๐๏ธ Tickets for our trip to Sheffield Wednesday in Sky Bet League One have now SOLD OUT!
Incredible support on the road once again ๐
#StockportCounty
The summer of 1976 was the last one Britain spent outdoors without a bottle, and nobody came home from it blistered.
Fifteen days over thirty degrees. The reservoirs cracked into plates. Standpipes on the pavement in Devon and the Welsh valleys, and a Minister for Drought appointed in August, three days before the rain came and made him look like a genius.
You were out at eight and in at dark. The playing field went the colour of a digestive and stayed that way till September. The tar on the road went soft enough to take a footprint and your mother shouted about it.
Ladybirds. Millions of them, on every windowsill, in your hair, in the Tizer.
Nobody owned sunscreen. There was a bottle of Ambre Solaire in the bathroom that smelled of coconut and belonged to your auntie, and it went on in Spain, once, for the first afternoon. The word factor had not arrived. If it had a number on it the number was two.
Shirts came off in the first week of June and did not go back on. The men on the site worked in vests and came home the colour of a saddle. Farmers cut the hay with their backs bare. The lifeguard at the lido was brown as a conker by July and nobody thought he was doing anything brave.
You went pink once, early on, and then you did not. Your skin did what skin did: it darkened, it thickened, and it was fine for the rest of the summer.
And the chip pan on the stove was full of lard. Beef dripping in the tin under the sink. Butter on everything. Rapeseed was a crop on a few thousand acres that nobody had thought to eat, and the oil in the cupboard, if there was any, was for the Sunday roast tin and lasted a year.
That was the summer. Every hour of daylight, no cream, no shade, and a country built out of animal fat.
Fifty years on, the same sun, half the exposure, factor fifty on the school run, and skin that blisters walking to the car.
The sun did not change. The cupboard did.
๐จโ๏ธ Marcus Kouam has signed a two-year contract with Acadรฉmico de Viseu, with an option for a third season.
The 18-year-old Cameroonian striker joins the Portuguese top-flight club from Stockport County.
@BrownlowJr@StockportCounty The difference is in the coaching style.
Challinor was purely stats based and never happy.
Lots of discord last season.
Itโs like having new signings all across the boardโฆ..UTFH๐
@SteelyHatter Mamadue never defeated we won the war
Mamadue we will support you forevermore
Mamadue
They could get past if they wanted to
Mamadue
Knowing your fate is to play in blue
Go go go go Mamadue ๐๐คท๐ปโโ๏ธ
@SteelyHatter Mamadue never defeated we won the war
Mamadue we will support you forevermore
Mamadue
They could get past if they wanted to
Mamadue
Knowing your fate is to play in blue
Go go go go Mamadue ๐๐คท๐ปโโ๏ธ
A message from Mamadou ๐
Join him at Edgeley Park tomorrow - tickets for our game against Wycombe Wanderers are available online now ๐ https://t.co/tB0TCePNDv
#StockportCounty