Historien om Wrexham og Geraint Nott
Wrexham? But they’re rubbish!
When I was growing up, my hero was Ian Rush. The Welsh striker famous for allegedly telling the press that playing for Juventus in Italy was like “living in a foreign country”, scoring almost 350 goals for Liverpool and beginning his career at Chester City. You’re probably thinking, “why is the writer of this article talking about a former Chester and Liverpool player in article about Wrexham AFC?”.
Well if it wasn’t for Ian Rush, I probably wouldn’t support Wrexham.
Like most kids growing up in the 1980’s, and currently roughly around 250,000 Danes, I supported Liverpool. I watched Match of the Day on the BBC just to see Rush, Dalglish and Jan Mølby despite my mother’s insistence on going to bed before 10pm. Aged 7, after seeing Ian Rush demolish Everton in the 1986 FA Cup final, I begged and pleaded with my Dad to take me to Anfield for a game, any game!
Worried about bad language, cost of tickets, and the violence plaguing football at the time, my dad was reluctant. To be fair, I was a very skinny kid, so I’d have been useless in a fight with those hooligans creating headlines in the news.
Undeterred however, I started washing his car, mowing the lawn, and trying my best in school; I did all that I could to try and convince him to take me to a football match, although looking back that does sound like the plot to Karate Kid, so maybe I could have won the odd street fight after all?
Finally, after much pestering and almost stripping the paint from the black Vauxhall(the UK version of Opel) Cavalier I hoped would take me to Merseyside one day, my Dad announced that we would go and see a football game together.
“Liverpool?” I exclaimed, spraying half eaten cereal all over my older sister who had no interest in football.
“No, Wrexham!” he replied.
“Huh? Wrexham? But they’re rubbish!” I complained.
We went anyway. I was 7, so I didn’t really have much choice… or a busy calendar other than watching cartoons and annoying my sister.
You can never predict football. No one would have expected Wrexham to beat Arsenal in 1992, or for Denmark to become European Champions, also in 1992… (note to self, if I ever find a way to travel back in time, 1992 is the year where lots of money can be made with a couple of strategically placed bets!) but my Dad must have known that this was THE game for me to begin my love affair with the then ‘Robins’ of Wrexham.
October 11 th 1986. Wrexham vs Cardiff City. A Welsh derby. Wrexham won 5-1, we scored a penalty and Cardiff had a player sent off. I was in love. This was football. I was hooked and couldn’t wait to go back. Wrexham went on an long unbeaten run, including taking Spanish giants Real Zaragoza to extra time in the European Cup Winner’s Cup, losing on the away goals rule. It was obvious, Wrexham needed me. I was their lucky mascot. Wrexham finished the season just outside the play-off zone
much to everyone’s disappointment. It was too late though, I was all in. I was a Liverpool fan no longer. It was all about Wrexham. It paid off eventually when my hero Ian Rush joined Wrexham on a free transfer in 1998, unfortunately I didn’t get to see him score as for some reason Wrexham played one of the deadliest strikers in the history of the game in midfield. As I learned over the years Wrexham will always find a way of surprising you!
Away from home After leaving university in 2001, life took me to Cardiff for work, but I tried to get back to North Wales as often as I could. Getting tickets back then was not an issue, so it was a very relaxed affair. I could join my dad in the brand new Mold Road Stand, after years of standing in the old Paddock on the opposite side.
Four years later, I was able to walk home from the Millenium Stadium in Cardiff, after watching us defeat a then League 1 Southend United in the ‘LDV Vans Trophy’. Football was fun, especially watching the Trinidiadian Trio, Fergie boss the midfield and ‘cue ball’ Kevin Russell scoring screamers against Premier League opposition. I also had the dilemma of trying to pick my new hero from between Lee Trundle and Andy Morrell. Being a Wrexham fan was once again something to be proud of.
Sadly football was about to become very ‘not fun’. In fact, even before all the smiles at the home of Welsh rugby, Wrexham fans had been at odds with the new owners since 2002. The on-field success masked the actions of the devious owners, sowing the seeds of decline, culminating in relegation from the Football League in 2008. Only the actions of a few Wrexham fans who take the meaning of ‘hero’ to a whole new level, saved us from becoming a footnote in the history books and the historic Racecourse ground a car park for a home improvement store which by now would probably be more reminiscent of a zombie movie set. By then though I wasn’t going home very often, and other things in my life took my attention away from football as a whole. I was the very definition of a ‘fair weather’ fan. I still went to the odd game, especially games like Newport County as it was one train journey away, but results didn’t affect my emotions like they used to. It’s difficult to get excited over players like Christian Smith and Matthew Wolfenden helping us scrape a goalless draw away at Histon.
Looking back now, I feel embarrassed to admit this, but I sort of stopped caring.
Until 2011 that is. Wrexham AFC was in trouble. The Football Conference wanted the club to provide a bond to prove that it could fulfil it’s commitment to the season. Some people say it takes a near death experience to make you realise how important life is, the same can be said for waking up one summer morning to read the football club that gave you so much pride and enjoyment was about to be shut down for good. I was one of many fans who scraped together £127000 in one day, and therefore saving the club from oblivion. I joined the Supporters Trust and contributed financially each month, to ensure I had a football team to support; a sort of ‘football insurance’ if you will. And, whilst the football team weren’t quite able to do it on the pitch I could carry on living 225km away calmly knowing that they would at least always be there in some form.
I was doing my bit to keep Wrexham alive, my dad kept renewing his season ticket and I would attend the odd game at Christmas.
A terrible decision – en dårlig beslutning
In 2018 I moved to Copenhagen for work. Wrexham were fine. Failing to reach the play offs in the National League again after losing manager Dean Keates to Walsall, but we were fine. I could happily move countries knowing my Dad was able to enjoy his retirement watching his local team. I also told myself that I wouldn’t exactly miss the quality of football on display and thanks to Youtube I could simply watch the ‘highlights’ without having to endure more ‘Keatesball’.
Life was great, a new city to explore, people to meet, FC Copenhagen for some reason kept getting drawn against Welsh clubs in the Champions League qualifying rounds. There was plenty to keep me from missing football at the now fan owned Racecourse Ground. I could go back to being a fair weather supporter, still able to buy tickets with ease whenever I was back in North Wales.
The recent pandemic was a strange time for everyone. 2020 has to go down on record as the strangest year in the recent history of strange years, at least until 2021 I suppose. Animals starting reclaiming spaces that humans no longer gathered in due to Covid restrictions, Elon Musk named his child ‘X Æ A-12’, and Britain decided to leave the EU without a deal or plan… the list is huge. However, in September 2020, supporters Trust members were invited to a Special General Meeting after being approached by ‘two extremely well known individuals of high net worth’ who wished to purchase the
club. Things would never be the same again.
I had moved countries knowing I could always go back and see Wrexham if I wanted to, but there was no urgent need to. I wasn’t sad for missing the likes of Chris Holroyd, Paul Rutherford or Jazzi Barnum- Bobb (my spell checker isn’t a big fan of his either it seems).
Suddenly thanks to an actor from ‘It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia’ and that guy from ‘Just Friends’ I had the biggest FOMO (fear of missing out) in my life. In one short Zoom call my decision to move to one of the happiest countries on Earth seemed like a terrible decision after all. A documentary, investment in the team and stadium, and the promise to beat Chester if we ever played them again, made Wrexham famous again.
Not just in my own living room, they were all over the news. Even here in Denmark articles were being written in the most popular newspapers and long term Danish Wrexham fans were being interviewed by bemused morning television presenters. Why couldn’t this
have happened 15 years ago? Why now? Why did they do this to me?! Me, the reason Wrexham went on a 14 game unbeaten run in 1986! Who put his hand in his pocket when the club needed help!
Who wore the shirt to the gym even when we finishing just above the National League relegation zone! It was so unfair. That is until I began seeing the faces in the news and the hope it was bringing back to the soon to be city. I realised something I had forgotten, that Wrexham deserves the joy and excitement the new era was going to bring. After all these years, Wrexham, it’s people, and the whole region was finally going to get the levelling up the UK government had snatched away from them in the last many decades. I wanted to be a part of it again, not because I’m a fair-weather fan, or I wanted to be in the documentary, but because I wanted to help the club celebrate this opportunity
and show the cynics that Rob, Ryan, Humphrey et al were 100% correct in choosing our historic club.
Realising that SAS flew direct to Manchester, and being in financial trouble following the pandemic, I hoped I could buy some sort of cheap flight subscription to allow me to get back to North Wales regularly once restrictions were lifted. I even looked in paying someone to fly me from Copenhagen to Broughton airfield in a Cessna light aircraft. Sadly my high Danish salary was mostly being spend on taxes, pastries and rent, so all those hours on Flight Simulator were wasted.
Thankfully, thanks to Ryan Reynolds and Rob McElhenney and their global appeal I was able to benefit from their decision to broadcast the weekend games live on the internet. Unlike my Dad and friends who switched from supporting the freefalling Everton to become Wrexham fans, I was able to watch every single game from the comfort of my own home; confusing my neighbours and scaring my
girlfriend by going crazy when we score. It’s not the same as being there in person, but it is
something. It also allowed me to find affinity with the new internation fans the documentary brought in, as I watch from afar, keeping up to date with events via the Red Passion forums. I still wear my Wrexham shirts to the gym, but now finally getting the odd thumbs up from Danes who have a Disney+ subscription.
These days my hero goes by the name of Paul Mullin, and I now have to convince my Danish girlfriend that I can afford to fly back to Wales twice in a month. Thankfully I don’t need to clean the car or mow the grass in the back garden, partly because we don’t own either of those things living in the city of Copenhagen, but mostly because she, like a growing number of Danish football fans, is also excited about Wrexham. Which is incredible to imagine considering the only football player she knew before
meeting me was Jan Mølby.
(above) Just look at his face! 15 years of indifference, pain and frustration all being released by a Paul Mullin promotion winning goal.