What the hell is a 35 year old guy doing going to a Take That concert? I asked myself that several times on the way to Lancashire County Cricket Club, wondering if I’d ever see my car again as we dumped it in a housing estate a mile from the ground.
Looking around the crowd predominantly 30 something women fueled with Gaymers and buckets of Nachos waited excitedly for their teenage fantasy past to make an entrance. On closer inspection I noticed there were a percentage of men like myself who had that ‘I’m wondering why I’m here too’ expression on their face, but what initially started out as a profit making exercise (A certain Mr Williams was on everyone’s lips as we walked to the venue, isn’t he in Nevada spotting aliens?) ended up with with me hollering to 4 lads from the north in clown suits whilst Peter Kaye overlooked from the Pavillion box waving his arms to 50,000 people chanting Amarillo – all great fun. The show was spectacular to say the least – the lads put on a real show and even value for money Northerners like me left with a smile on my face, a more commercial but interesting take on the Circus and all it’s facets. It was the last leg of the Manchester visit and as the fireworks went up we left that evening never forgetting where we came from.
