Text 1: Same step, every Saturday, by Callum Dransfield

An original contemporary blog.

There are 612 of us here today, according to the scoreboard, which is a blackboard propped against the tea hut. That’s a decent crowd for Thornbury Town, who play in the eighth tier of English football in a ground squeezed between a railway line and a builder’s merchant.

I’ve been coming since I was six. I stand in the same spot every week, on the third step of the covered terrace behind the goal, next to the same three men, none of whose surnames I know. Nobody has a seat. When it rains, as it has all afternoon, the tin roof drums so loudly you can’t hear yourself sing, so we sing louder.

The children don’t watch much of the match. They lean on the rail by the corner flag, waiting for a stray ball to fetch, and the players thank them by name. At half-time the queue for the tea hut moves at the speed of a glacier, but the steak pies are worth it.

We lost 3-1. Our goalkeeper slipped for the second and the referee missed a handball for the third, and for ten minutes the terrace was full of furious opinions. Then somebody started the old song about the brickworks, and by the final whistle we were all singing in the rain as if we had won the league. Next week, same step.

Text 2: The cup tie at Hollins Lane, by Our Football Reporter

An original newspaper report written in a nineteenth-century voice; a period simulation, not an archival document.

In this newspaper report from 1888, a journalist describes the crowd at a cup match between two Lancashire clubs.

Long before the hour appointed for the kick-off, every road leading to the Hollins Lane ground was black with people, and by three o’clock it was computed that not fewer than nine thousand had paid for admission, besides a great number who had not. The gates were rushed shortly before the start, and several hundred youths poured over the palings and were not dislodged.

Every point of vantage was occupied. Spectators stood upon carts and brewers’ drays drawn up along the touchline, and a row of lads sat astride the roof of the cricket pavilion, from which the police made no attempt to remove them. The pressure at the lower end was so severe that a man fainted and was handed over the heads of the crowd to the ambulance men, apparently none the worse.

The play was fast and rough, and the crowd followed it with an excitement which we have seldom seen equalled. Each charge upon the goalkeeper was greeted with a roar, and the referee, whose decisions were not always popular, was freely advised by the onlookers. We regret to record that a quantity of money changed hands upon the result.

When the Rovers’ second goal was scored, ten minutes from time, hats and sticks were flung into the air, and at the final whistle the field was invaded by a cheering multitude who carried the players shoulder high to the dressing room.

Using information from both texts, explain briefly what it was like to be in the crowd at these football matches.

You should make it clear which text you are referring to.