Who's the Daddy: Warm welcome back to fans

Some days are just glorious, like beating the league leaders at home, in front of a record crowd, in golden sunshine on a bank holiday weekend.
Who is the DaddyWho is the Daddy
Who is the Daddy

Being part of the crowd at Morecambe’s 1-0 win over Sheffield Wednesday last Saturday made you realise why you fell in love with football in the first place – and just how much the sport has missed its fans. And not just for their ticket money.

We got into the ground a few moments before kick-off, walking through the turnstile just yards from the halfway line to be met by two noisy sets of supporters behind each goal, a pristine rectangle of sun-kissed turf and the players primed and ready for action. Is this what heaven looks like, because it certainly felt like it?

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Speaking of sunshine, because of the heat it was at times a struggle for us just to stand and watch, goodness knows what it was like for the players to charge around in for an hour-and-a-half, although pre-season training during a brutal heatwave might’ve given them a taste.

Morecambe often train at the sports centre where I go spinning twice a week, and one mid-July morning with the temperature already pushing 30C, the coaches were laying out cones and hurdles on the pitch ready for what looked like a gruelling session of lung-bursting shuttle runs.

You can generally tell when footballers report for training for the new season without even checking the kitchen calendar – it’s the hottest day of the year. Lancaster does its finest Lanzarote impression.

Whatever physical torture Morecambe’s players went through on that hot, sweaty day – and a few more like that one – worked as they looked fit as butcher’s dogs from kick-off to final whistle.

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And while we’re on the subject, spare a thought for the two hardy souls dressed as mascots: Christie the Cat and sponsor Mazuma’s giant mobile phone walking laps of the pitch and waving to the crowd in searing heat.

Those head-to-toe suits may well be toasty in December, but must’ve felt like they were melting in their own personal sauna on a baking August afternoon.