Oh the memories, Sea Jay Pea. I used to watch Wimbledon when they were in the Southern League (late 1960s). The North End of the ground was a huge grass bank (before terracing), and it was a nightmare if it had been raining. You could pay your entrance fee ( a couple of shillings, I suppose) and stand at which ever end Wimbledon were attacking, changing ends at half-time. Going, of course, via the burger van (literally a converted 2-berth caravan) which was situated on the half-way line on the East side of the ground. Happy days.