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I remember the stand sellers in town crying out the Argus and the Evening Mail. I remember one guy whose shout never sounded like "Argus!" or "Final Mail" but "Wagus!" and "Find a whale!". Brilliant paper and a joy as a kid.
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I used to join the queue outside Slim's newsagent in Streetly. Slim was a guy who didn't much like opening his shop any time - they always closed for 4 days over Easter. Staying open until 6.30 on Saturday so these sad bastards could have their pink paper used to annoy him greatly.
The pre-season Football Special was always eagerly awaited. It shows how little news we got in those pre-internet days. The squad lists were in there, complete with ages and games played. I remember being surprised how young Ally Robertson was in 1976 (he seemed to have been around forever) and equally how old Willie Johnston was.
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It’s all a part of life that the younger generation will simply not understand. The inability to find out scores if you weren’t near a radio or TV, the gatherings of men outside TV rental shops at 4.45 every Saturday afternoon, the buying of shoot to get the league ladders, the waiting for the van with the Argus in it. The reality that unless you went to matches you wouldn’t get that experience and a big driver for just supporting your local team.
Things are better in many ways, and equally worse at the same time.