Day Out

Lapping it up with Denis, Darren and Channel 4 Racing

Kevin Wynn is a regular and much-valued contributor to the pages of Red Passion. Here he spends the day as a Racecourse VIP

After arriving back in Wrexham on the Friday before the Bury game, after another very tedious journey back from Lincoln, I listened to a cryptic message on my mobile from RP's own Peter Davies. Intrigued, I eventually spoke to him. He said RED PASSION would be the matchball sponsor at the Bury match and, more importantly, asked whether I would like to represent RP. Well, is the Pope a Catholic? 
Peter gave me all the details for the next day and ended the conversation by saying, 'Enjoy yourself'. I broke the good news 
to my dad and said he could come as my guest. He too is a lifelong fan and I knew he would be keen too. My brother, Phil, was a bit jealous. He tried to convince dad he shouldn't risk it. After receiving a knowing look from our dad, he knew he had more chance of winning the Lotto on Saturday night than talking my dad out of some free beer.

We arrived at the Racecourse at 12.30pm, parked up in the rather empty car park, and headed upstairs through the Centenary Club to meet up with Phil Sadler, who was to host us for the day. A glass of bubbly was thrust into our hands and we were shown to our personal table. We had the opportunity to enjoy our drinks while watching BBC1's Football Focus. One of the many lovely waitresses took our order for lunch and we were soon served up with a really nice meal. 

We could have had a bottle of wine but I had to drive to Harrogate after the game, while my dad is not so keen on 'that foreign stuff'. He is a beer or lager man. With all the booze flowing freely, I had been briefed by mother not to let him become a lager lout and embarrass himself. Although he is 69, he still enjoys a few beers. Not wishing to spoil his day, I decided three pints would be a good compromise! So the free beers were flowing, although I was now sipping water, and we had Channel 4 Racing on the box. All we needed now was a good game of football and it would be a really good day.

At about 2pm, Denis Smith came in to give a little pep talk to those present. His assessment of the game was spot-on. He said they had good forwards but their defence was slow and quite vulnerable. He thought that Dan Bennett, Steve Roberts and Shaun Pejic would be good enough to cope with what they could throw at us, and we had the players to edge what would be a close game. Unless Denis is psychic, he could not possibly have predicted what influence Carlos Edwards was to have on the game.

My dad had first watched Wrexham as a kid during World War II. Few people probably realise that in those dark days of 1945, Wrexham had won what was then the equivalent of the Premiership (Northern Division). Yes, little old Wrexham had beaten the likes of Man United, Liverpool and Everton to take the title. He had a copy of the match programme for our home game against Stoke City in that unique year. Dad also thinks quite highly of Denis Smith - he too wasn't a fan of Flynn's - and he wanted to present him with it. It was a nice thought and I think Denis appreciated it too. Denis recognised most of the Stoke players' names; indeed, many of them had been coaches when he had been there as an apprentice. 

We had to abandon the racing at 2.45pm as we were escorted downstairs to get ready for the walk- out on to the pitch. It was a bit like being at the theatre. A bell sounded at 2.54pm, when both teams trouped out of their changing-rooms and formed a reasonably orderly line. Each side performed their pre-match rituals, and then we all ambled out to entertain the crowd. We saw some idiot in a Wrexham top at the end of the players' tunnel, leaping around and waving a camera. It was my brother. He had somehow got permission to follow us out to ostensibly take some pictures. In reality, he had already used up all his film and was there simply because it was a good idea. We had our pictures taken with the usual pre-match gang in the centre circle, before heading back to the stand to take our seats in the Directors Box. 

My dad had hoped that Sir Alex would be there because he had a few ideas about how Sir Alex could tighten up his defence; but he was down at Charlton Athletic. Hope Sir Alex missing my dad's tips doesn't cause United to slip up again this year. Regardless, we cannot accept any responsibility for their failings!

Everything was going to plan. That chap Morrell couldn't stop scoring and we seemed destined to pick up another three points. Unfortunately, Carlos Edwards was to join in the Bury defence's game of kick-boxing by pushing the worst culprit away. Alas, the referee who, rather suspiciously, had a heavy Lancashire accent, failed to see anything except for the final push. So Carlos was destined for an early bath, while our remaining 10 players had another 45 minutes hard slog before the final whistle. It is always difficult defending when you are a player short. The Dragons eventually got a bit tired and then Paul Barrett had a case of colour-blindness. His deftly hit through-ball to a blue-shirted striker was seized upon, and it was 2-2. We were glad when the ref finally blew for time; after all, one point is better than none. 

Back in the bar, my dad had 'one for the road' before we had our picture taken with the Man of the Match, Darren Ferguson. I suppose we could have given Darren the top tip, to pass on to his dad. But we forgot. The excitement had gotten to us both - or was it the Carlsberg? - and we headed home. 

It had been a really enjoyable day, despite the disappointment of the sending off. Ah well, there is always next time. Indeed, dad is already saving up the £150 to sponsor the ball next season. Then, I shall organise it so there is no need to drive anywhere afterwards. I'll then be able to fully enjoy the excellent hospitality at the Racecourse. That's if Phil hasn't already bribed my dad for him to go, and, of course, if our mam will let us!