Tiger Talk with Trevor Trumpet

My name is Trevor Trumpet and I’ve been following the Tigers all my life. Even longer than that, to tell you the truth. I’m no Johnny Come Lately, me. You could never call me a plastic fan. I’m about as plastic as a pint glass, I am. A real pint glass, I mean. Not like one of them you get at the KC Stadium. They’re rubbish, they are. They really are plastic.

You can’t call yourself a real Hull City fan unless you’ve done your time like I have. It wasn’t always this poncey Premier League carry on, I’ll tell you. Oh no. I’ve made more round trips to Torquay on the back seat of a Simon Gray bus than Jon Parkin has had hot dinners. And probably cold ones, too.

For every Jimmy Bullard at this club, we’ve had two dozen Aaron Wilbrahams – let me tell you. I don’t know how many hot dinners Jimmy Bullard has had, by the way. But he looks as though he could do with one or two more to me.

Anyway, the point is, when it comes to the Tigers, I know what I’m talking about. In my back bedroom I’ve got a collection of match day programmes and used Golden Goal tickets so big that it should practically qualify me to be the manager of Hull City by now. You don’t freeze your nuts off on Bunkers Hill every other weekend for forty odd years without learning a thing or two about football.

When I’m not supporting the Tigers, I’m a butcher. I’ve been butchering even longer than I’ve been a Hull City fan. People who come into my shop all say the same thing. And that’s when it comes to meat, Trumpet knows his onions. And it’s the same with the Tigers. I know my onions, I do. I haven’t always been a butcher, by the way. I used to specialise in tripe, but less and less people seemed to be interested in my tripe as time went on, so I became a butcher instead. Must be five years ago now.

People listen to what I say. I usually say it quite loud, so that tends to help. I once got a letter about Dean Windass published in the Hull Daily Mail. They put a big red border round it and made it Star Letter of the Week. It was so good they sent me a tenner for it. I wanted to put the money towards a replica shirt in the club shop, but they were all too small. They got me to fill out a special order form with my size on it, but they still couldn’t get one. I know I’m no Jimmy Bullard, but to be honest, even I’ll admit that the last time I’d seen so many “X”’s on a single sheet of paper was when my maths teacher gave me my final year exam paper back. Still, you don’t need to be good at maths to be a butcher. Apart from when you’re weighing out the meat and selling it to customers and working out their change and stuff, of course.

There’s money in meat, there is. And there’s worse things than being a butcher. At the end of the day, it’s a bloody job, isn’t it?

I mounted that letter in a black and amber frame and hung it in my downstairs toilet, by the way. Twice, in actual fact. One behind the toilet, one in front. So you can read it whatever you're doing, if you see what I mean. I don’t think anyone has ever come out of my bog and failed to mention it. Incidentally, I said in my letter that after Waggy and Chillo, Deano was probably the third best striker City have ever had. And you can’t get any higher praise than that.

Anyway, that’s me introduced. I’ll be coming on here regularly as from now – just to let you know what I think about how things are. I tell it straight, I do. Some people seem to just piddle round the edges and everything becomes grey. I don’t like grey, me. At the end of the day, life is black and white, and that’s the way I tell it. It’s just the same in football. You either win or you lose, and there’s no in between. Unless you draw, of course.

So I’m looking forward to swapping banter with everyone who agrees with me. You might find me a bit loud, but I’m a good sort and I mean no harm. It’s just the way I am. I’ve got my views and I like to air them. It’s like my wife has always said – if you’re lucky enough to have a trumpet, then don’t be afraid to blow it.

I’ll be getting ready for West Ham soon. Big game, this one. Could shape the rest of our season. A lot of people might not agree with that, but I personally do.

I said years ago that I would never do predictions, but I’ve never been the type to sit on the fence, either. You’ll never catch me doing that.

So I think this will be a close game; fifty-fifty – could go either way.