BeestonKatz1
A. Trialist
Picture a time if you can, a long time ago when Derby County were showing aspirations well above their standing. When they thought that they were a half decent side.
They were midway through building Pride Park or rather the construction company Taylor Woodrow were. Jim Smith couldn't build a midfield so he'd have no hope of following the instructions on a brand new flat pack stadium. Pride Park was a staggering folly given how truly dreadful Derby were (are!)
I had been in Derby on a night out with a few mates to see some band that i can't remember the name of, it was around Christmas/New Year time 1996. We'd stayed for one drink too many in some pub and spent way too long in a chip shop queue and ended up missing the last train home to Nottingham.
We jumped into a cab outside the station, the driver quite rightly demanding payment up front from a car full of Forest fans heading home, and were only a couple of minutes into the journey when i needed a pee. Badly. There was no way i'd make it all the way back home so i told the driver to pull over in an industrial area just outside the city centre.
I ran over to some railings and got my fly undone just in time. As i stood there peeing up the railings it dawned on me exactly where we were. The taxi driver had used a cut through from the station to the A52 and I'd been peeing on the railings outside the new site of the half built Pride Park, concrete everywhere, stands starting to take shape. Massive. Almost impressive.
I couldn't let an opportunity like this go unanswered so i climbed the fence and made my way through the site of what is now the North Stand. There were hundreds of load bearing piles for the stands in place but they had no flesh on their bones so it was easy to make my way out to the middle and lining up the corners of the stands, to find roughly where the centre circle would be in the months to come.
It was here that i dropped my jeans, squatted down and took an absolutely huge poo. I used a sock to wipe my backside and legged it back to the cab in a state of uncontrollable laughter.
I remember seeing some footage on the telly the following summer of the first game to be played there (some Italian team rolled over them for an easy win i think) and nearly wetting myself again at the sight of loads of ex-Derby players all stood solemnly around where my steaming pile of poo had been just six months earlier and it still makes me smile every time i see a kick off being taken there.
You Reds!
They were midway through building Pride Park or rather the construction company Taylor Woodrow were. Jim Smith couldn't build a midfield so he'd have no hope of following the instructions on a brand new flat pack stadium. Pride Park was a staggering folly given how truly dreadful Derby were (are!)
I had been in Derby on a night out with a few mates to see some band that i can't remember the name of, it was around Christmas/New Year time 1996. We'd stayed for one drink too many in some pub and spent way too long in a chip shop queue and ended up missing the last train home to Nottingham.
We jumped into a cab outside the station, the driver quite rightly demanding payment up front from a car full of Forest fans heading home, and were only a couple of minutes into the journey when i needed a pee. Badly. There was no way i'd make it all the way back home so i told the driver to pull over in an industrial area just outside the city centre.
I ran over to some railings and got my fly undone just in time. As i stood there peeing up the railings it dawned on me exactly where we were. The taxi driver had used a cut through from the station to the A52 and I'd been peeing on the railings outside the new site of the half built Pride Park, concrete everywhere, stands starting to take shape. Massive. Almost impressive.
I couldn't let an opportunity like this go unanswered so i climbed the fence and made my way through the site of what is now the North Stand. There were hundreds of load bearing piles for the stands in place but they had no flesh on their bones so it was easy to make my way out to the middle and lining up the corners of the stands, to find roughly where the centre circle would be in the months to come.
It was here that i dropped my jeans, squatted down and took an absolutely huge poo. I used a sock to wipe my backside and legged it back to the cab in a state of uncontrollable laughter.
I remember seeing some footage on the telly the following summer of the first game to be played there (some Italian team rolled over them for an easy win i think) and nearly wetting myself again at the sight of loads of ex-Derby players all stood solemnly around where my steaming pile of poo had been just six months earlier and it still makes me smile every time i see a kick off being taken there.
You Reds!
What a charming tale! 
)
