EL PETIT GENI – pre order our BOJAN t-shirt

Posted on January 31st, 2015 by

Bojan tee best

DUCK pays homage to The Little Genius. We love him. You love him. He loves us. He’s simply mint at association football. He smiles a lot.

Go to the BUY section on this website.

Orders sent out week beginning 9/2/15


DUCK 12 OUT NOW!

Posted on January 15th, 2015 by

DUCK 12 OUT NOW!

CARDIFF 2002 PLAY-OFF SPECIAL

Gudjon Thordardson interview
Stokie recollections of THAT night at Ninian Park/the beamback at The Brit
Review of the 2001/02 season

Plus tons of absolutely brilliant articles from our superb contributors including:

New Year’s Revolution – why we should all cherish watching Stoke

Regret – 5 underrated players

Cradle to Grave

Our night in The Smoke – DUCK hits London

Noisy neighbours – two North-Eastern non-league teams, one huge rivalry

The two faces of January – Rob Doolan looks at the transfer window

4Midable – Adidas’ main man, Gary Aspden, and his 4 best bits of clobber

A Stokie is born – Ant Sutcliffe’s lovely homage to his first born

The very best Bunny – and a dear friend of my old man remembers past Potters sojourns

You. Love. Us. – a matchgoing Man United fan talks about going in the home ends at The Vic and The Brit

Super Sunday – no it’s not SKY.

Tweetment – Watching a game in 140 characters or less

Putting the Super in Super Jon – Jay Cotterill on SJW’s revival

…and tons more too!

Click on BUY on this website


DUCK COMPETITION

Posted on January 11th, 2015 by

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DUCK Competition

Win every single issue of DUCK we ever do and every piece of merchandise we ever do. Er, ever!!!!

HOW TO ENTER

1. Follow us on twitter (@DUCKmagstoke)

2. DM us the answer to the following:

– Click on our Infinities advert on this website – count how many brands beginning with the letter ‘P’ do they have on their website?

– How much are the Adidas Topanga trainers?

DM us both answers before February 1st

 

 


PRE-ORDER DUCK issue 12

Posted on January 6th, 2015 by

cardiff 6THE SECOND DIVISION PLAY-OFFS AT CARDIFF.....CARDIFF V STOKE CITY.....SOCCER Cardiff v Stoke 3

PRE-ORDER ISSUE 12

CARDIFF 2002 PLAY-OFF SPECIAL

Gudjon Thordardson interview

Stokie recollections of THAT night at Ninian Park/the beamback at The Brit

Review of the 2001/02 season

Plus tons of absolutely brilliant articles from our superb contributors including:

No shrinking violets – forthright views on the fairer sex at the match

New Year’s Revolution – why we should all cherish watching Stoke

Regret – 5 underrated players

Cradle to Grave

Our night in The Smoke – DUCK hits London

Noisy neighbours – two North-Eastern non-league teams, one huge rivalry

The two faces of January – Rob Doolan looks at the transfer window

4Midable – Adidas’ main man, Gary Aspden, and his 4 best bits of clobber

A Stokie is born – Ant Sutcliffe’s lovely homage to his first born

The very best Bunny – and a dear friend of my old man remembers past Potters sojourns

You. Love. Us. – a matchgoing Man United fan talks about going in the home ends at The Vic and The Brit

Super Sunday – no it’s not SKY.

Tweetment – Watching a game in 140 characters or less

Putting the Super in Super Jon – Jay Cotterill on SJW’s revival

…and tons more too!

Click on BUY on this website


DUCK BOBBLE HATS – ORDER BY MIDNIGHT 5TH JANUARY

Posted on January 4th, 2015 by

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MUST ORDER BY 23:59 MONDAY 5TH JANUARY

Get them at the store/shop on this website


25/5/2008

Posted on January 3rd, 2015 by

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DUCK subscriber Darren Norton doesn’t like what Premier League football has become. Here’s how he turned his back on his beloved Hull City

25th of May, 2008.

 

It probably doesn’t mean much to most of you, but for me it was the greatest day of my life. Hull City beat Bristol City in the Championship Play-off Final. A goal from hometown hero Dean Windass earned The Tigers a place in the top division for the first time in their 104 year history. I’m not ashamed to say I cried at the final whistle. This had been my childhood dream, not so much the promotion bit, more seeing City win at Wembley.

You see when I started watching in 1980, we were…well…crap. In fact until the turn of the century most Hull fans had only known bad times, poor teams, administration, lock outs….you name it, it happened. Then a move to a new stadium, backed by a new progressive owner, started a footballing revolution, that culminated less than 8 years later with the club reaching the land of milk and honey, the Premier League. Only this juggernaut left someone behind…..me.

I went about three times to the KC Stadium after that momentous day. I’d been slowly falling out of love with the beautiful game that season. Thirty pounds to sit in a soulless bowl, ordering tickets over the phone two weeks in advance, being forced to sit down by over officious stewards. The players earning more in a week than I made in a year. Correction, make that three years.

This wasn’t for me anymore. I’m old enough to remember the “good old days”, standing on a freezing, decrepit terrace, the sway of the crowd. Four quid to get in when I started going, and that was for the best seats. I’m not naïve enough to think that prices wouldn’t go up. Basic inflation dictates that prices rise. But ticket prices were going up far far in excess of inflation, and far far in excess of my disposable income. I had to make a stand, pardon the pun. That stand may involve me missing out on history being made, witnessing our inaugural season in the top flight, but the alternative was to purchase a season ticket – something I’d never needed before – and something I couldn’t financially justify.

If I did settle for a match day ticket, I’d be in a queue with the extra 10,000 fans we managed to attract that summer, my loyalty from the previous 28 years worth nothing. As it turned out, I didn’t bother. I resigned myself to not going again. After much soul searching, I decided to walk away.

So where to go for my football fix ?

I couldn’t not watch football. I wasn’t ready to walk around Asda every other Saturday with my better half. Step forward non-league football.

As a kid, when I wasn’t at Boothferry Park watching Hull City, I was down my local clubs, Bridlington Town and the now defunct Bridlington Trinity. This was real three men and a dog stuff. Not only did you know everyone in the crowd, you probably lived on the same street as the centre forward, had your milk delivered by the right back, or your older brother was mates with the talented midfielder. No multi-coloured boots, no expensive cars in the car park, no agents, and certainly no multi-million pound contracts. Now not for a minute am I deriding the modern game. The Premier League, with its lavish image and pampered superstars, playing to a worldwide audience. Good luck to ‘em, and anyone that still chooses to follow their team religiously around the country at great expense.

I know that feeling, the highs and the lows. Only now I do it for a fraction of the price, and gain just as much enjoyment, because I’ve re-discovered my love of football through non-league. It’s almost like I’ve gone full circle. As a 7 year old my first experience of watching live football was courtesy of my local teams. Nearly four decades later I’m immersed in grass roots football all over again. At the end of the day, football is football. It’s eleven v eleven. It’s competition. It’s sport. Ok, so some of the first touches might turn into a second, and sometimes a third. The passes might not have laser-precision. The headers might not carry as far. But the essence of football is there. The commitment to the cause, for a bit of petrol money, perhaps a win bonus, and a few beers in the clubhouse afterwards.

Anyone that questions these lads professionalism or lack of it, has clearly never left work early, to jump on a bus for a few hours, to then jump off and run around in the depths of winter,  have a luke-warm shower before heading off back home with a cheese sandwich and a handful of chips as there only sustenance. Getting home in the early hours and then back up again at 6 o’clock to go to work. No massages or ice baths and the rest of the afternoon off for these lads. And all that for the love of playing at the highest level they can achieve, usually witnessed by crowds barely in treble figures.

And this is where I now find myself. Huddled up on a terrace or even a roped off pitch. Sometimes I hand over a fiver for the privilege, sometimes a tenner. Another couple of quid goes on a raffle ticket or Golden Goal ticket. At this level, every penny counts. Every penny helps pay for officials, or helps towards the cost of producing a programme and printing team sheets. Very little of the money ends up in the players pockets. A far cry from the professional game, where most of the clubs in the top two divisions pay out wages way above their income.

A match day ticket at Hull this season for a Category A game – how I hate the grading of matches – will set you back £50. At my local club, you could watch ten games for that. Virtually a full non-league season for the price of two Premier League fixtures. Staggering.

Slowly but surely more people are turning their backs on top flight football and getting their kicks in Non-league. Certainly the next generation of football supporters are being priced out of ever attending a top league game. Perhaps their first induction will be a similar path to the one I took over thirty years ago. Hopefully they will hang around and support what is on their doorstep, at their local club. The game is out there; it will always be out there, so go out and support it. Be loud and proud of what Non-league has to offer.

DARREN NORTON