Bilston Town V Willenhall – John Martyn Memorial Trophy.



An Evening with Matt Murray – Thursday 12 March 2015‏

Another Darlaston Town fundraiser for all of you football fans to consider, details as follows:

In conjunction with former Wolves, England Under 21 Goalkeeper and Sky Sports presenter Matt Murray, Darlaston Town (1874) FC are holding a special “Evening with Matt Murray”. Matt will answer all your questions on all matters Wolves as well as giving you a glimpse into the world which is Sky Sports.

The evening will be held at Bentley Leisure Pavilion, Bentley Road North, Bentley Walsall WS2 0EA on Thursday 12 March 2015 at 7.30pm. profits will be shared between Darlaston Town (1874) FC and a Charity of Matt’s choice. Tickets to include food are £10 each. This is not a Sportsman’s Evening but an intimate evening of chat and Questions and Answers with Matt and your chance to meet the man and have a chat with him.

This is a very rare event as Matt hardly does any of these events but his growing reputation as an excellent and articulate presenter guarantee a very interesting and informative evening. There are only 100 tickets available and these are on a first come first served basis. You can book a table of 10 but due to the limited availability of tickets and the fact that profits are being shared with a charity I am sorry but there will be no discount available on this occasion.

To reserve your tickets please drop me an email (chambers568 (at) with the number you require and I will let you know payment details. 


Neil Chambers

(Darlaston Town FC)

Back in the eighties.

Tonight has been another night lost on the internet, apart from the ten pm break to watch Drunk History on Comedy Central which is a show that is neither brilliant or shit, its just made for Dave in five years time, but is also new now, but feels like it should be dated, so I will watch it again… on Dave… in five years time, so….

Tonight I’ve been exercising my brain on how I can remove a TMD file from my budget, Asda purchased, Lifetab (the king of tablets in Kazakhstan) onto my PC and view it. It’s a word-type file that I produced on it, fully expecting it to just work on my PC because I failed to care about the programme I was using to write on and its compatibility with the normal world in which we all live in. As of writing this I have yet to decipher my problem. But who cares. No-one, but I do so…

I took to YouTube looking for an answer and just ended up getting lost in video after video of nostalgia and memories as video after video appeared in my “did you mean” section about Sinclair Spectrums, Amstrads and Atari’s and suddenly I was just watching stuff I did as a kid, play basic computer games. And it got me thinking, which is an effort at the best of times, but still nostalgia is so…

It transported me back to a time in the 1980s when, as a child in a pre-internet, pre-electronic world, I’d received a computer for Christmas. I can’t remember the exact time but it might have been… 1987. Maybe 1986. Semantics, it effects not anything.


Santa had left me an Atari 800XL with its amazing keyboard, yeah they were amazing in the 80’s (5 silver, stand alone function keys on the right hand side, awesome), its Atari tape cassette recorder/player, (yes RECORDER SLASH PLAYER eat that 1987 noobs), and games that included Kenny Dalglish Soccer Manager, Grand Prix Simulator, Draconus (which I drew a complete map for with every single detail on it, I wish I still had it; it was a work of fucking art), Dizzy Dice and my personal favourite, Zorro.


At the time I thought nothing could top QBert and Centipede on the 2600 but I stayed loyal to the Atari brand as I wasn’t asking for or neither purchasing the consoles. I was just a kid of 1987 born in the 70s man.

I was spending hours typing code from Atari ST Review into long strings of data so I could have a computer game at the end of it. And I did. Back then the 1980’s was a simpler time, a more decent time, a more accessible time, for gamers.

And yet writing this, as a distraction, hasn’t cured my need for a TMD file reader.

But it doesn’t matter.

I can live with a re-write, even if it takes me weeks. (It wasn’t that much stuff! I moan for nothing!)

It’s just bloody annoying!

But its nice to dance down gaming memory lane. A lane long forgotten but so fondly remembered.


P.S. 20-Jan-2014 post update: I’ve found a reader for TMD files that can be used on PC’s, phew!


The death of Sir Jack Hayward is a very sad moment. The man was the saviour of the football team that has given me so many years of pleasure, some highs, more lows but a love that has spent more than a few moments of my day in mind, every day, for the last twenty five years. Its easy to forget, when you have an interest in something like football, what makes it all happen, who’s making the decisions and more importantly why does my club even exist. Does any fan ask that? Maybe they should.

I’m not going to rake over the history of Wolverhampton Wanderers because I doubt very few people who may read this will be unaware of it but it can be said with more honesty and truth than many statements you will read online that Wolves may not exist without Sir Jack Hayward and it certainly wouldn’t be in the healthy position it finds itself in today. His contribution, financially, between 1990 and 2007, was needed and kept the club going. I know by today’s standards £70m might not sound like a lot of money in football but with that he purchased the club, rebuilt Molineux and invested year after year in players and wrote off annual trading debts at a time when big investments in players and clubs wasn’t as prevalent or as normal as it is today.

When you think about it he was one of the most philanthropic owners of a football club. All he did was give and when he felt it was his time to hand it over he thought not of personal gain by offering the club on the open market, he sold it for a tenner as long as the new owner promised £30m more investment into the club, not his pocket, the club.

He was born within a stones throw of Molineux and was Wolverhampton Wanderers through and through. That is without an atom of doubt. “We’ll never die, we’ll never die, we’ll keep the Gold flag flying high!” and that chant should be for Sir Jack and what he did, I’m sure in some way it is. He was the greatest friend to the club at a time when we needed it. Our future was heads or tails when he arrived. We could have flipped a coin on whether we stayed in existence or vanished but he turned up and made sure that uncertainty was removed from our club. He saw us get to the semi final of the FA Cup, a trophy he really wanted, and was there that sunny day in 2003 when we made Neil Warnock cry when we routed Sheffield United at the Millennium Stadium to gain top flight football for the first time since 1984.

We shouldn’t forget that he was a man who was a husband, a father, an RAF Pilot officer in World War 2, a businessman, a charitable man and all of the thousand things that we all are to everyone we ever encounter, live with, know or deal with. He lived a full life and was a decent, honest bloke. But he bled gold and black and never forgot his roots. He was an advocate of Wolverhampton and Britain wherever he went and deserved his OBE and his Knighthood in recognition for his charity. It’s fair to say he lived his life his way and made the best of every opportunity that came his way, but luck not skill he’d tell you!

Any criticism of him by fans was in the moment, heated and charged. Football fans act a little crazy. The Wolves fans were always grateful of everything you ever did for the club. The irony of angry fans chanting for the managers head outside a Premiership quality stadium because we lost a few in a row in the league, a league we might not have been in without you, is a little funny considering where we could’ve ended up without your support. Some fans expect too much, but they’re allowed to kick and scream. They get over it when they sober up and reflect. The turn around you gave the club also gave some fans a sense that we could be great again, and that is what you wanted and what they wanted too. You were never a Golden tit, you were always, Golden.

So when you described yourself as “The Golden Tit” no Sir, you were just Golden, 48 carat, I’m sure you knew that, but thank you for being our Golden tit. Everything that happens from here is down to you because without you nothing could’ve happened.

I salute you, we often sing “We are Wolves” but the truth is “You are Wolves”

May you rest in peace, Sir.

You made us all happy and proud again.

Forever We Are Wolves because of you!