Drinking culture at stadiums

[wormus]

I too struggle with the fact that my bladder is fighting off my expanding prostate. Oh the joys of getting old

Hi MrG2 , Mightymouse and any male Tigers supporters suffering from bladder capacity ~ one in two or three out syndrome then PLEASE go and get yourself checked out by your Doctor - Yes insist on an appointment and a PSA test. I became aware by talking to a Tigers Steward's comments on regularity. Apparently one in eight men can get prostate cancer so do not delay. I was hopefully caught in time but many were not.

[Robespierre]

Just tie a knot in it

[jgriffin]

Thanks for the tip and apologies to all for turning this into a medical forum for the chronically aged‍🦳

What about the cold seats and piles, best handwarmers for arthritis, etc. Not even started yet!

[aslongaswebeatsaints]

I must admit to have been all types mentioned here. As a young un, it was first about doing a cool thing with my father, learning the old ways of nodding to all the regulars who were always around your personal railing. A kind of unspoken language. Dreams of rugby glory while eating a ketchup covered pie cannot be beaten as a memory. Though my young days were spent watching the other code that Kevin Sinfield knows a bit about.

It then seemed to merge into hanging out with mates. Beer first, watching rugby second. Or playing rugby first, then bath with beer, then beer, then more beer. Going to the toilet in the 80s wasn't an issue as the difference between the toilet and back of the wall wasn't always clear. Then off for a night on the town.

Then the start of courting; bringing a partner with you because it was a Quarter Final and her birthday and you couldn't miss either. If you liked her you made sure you where on the opposite side of the stadium to your mates as you'd committed the heinous crime of paying to sit down with the oldies. Moreover, you knew that drunken mates meeting civilised date is never going to end well. The only downside was trying to explain the rules to try impress her in a low enough voice to be heard by her, but not the 400 referees sat around you who seemed to know each law word for word, and wondered why the one ref on the pitch hadn't seen the multitude of sins in the scrum that only seemed to be instigated by the opposition. Drinking was simply part of settling the nerves on your part because everyone had told you she was way out of your league.

Then along came the family. Taking two toddlers to a game has a whole new challenge when you suddenly realise people have to go to the toilet without drinking beer. If your not quick enough Toddlers avoid the step of going to the toilet altogether. A time when you apologise to those around you more than any other other time. You have dreams of aforementioned toddler becoming a Tigers Legend and getting a free pass to the more elusive posh parts of the club. The toddler awards you by always wanting to go to the toilet at key game moments, running off without warning, spilling just about everything on those around (who politely smile in that sort of gritted teeth F off way), and then sleeping during the rest of the game. In this phase you see very little of the game itself while the wife says it was "your idea, your children" while drinking wine with her mother.

The toddlers turn into teenagers and increasingly come along "to make Dad feel better". You finally realise that daughters are probably never going to play for Leicester Tigers First XV in the near future. And spend the game complaining that they can't get Tik Tok in the ground. A sort of peace is made with bribes of food and pre game shopping. You wonder why you bother but its not all bad, one daughter starts enjoying watching the game again after discovering that watching the game to loud techno beat tracks is actually quite cool. On a good note they proclaim to their pals that they are lifelong Tigers fans, proved by their appreciation of the art of the scrum (proud dad moment). One of them because they got the opportunity to run on the pitch with the Captain in Tigers kit, a memory they frequently recall. The other because they loved the face painting in the Kids Club before the game and the free stickers. You realise they'll be back watching rugby someday with their friends when the wheel of life turns.

Then you and your wife, with occasional family reunions, find yourself coming to games without the kids out of habit and the familiar faces of those around. Conversations with fellow year-after-year season ticket holders having come a long way from the grunts of apology to friendship. The demands of attending the game are now different. In particular:

1. The cushion has become a necessity to protect the hemmaroids. Its moved from uncool, to fashion, to a simple necessity. You've tried many ways to keep it on the seat when you stand up and cheer, but none have worked.
2. You try to wait for a pee until half time, but it often doesn't work that way. The urge to pee seems to only come when Tigers are just short of the oppositions try line or the ground is rocking.
3. Tea and cake before a game has become just as good as a pint. Your even old enough to ask for a coffee in the pub.
4. All this obviously goes out of the window when you invite the lads. Though your now at the age where you wonder how beer has got so expensive and how it was much better in (insert appropriate decade).
5. You feign horror when :censored: lads from a visiting club create bedlam in your well trodden areas of your comfortable Season Ticket Haven, but you secretly wish you where in the middle of the group, albeit younger and without the need of a cushion.

Overall, I am by no ways as old and wise as some but am reaching an age where you realise that everyone is enjoying the game in different ways and the perceived bedlam of people is part of the tapestry that makes Welford Road such a real experience. I say, good for them and enjoy it for what it is.

[bendy]

I must admit to have been all types mentioned here. As a young un, it was first about doing a cool thing with my father,

[snip]

you realise that everyone is enjoying the game in different ways and the perceived bedlam of people is part of the tapestry that makes Welford Road such a real experience. I say, good for them and enjoy it for what it is.

Hear, hear.

[Crofty]

I must admit to have been all types mentioned here. As a young un, it was first about doing a cool thing with my father,

[snip]

you realise that everyone is enjoying the game in different ways and the perceived bedlam of people is part of the tapestry that makes Welford Road such a real experience. I say, good for them and enjoy it for what it is.

Hear, hear.

Sense, nuance and tolerance, on this forum!? Surely this cannot stand, harrumph!

Obvious joke is, I hope, obvious, definitely this is a view I can get well behind, just because someone else is having their fun differently to you doesn't make them wrong!

[TheChild]

I actually wish Tigers would take a leaf out of Twickenham’s book and stock an alcohol free lager option. When I’m at home I enjoy such thing while watching a game and I would love to enjoy one while at the match.
I cannot have soft drinks (diabetic and allergic to caffeine and certain sweeteners) and can’t have most of the hot drinks on offer for a similar reason. I get a bit fed up of water. I’m sure there’s others in the same boat. I can get an alcohol free beer at Nottingham- so why not at Tigers?

[LE18]

I must admit to have been all types mentioned here. As a young un, it was first about doing a cool thing with my father, learning the old ways of nodding to all the regulars who were always around your personal railing. A kind of unspoken language. Dreams of rugby glory while eating a ketchup covered pie cannot be beaten as a memory. Though my young days were spent watching the other code that Kevin Sinfield knows a bit about.

It then seemed to merge into hanging out with mates. Beer first, watching rugby second. Or playing rugby first, then bath with beer, then beer, then more beer. Going to the toilet in the 80s wasn't an issue as the difference between the toilet and back of the wall wasn't always clear. Then off for a night on the town.

Then the start of courting; bringing a partner with you because it was a Quarter Final and her birthday and you couldn't miss either. If you liked her you made sure you where on the opposite side of the stadium to your mates as you'd committed the heinous crime of paying to sit down with the oldies. Moreover, you knew that drunken mates meeting civilised date is never going to end well. The only downside was trying to explain the rules to try impress her in a low enough voice to be heard by her, but not the 400 referees sat around you who seemed to know each law word for word, and wondered why the one ref on the pitch hadn't seen the multitude of sins in the scrum that only seemed to be instigated by the opposition. Drinking was simply part of settling the nerves on your part because everyone had told you she was way out of your league.

Then along came the family. Taking two toddlers to a game has a whole new challenge when you suddenly realise people have to go to the toilet without drinking beer. If your not quick enough Toddlers avoid the step of going to the toilet altogether. A time when you apologise to those around you more than any other other time. You have dreams of aforementioned toddler becoming a Tigers Legend and getting a free pass to the more elusive posh parts of the club. The toddler awards you by always wanting to go to the toilet at key game moments, running off without warning, spilling just about everything on those around (who politely smile in that sort of gritted teeth F off way), and then sleeping during the rest of the game. In this phase you see very little of the game itself while the wife says it was "your idea, your children" while drinking wine with her mother.

The toddlers turn into teenagers and increasingly come along "to make Dad feel better". You finally realise that daughters are probably never going to play for Leicester Tigers First XV in the near future. And spend the game complaining that they can't get Tik Tok in the ground. A sort of peace is made with bribes of food and pre game shopping. You wonder why you bother but its not all bad, one daughter starts enjoying watching the game again after discovering that watching the game to loud techno beat tracks is actually quite cool. On a good note they proclaim to their pals that they are lifelong Tigers fans, proved by their appreciation of the art of the scrum (proud dad moment). One of them because they got the opportunity to run on the pitch with the Captain in Tigers kit, a memory they frequently recall. The other because they loved the face painting in the Kids Club before the game and the free stickers. You realise they'll be back watching rugby someday with their friends when the wheel of life turns.

Then you and your wife, with occasional family reunions, find yourself coming to games without the kids out of habit and the familiar faces of those around. Conversations with fellow year-after-year season ticket holders having come a long way from the grunts of apology to friendship. The demands of attending the game are now different. In particular:

1. The cushion has become a necessity to protect the hemmaroids. Its moved from uncool, to fashion, to a simple necessity. You've tried many ways to keep it on the seat when you stand up and cheer, but none have worked.
2. You try to wait for a pee until half time, but it often doesn't work that way. The urge to pee seems to only come when Tigers are just short of the oppositions try line or the ground is rocking.
3. Tea and cake before a game has become just as good as a pint. Your even old enough to ask for a coffee in the pub.
4. All this obviously goes out of the window when you invite the lads. Though your now at the age where you wonder how beer has got so expensive and how it was much better in (insert appropriate decade).
5. You feign horror when lads from a visiting club create bedlam in your well trodden areas of your comfortable Season Ticket Haven, but you secretly wish you where in the middle of the group, albeit younger and without the need of a cushion.

Overall, I am by no ways as old and wise as some but am reaching an age where you realise that everyone is enjoying the game in different ways and the perceived bedlam of people is part of the tapestry that makes Welford Road such a real experience. I say, good for them and enjoy it for what it is.

Wonderful, loved reading it, how true! Have you written any books?