above.
This weekend I had tickets for the Arsenal game on my phone. After the game there will be no physical evidence that we were there, as the ticket is digital and has now joined the expired passes.
My son was a bit miffed to say the least when I forgot to buy a match programme v Arsenal on Saturday. Seems the obsession is not just me.
My get out clause? He didn’t remind me and surely he can access a digital version now?
Saturday night, I was sat on the tube travelling home from Kings Cross, after having the privilege of seeing Newcastle beat Arsenal.
The man opposite, leant over and grabbed what looked like a discarded football programme on the seat next to me. It was in fact a programme from the England v New Zealand Rugby Union game played earlier that day.
I have mentioned before in previous articles, my obsession with keeping ticket stubs, football programmes and any other memorabilia I could get my hands on.
When I was a kid, getting a programme for the game was essential.
The first ones I bought, the graphics had three circular pictures superimposed on a larger image on the front cover, like some 1970s style wallpaper. There was the usual waffle, spot the ball and a crossword. There was also the action photos from the previous games.
Absolute rubbish looking back, but something to occupy you for a few minutes at half time, then to browse over at home before it joined the growing collection.
Away programmes were even worse but you would still buy them.
In more recent times, on a train back from Southampton (a lively journey to say the least), a complete stranger struck up a conversation with my young lad who must have been eight or nine years old at the time, saw him reading the programme and said ‘sign it make it yours.’
I have never signed a programme, though I did buy a signed one from a young whippersnapper outside St James’ Park at well over the asking price (Signed by Kevin Keegan in case you don’t recognise it).
So what is the big deal about football programmes?
As a youngster, I had a massive collection of them and then later Sounds and NME music newspapers/magazines.
This progressed to football fanzines, the DIY alternative to the sanitised football programmes (and alternative music fanzines), but I also had the first edition of the lads mag Loaded and many more piled up on top of my copies of the Face.
All digested but not disposed of.
This all combined with my vinyl collection of albums and 45s.
My obsessive collection of physical media disappeared a few years back when my Mam died and there was a house clearance.
My ticket stubs and a few prized pieces I had held onto, such as the programme above.
This weekend I had tickets for the Arsenal game on my phone. After the game there will be no physical evidence that we were there, as the ticket is digital and has now joined the expired passes.
My son was a bit miffed to say the least when I forgot to buy a match programme v Arsenal on Saturday. Seems the obsession is not just me.
My get out clause? He didn’t remind me and surely he can access a digital version now?
Saturday night, I was sat on the tube travelling home from Kings Cross, after having the privilege of seeing Newcastle beat Arsenal.
The man opposite, leant over and grabbed what looked like a discarded football programme on the seat next to me. It was in fact a programme from the England v New Zealand Rugby Union game played earlier that day.
I have mentioned before in previous articles, my obsession with keeping ticket stubs, football programmes and any other memorabilia I could get my hands on.
When I was a kid, getting a programme for the game was essential.
The first ones I bought, the graphics had three circular pictures superimposed on a larger image on the front cover, like some 1970s style wallpaper. There was the usual waffle, spot the ball and a crossword. There was also the action photos from the previous games.
Absolute rubbish looking back, but something to occupy you for a few minutes at half time, then to browse over at home before it joined the growing collection.
Away programmes were even worse but you would still buy them.
In more recent times, on a train back from Southampton (a lively journey to say the least), a complete stranger struck up a conversation with my young lad who must have been eight or nine years old at the time, saw him reading the programme and said ‘sign it make it yours.’
I have never signed a programme, though I did buy a signed one from a young whippersnapper outside St James’ Park at well over the asking price (Signed by Kevin Keegan in case you don’t recognise it).
So what is the big deal about football programmes?
As a youngster, I had a massive collection of them and then later Sounds and NME music newspapers/magazines.
This progressed to football fanzines, the DIY alternative to the sanitised football programmes (and alternative music fanzines), but I also had the first edition of the lads mag Loaded and many more piled up on top of my copies of the Face.
All digested but not disposed of.
This all combined with my vinyl collection of albums and 45s.
My obsessive collection of physical media disappeared a few years back when my Mam died and there was a house clearance.
My ticket stubs and a few prized pieces I had held onto, such as the programme above.
This weekend I had tickets for the Arsenal game on my phone. After the game there will be no physical evidence that we were there, as the ticket is digital and has now joined the expired passes.
My son was a bit miffed to say the least when I forgot to buy a match programme v Arsenal on Saturday. Seems the obsession is not just me.
My get out clause? He didn’t remind me and surely he can access a digital version now?
Saturday night, I was sat on the tube travelling home from Kings Cross, after having the privilege of seeing Newcastle beat Arsenal.
The man opposite, leant over and grabbed what looked like a discarded football programme on the seat next to me. It was in fact a programme from the England v New Zealand Rugby Union game played earlier that day.
I have mentioned before in previous articles, my obsession with keeping ticket stubs, football programmes and any other memorabilia I could get my hands on.
When I was a kid, getting a programme for the game was essential.
The first ones I bought, the graphics had three circular pictures superimposed on a larger image on the front cover, like some 1970s style wallpaper. There was the usual waffle, spot the ball and a crossword. There was also the action photos from the previous games.
Absolute rubbish looking back, but something to occupy you for a few minutes at half time, then to browse over at home before it joined the growing collection.
Away programmes were even worse but you would still buy them.
In more recent times, on a train back from Southampton (a lively journey to say the least), a complete stranger struck up a conversation with my young lad who must have been eight or nine years old at the time, saw him reading the programme and said ‘sign it make it yours.’
I have never signed a programme, though I did buy a signed one from a young whippersnapper outside St James’ Park at well over the asking price (Signed by Kevin Keegan in case you don’t recognise it).
So what is the big deal about football programmes?
As a youngster, I had a massive collection of them and then later Sounds and NME music newspapers/magazines.
This progressed to football fanzines, the DIY alternative to the sanitised football programmes (and alternative music fanzines), but I also had the first edition of the lads mag Loaded and many more piled up on top of my copies of the Face.
All digested but not disposed of.
This all combined with my vinyl collection of albums and 45s.
My obsessive collection of physical media disappeared a few years back when my Mam died and there was a house clearance.
My ticket stubs and a few prized pieces I had held onto, such as the programme above.
This weekend I had tickets for the Arsenal game on my phone. After the game there will be no physical evidence that we were there, as the ticket is digital and has now joined the expired passes.
My son was a bit miffed to say the least when I forgot to buy a match programme v Arsenal on Saturday. Seems the obsession is not just me.
My get out clause? He didn’t remind me and surely he can access a digital version now?
