On match days, our illustrious band of hardy souls can be found on the bridge over the Duggy, at the South East corner of the ground, trying to compete with the programme sellers and, when it’s a big game, the horse shit generously provided at premium overtime rates by GMP’s finest.

Also, someone can generally be found loitering outside Rigaletto’s in the West Stand, occasionally arguing with an over-zealous bloke in a high-vis jacket, about where the boundary line is.

If all else fails, our very own Jimmy can be found in the Supporters’ Club Bar attempting to sell the magazine to largley disinterested patrons. This is especially true if it’s cold or raining.