Topic: Football Away Days

Your stories of backs of transit vans, sleeping in beach front simulators (Pat), missing trains, waking up with missing trainers, head bags, bed n breakfasts, trains, planes and hitchiking automobiles.

Post them all here.....

I know Cuts has a few.

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Re: Football Away Days

And Gore, the milk trains and soho cinemas etc.

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Re: Football Away Days

Coming soon..,,tales including a Friday night trip to Ipswich in Silba's van,being chased down the A1 by Boro fans after being kicked off the coach coming back from Roker Park....and getting nicked going into Maine Rd with a flaregun in a head bag post Blackpool weekend!

Managerial endeavour = houses = money.

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Re: Football Away Days

At least you tried Placid mate.

Managerial endeavour = houses = money.

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Re: Football Away Days

Bournemouth away.

We went down Friday after work, got there at closing time. Was good atmosphere, pissed up Leeds fans everywhere. We couldn't get a drink so settled for some reefers on the beach. Bumped into Pat who was about to go and sleep in a flight simulator on the front.

We settled for sleeping in the car. Following morning we walked into local supermarket near the front, was packed with Leeds everywhere. Bumped into my brother who was carried out the Mustard Pot Friday by his mates who tied him up and untied him when past Leicester.

Great atmosphere on the beach, drinking, smoking etc. It was rave times so a lot of the black lads from Sonnys (Gadaffi, Crumbie et al) were on the beach with the Rickys (Skizz, China etc) contingent. Socially I thought was quite interesting and befitting the change in some peoples attitude to race, football etc.

The game and subsequent riot are well documented. I pulled some iffy bird who wanted to go and watch all the carrying on, top of the hill, much to my chagrin. I saw lads there who were late to the party, raging at the police, smashing stuff up. The smashing up brigade. All a bit embarrassing. The only funny thing was them singing "Are you ready, are you ready" to the police before running down and having a go at them. KOTS will know but it was anthem of the Astoria and the like.

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Re: Football Away Days

Wil post more when get time. Got Milan, Sunderland was amusing with Hunslet Club, Sheff U on acid, Sydney vs Melbourne.

Harvest has loads Im sure.

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Re: Football Away Days

Good use of chagrin.

Call me up in dreamland. Radio to me man.

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Re: Football Away Days

Looking forward to Sheff U on acid. That was you, not them, right?

Snatching misery from the jaws of glory since, ooooooh, 1973?

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Re: Football Away Days

Bury v York City 16/5/93

Mate, and at the time lodger, was a York City fan. Had followed them home and away since his teens. One of the original 'Nomads', back when they were just an unofficial supporters group rather than the Adidas reissue and Stone Island clad 'firm' they seemed to become in later years.

His brother was also a fan. Some kind of accountant or something similar. Think golf sweaters and jeans ironed with a crease and you're not far off. He'd spent his childhood trainspotting, I shit you not. The fourth of our 'mob' was a colleague of my mate.

After an unremarkable drive over we arrived in Bury. Apart from the ground, some pubs near it and a stretch of road that will become relevant later I have no memory of Bury. Seemed to be a complete non-entity of a place.

We walked to the ground looking for somewhere to have a drink. There was a boozer near it that had a couple of bouncers (this was '93,  still rare-ish to have them on an afternoon). Blokes were climbing in and out of a window to dodge them. We got some funny stares but nobody actually left the pub. Should have said that our slacks-wearing friend had insisted on wearing his YCFC scarf. They knew of another, quieter pub where apparently we'd be fine.

As we ambled along, 2 in front of 2, a couple of blokes came towards us. Something about their faces said something wasn't right. One said 'turn round, fucking turn round now'. We walked past looking back at them trying to work out what they were on about.

We found out. The 'we don't hit scarfers' code of conduct had obviously not reached minor Lancastrian Milltowns. Mr 19th hole got the first blow. I remember getting lamped. I know I threw at least one punch. I've never been any good at scrapping so wasn't that keen to keep going. There's something almost comical about that many people trying to hit you at once. It actually didn't last that long. I decided vaulting the pedestrian crossing barrier next to me might be a good idea. It did separate me from them. It also brought me face to face, literally, with a Bedford Rascal van. They're the babies of the van world but still hurt if they hit you. And this one came within inches of hitting me.

The blokes in front had obviously been warning us.

I'm not really sure what happened next other than I remember dragging my mate's colleague away and ending up further down the road. The 'mob' walked past on the other side but didn't do anything. We did call them a few names, not the brightest thing looking back, but I like to think that at least some of them realised how shithouse a trick 20-odd onto our gang of 4 really was.

We got in the ground a bit sore and fucked off but nothing serious.

As more York fans arrived it seemed the picking on folks plan had been the order of the day for Bury. A lass from York ended up with a broken leg I seem to recall. York's 'risk' were hilarious. A bloke who was the spit of Rod Stewart and dressed like him sticks out. And a lad called 'four foot' for obvious reasons. To be fair I'd seen them in action at a home game and they proved the truism that decent clobber doth not a hard man make.
It ain't what you wear it's how hard you hit!

Anyway, at full time (0-0 I think), we left them to it as they planned a trip to that pub for some revenge.

Well revenge is indeed a dish and all that. I went to the return leg. York won. I like to think that at least a handful of those who jumped us were in the away end as I laughed my cock off at them from the pitch.

I've never been back to Bury.

Last edited by Travis Bickle (Sat 30 Sep 2017 6:14 pm)

She’s the main man in the office in the city and she treats me like I’m just another lackey, but I can put a tennis racket up against my face and pretend that I am Kendo Nagasaki...

Re: Football Away Days

Mike Jones wrote:

Looking forward to Sheff U on acid. That was you, not them, right?

Having watched that today,its probably the way forward for Bramall Lane.

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Re: Football Away Days

Mega Armageddon Chickens wrote:
Mike Jones wrote:

Looking forward to Sheff U on acid. That was you, not them, right?

Having watched that today,its probably the way forward for Bramall Lane.

Aye.

The insurgency began.................and you missed it.

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Re: Football Away Days

Many is the time i've had to self medicate at bramall lane.

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Re: Football Away Days

Travis Bickle wrote:

Bury v York City 16/5/93

Mate, and at the time lodger, was a York City fan. Had followed them home and away since his teens. One of the original 'Nomads', back when they were just an unofficial supporters group rather than the Adidas reissue and Stone Island clad 'firm' they seemed to become in later years.

His brother was also a fan. Some kind of accountant or something similar. Think golf sweaters and jeans ironed with a crease and you're not far off. He'd spent his childhood trainspotting, I shit you not. The fourth of our 'mob' was a colleague of my mate.

After an unremarkable drive over we arrived in Bury. Apart from the ground, some pubs near it and a stretch of road that will become relevant later I have no memory of Bury. Seemed to be a complete non-entity of a place.

We walked to the ground looking for somewhere to have a drink. There was a boozer near it that had a couple of bouncers (this was '93,  still rare-ish to have them on an afternoon). Blokes were climbing in and out of a window to dodge them. We got some funny stares but nobody actually left the pub. Should have said that our slacks-wearing friend had insisted on wearing his YCFC scarf. They knew of another, quieter pub where apparently we'd be fine.

As we ambled along, 2 in front of 2, a couple of blokes came towards us. Something about their faces said something wasn't right. One said 'turn round, fucking turn round now'. We walked past looking back at them trying to work out what they were on about.

We found out. The 'we don't hit scarfers' code of conduct had obviously not reached minor Lancastrian Milltowns. Mr 19th hole got the first blow. I remember getting lamped. I know I threw at least one punch. I've never been any good at scrapping so wasn't that keen to keep going. There's something almost comical about that many people trying to hit you at once. It actually didn't last that long. I decided vaulting the pedestrian crossing barrier next to me might be a good idea. It did separate me from them. It also brought me face to face, literally, with a Bedford Rascal van. They're the babies of the van world but still hurt if they hit you. And this one came within inches of hitting me.

The blokes in front had obviously been warning us.

I'm not really sure what happened next other than I remember dragging my mate's colleague away and ending up further down the road. The 'mob' walked past on the other side but didn't do anything. We did call them a few names, not the brightest thing looking back, but I like to think that at least some of them realised how shithouse a trick 20-odd onto our gang of 4 really was.

We got in the ground a bit sore and fucked off but nothing serious.

As more York fans arrived it seemed the picking on folks plan had been the order of the day for Bury. A lass from York ended up with a broken leg I seem to recall. York's 'risk' were hilarious. A bloke who was the spit of Rod Stewart and dressed like him sticks out. And a lad called 'four foot' for obvious reasons. To be fair I'd seen them in action at a home game and they proved the truism that decent clobber doth not a hard man make.
It ain't what you wear it's how hard you hit!

Anyway, at full time (0-0 I think), we left them to it as they planned a trip to that pub for some revenge.

Well revenge is indeed a dish and all that. I went to the return leg. York won. I like to think that at least a handful of those who jumped us were in the away end as I laughed my cock off at them from the pitch.

I've never been back to Bury.

"Laughed my cock off"

One of my favourite sayings smile

Bury is a shit hole (filled with shit houses by the sound of t)

Serves you right for going to see York.......

You are what you repeatedly do. Excellence is not an event - it is a habit.

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Re: Football Away Days

Chelsea V Leeds April’89.

Packed away coach leaving from White Cross at Guiseley about 8.00am, a mixture of lads from Ilkley/ Guiseley/ Yeadon/ Baildon/ Otley area. Stopped off in Leeds to pick up a load of far better dressed and cool lads at the Queens Hotel with a couple of psychopaths in with them. It was one of my first ‘proper’ away days with Leeds. All dressed-up, split jeans at the bottom with nice Pringle, roll-neck etc, which seemed to have gone out of fashion by the time I got round to buying them, but nonetheless, I more or less fitted in. The journey was a mixture of excitement and trepidation (deep down at least), a country village lad with a load of older ‘townies’ who seemed so much more knowledgeable and casual about anything you’re not allowed to do and regarded a night in the cells as akin to having a nice cuppa tea. They just didn’t seem to give a shit about anything whatsoever. I admired that reckless and carefree attitude for a time, they seemed to be free. They lived for the weekends these boys, they were out of control.

The coach on the way down was lots of the usual heavy drinking, one lad was stuffed in the overhead rack from Chesterfield to London after having his sandwiches taken off him, opened-up and slapped all over his head. My mate thought it a good idea to bring his old man’s plastic 60L beer brewing bin to use as a pisser. He has added a lid and a funnel and it worked well. It was emptied twice, the first time was at about Nottingham area, out of the back of the coach, on the M1, onto the cars behind us. We stopped at some country boozer just off the M1 at Northampton and that's where it all started heated up, particularly the Leeds lads. They seemed to enjoy drinking and kicking the shit out of each other at the pub while families watched as seemed part of their ‘routine’. I still haven’t got my head round that one, they seemed to get on perfectly fine by the time we got back in the coach.

By the time we got to Scratchwood services, everybody was reasonably well pissed as we all trooped off the services for a lunch stop. Bit rowdy inside but nothing too bad until we walked out when a mate of mine thought he would push one of the lads away from him in some ‘jokey’ fashion. It was a good push, as the lad went straight through a very large plate glass window with a family having their lunch. Bloody glass everywhere, and I never knew what happened to the family, we ran to the bus. Unfortunately, as the coach engine started, three squad cars flew in sirens blazing. I thought, that's it, it’s over. No game, no fuck all, what a total waste of a day. Some self-appointed spokesman stood outside the coach for some time and the police let us go on our way, but with a police escort until central London.

Now at this time, you needed an ‘away card’ so having just a ticket was not enough, you needed to be a registered fan. Problem is, I didn’t have one. More on this in a bit. As we got in central London, the excitement increased, big city, people looking at us, we are here, in the capital. What people saw staring and shouting back at them god only knows, a bus full of pissed-up not rights. As the bus slowly moved its way along Fulham High Street, it became busier and busier with Chelsea, the air turned menacing outside. More shouting, the bus taking hits objects thrown. The bus started rocking in places, not exactly what I had had in mind. The back of the bus had a door that didn’t quite close properly, lose control of the door and the Chelsea mob could take the bus, I’m thinking that's not good. The door got pulled open and a couple of the lads on the coach were booting Chelsea off the back, I am sat a few rows back wondering what the fuck I have let myself in for. All the best armies over history have the best fighting equipment and today was no exception, and we were armed with arguably the most effective. About 6 – 8 Chelsea were clamoring to get into the back of the slow-moving bus and making some progress. I can 100% confirm that there is no better piece of military equipment than a very full 60L beer brewing bin full of warm piss. When thrown out of the back door of a coach onto a large mob, they seem move from the scene very quickly. It is still one of the funniest things I have ever seen, 8 – 10 Chelsea soaked in warm piss and about another 20 or so getting a milder spattering.

The coach pulled up outside the gates and we were pushing on mass towards the entrance, Chelsea all around us, it was going off and the police were trying to control as best they could. Two of the Leeds lads announced they were going to walk around the ground and smack as many Chelsea as they could. When we met them later, they looked reasonably ruffled but seemed to have done the job they intended without too much damage to themselves. These two psycho’s were something else. As we go to the entrance gate, all I had was the back of an away card as someone tore theirs in two and gave me just the back, the bloke said no to letting me and then the push came and we just piled in on mass as the scrapping erupted behind us. Thank fuck we got in, I could have been on the end of a right old kicking if they had not let me in I would have almost certainly been on my own.

We then had to watch the game in a huge open away end terrace in a broken and crumbling stand, which a few lads took turns throwing pieces of broken concrete at the police over the stand fencing. Always struck me that their club wanted that to happen. I didn’t remember the result so had to Google it. We lost.

Quiet bus on the way home, honestly don’t remember too much after that. Think that was uneventful.

'When you become a grown up, people stop asking you what your favourite dinosaur is....They don't even care.'

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Re: Football Away Days

Nice one Mitaman - picked out a few lines that spoke a lot to my travels and travails;

"All dressed-up, split jeans at the bottom with nice Pringle, roll-neck etc, which seemed to have gone out of fashion by the time I got round to buying them"

"one lad was stuffed in the overhead rack from Chesterfield to London"

"but with a police escort until central London"

"The bus started rocking in places"

"then the push came and we just piled in on mass as the scrapping erupted behind us"

Sure it was much the same for many of us but just reading that piece brought it flooding back and actually made me quite nostalgic!  I wouldn't know what to do with myself these days in such circumstances smile

Good thread this

You are what you repeatedly do. Excellence is not an event - it is a habit.

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Re: Football Away Days

Sheffield United away
This is not one particular game but a few things have happened on my visits to games against them. Used to play them a few times on Easter Mondays and went on the service train ( pre service crew days ) with lads from our estate. On one of these occasions we were in a pub just over the road from the train station playing pool when 2 Wednesday fans came in wearing scarfs hats rosettes the lot which was not unusual in the 70's although what was unusual was Wednesday weren't playing that day. They then tried to get us all outside to attack some blades fans that were in another pub, we declined their kind offer. We then made our way up past the Crusible into town where a Ben shaws pop bottle that had been dropped from a building just missed me and another of the lads. We were heading to the Black Swan a pub we used every time we played them that had strippers on, as we crossed the road we were ambushed by what seemed like a big group of lads with no clue as to who they were. We had a go but we're surprised by the ambush and came off 2nd best one of the lads getting knocked down by a car. On another occasion whilst in the Black Swan some miners from Chesterfield came over really friendly and said alright lads do you fancy a scrap outside we'll take you on. One of the lads said yeah ok thinking with a pub full of Leeds fans what could go wrong, there was about 10 of them but they were big fuckers. When we went out they followed us and showered us with beer glasses them big fuckers with handles. Anyway we overwhelmed them with numbers and came off best although one of ours got a nasty cut on the head from one of the glasses. Used to be a dangerous place in the 70's Sheffield even if we did take the Shoreham.

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Re: Football Away Days

Top work Precint Boy. Visions of Star Jumpers, Oxford Bags and Mud Haircuts. Great tales mate. Love it

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Re: Football Away Days

My mate thought it a good idea to bring his old man’s plastic 60L beer brewing bin to use as a pisser. He has added a lid and a funnel and it worked well. It was emptied twice, the first time was at about Nottingham area, out of the back of the coach, on the M1, onto the cars behind us.

Superb Mitman.

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Re: Football Away Days

My first ever glimpse of violence was mid 70s, Birmingham at home. I was probably about 8. I was sat in the West stand with my dad, my older brother, big bob and his son Russell. We left at least 5 mins early because my dad had a pub and would miss opening if he didn't get out before the crowd

That always pissed me off...used to find it really embarrassing when the kop were singing part time supporters as we hurriedly left..   daaaaaaaad!!!

As we were walking towards the car near Clark's we heard a load if shouting and stuff and basically a black lad was getting chased by about six Leeds fans .. he came mentally close to getting knocked down by a car and my dad grabbed him. He got hold of the lad and says it's alright son, you're safe and turned to face the Leeds fans. My dad and bob were basically saying it's six on one lads, leave him alone, we're Leeds as well but you're out of order...

We continued walking with the black lad with us and the lads behind us were shouting nigger lover nigger lover! And it seemed likebit was gonna kick off... so my dad and bob says to us kids to get over the wall and started pushing us all over it... then him and bib turned to the Leeds lads and said come on then, to which they want steaming in...sheepskin coats and dealer boots...two on to six and the two came out on top. ..and some...

They then grabbed us from behind the wall along with the black lad and we all squeezed in to car.. I always remember bob rolling up his pant leg and complaining that he'd been kicked...

Last edited by scootay (Thu 05 Oct 2017 8:24 am)

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Re: Football Away Days

scootay wrote:

My first ever glimpse of violence was mid 70s, Birmingham at home. I was probably about 8. I was sat in the West stand with my dad, my older brother, big bob and his son Russell. We left at least 5 mins early because my dad had a pub and would miss opening if he didn't get out before the crowd

That always pissed me off...used to find it really embarrassing when the kop were singing part time supporters as we hurriedly left..   daaaaaaaad!!!

As we were walking towards the car near Clark's we heard a load if shouting and stuff and basically a black lad was getting chased by about six Leeds fans .. he came mentally close to getting knocked down by a car and my dad grabbed him. He got hold of the lad and says it's alright son, you're safe and turned to face the Leeds fans. My dad and bob were basically saying it's six on one lads, leave him alone, we're Leeds as well but you're out of order...

We continued walking with the black lad with us and the lads behind us were shouting nigger lover nigger lover! And it seemed likebit was gonna kick off... so my dad and bob says to us kids to get over the wall and started pushing us all over it... then him and bib turned to the Leeds lads and said come on then, to which they want steaming in...sheepskin coats and dealer boots...two on to six and the two came out on top. ..and some...

They then grabbed us from behind the wall along with the black lad and we all squeezed in to car.. I always remember bob rolling up his pant leg and complaining that he'd been kicked...

Great story Scoots.  All dads seemed hard as nails when I was a kid.

I'd offer you a beer, but I've only got six cans.

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Re: Football Away Days

Wolves 1972
Was talking to an old mate of mine the other day about away games in the70’s and Wolves came up. First time I went was in 1972 which was 2 days after the cup final win against Arsenal. I’m sure you all know what happened football wise, with the so called bribing of the Wolves players shit and the worst refereeing display I’ve seen and I’ve seen some bad ones. Then to cap it all missing out on doing the double because of it. I didn’t decide to go until on the way home from the cup final but managed to scrounge a lift for my mate Micky (r.i.p) and myself from a lad who I went to Kitson College withs mam and dad. When we got there Me Mick, and Stores the lad from college ( he worked in the stores for 3 months and the name stuck ) left them behind and
went for a mosey around which ended up with us being chased and split up by a mob of Wolves fans. I made my way to the turnstiles and found there to be massive queues but saw Stores and joined him. We luckily got in just before the gates locked but didn’t see Mick. In the ground we were on the south bank which I think was full of Leeds, but was massively overcrowded. Whilst on the terrace I saw a lad I knew from town a bit behind us who was waving a Union Jack with Leeds painted on it on a brush handle, a guy behind him said put that fucking flag down I can’t see to which the lad started jabbing him in the face with the brush handle numerous times. The lad with the flag was E.C who i’m Sure a lot of you wil know or heard of. The terrace was absolutely heaving and eventually a barrier gave way which resulted in me ending up on the pitch along with loads more. There was no way we could get back on the terrace so the coppers escorted us round the pitch telling us to get in the crowd down the side of the ground which was also very full with Wolves fans. One copper who was a proper cunt said I was under arrest on 3 different occasions because I wouldn’t get in the crowd but as I started getting closer to the North Bank (Wolves main end) I thought I better get in here. After the game Mick told me how he’d been locked out but managed to sneak behind an officials car as it was being let through the gate, and ended up in the players tunnel where Norman was heading a ball against the wall. When he walked out of the tunnel to get on the terrace there was a big roar and he turned round to see the teams following him out. When I got back to the car for my lift home Stores was holding his hand over his eye, some nice Wolves fan had flicked his cig in it. I’ve got another tale about Wolves in the f.a cup in 1977 I think which I can put up some other time if anyone wants me to.

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Re: Football Away Days

Ace.

Precinct Boy wrote:

and Stores the lad from college ( he worked in the stores for 3 months and the name stuck )

Ace.

I think which I can put up some other time if anyone wants me to.

Yes please.

Call me up in dreamland. Radio to me man.

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Re: Football Away Days

Can't help thinking something about watching a screen showing a Sky match in another town.

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Re: Football Away Days

Think I could write a book on my trips to Wolves in the 70’s.
You could and still can get a direct train from Wrexham to wolverhampton.
73/74 fa cup 2nd away game flying solo . Great turnout, unlucky to get caught on me own  with a 7’ bloke wearing a wrangler jacket with a , right on the torch , badge. Who took a shine to my scarf. Before I could tell him I was also a big soul fan. He’d thrown me against a tv shop window and was away with my scarf.
Following year , last away game before Paris and also dougan’s last game. For some reason special trains from Leeds got cancelled. They had a right mod of lads on the south bank and us short of numbers we were soon scattered. It was rough that day.
Next season we had numbers again and sheared the south bank. Got a bit of retribution on em for the previous 2 seasons back at the station.
The cup game in 78 we went on a mini bus . I’d had chicken pox and was spotty as fuck but didn’t want to miss out. Thought I was keeping a low profile but managed to get ejected . Outside less than 5 minuets, bought a ticket off a lad and went back in .
Went another time when they were modernising the ground. Me and my mate got there late and couldn’t get in . Climbed over a wall got in the north bank . Went down the front, think we scored or somehow drew attention to our selves , got pulled out and sat in seats for rest of the game .

To stand aside is to take sides.

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Re: Football Away Days

Sunderland away.
Can't recall the year but Allan Clarke had just taken the managers role and it was the week after we'd drawn 0-0 with Man Utd when it all kicked off downstairs in the South Stand.

Leeds had never really taken a big following to Roker Park previously,it was a scary place and no mistaking.
However it was at the time when we started to realise there was genuine safety in numbers and places like Everton,both Manc clubs,Boro etc became enjoyable days out instead of trips to fear.

Decided to take my chances with the older nutters in Silba's van for the trip to Roker Park based on the fact that if it kicked off I was in good company.
Fairly sure Soldierant,ex of this parish was onboard too.

Anyhow, when we finally arrived at Roker Park,suitably pissed after drinking numerous cans of cheap lager, Silba's decides to park it down one of those side streets where there's rows and rows of terrace houses.....not good!
We gets out,about 20 of us,maybe less,and starts the walk up to the ground.
Sure enough just as we reach the end of the street a mob of about 40 or so skinhead types with Mackem scarves on have formed a nice guard of honour!

At this point I reckon I've just soiled my under crackers with a first coat!

Honey Monster from Bradford was with us (thank fuck) turns round and reminds us that if anyone runs,we'll have him to deal with after!!
So we make a charge,I positioned myself strategically behind him and Bamber(another fruitcake from Bradford).
Surprisingly the Mackems scatter but not before one of them had left his fist in the way of my nose which felt like it had spread itself all over my face....claret everywhere!

Anyway we gets in the ground and despite the fact there's about 3 or 4 thousand Leeds in that open air end behind the goal,myself and our kid,who'd also gone up, decided there was no fucking way we were heading back in that van given the obvious reception that was awaiting.

So we went the way of the main Leeds escort after and blagged it on to the Wally trolley coach to Bradford.
Trouble is there was more people on it than seats so seems others had had the same idea.

The coach gets on to the A1..or was it the A19?..can't remember, but one of the drivers comes round checking tickets and of course we don't have any!
So the cunt stops the coach at the next parking lay by and tells those without tickets to get off!!

Think there was half a dozen or so of us.

So we're walking down the hard shoulder thumbing a lift and of course no fuckers bothered to pick 6 numb nuts with Leeds scarves on,least of all when one of them has dried blood all over his jacket!
At this point we observe quite a few coaches of Boro fans heading back up the other carriageway and decide it's a good idea to start waving the vickers at them.

Not the best idea because one of the coaches had somehow found a way to do an about turn and pulled up on another lay by about 100 yards behind us!

A glance back and there's about 30 Boro fans steaming down the hard shoulder our way!

Fucking ace!!

At that point I grabbed our kid and we headed through a thicket into a field and waded through mud which seemed a foot deep to get out the way.

Absolutely no idea what happened to the others but about an hour later we ended up totally lost in some little village.
We heads into a boozer, mud up to our knees, my nose still all over my face and the guy behind the bar says "what the fucks happened to you two?"

Tells him the tale and he starts pissing himself, turns out he's a diehard Newcastle fan.
He pulls 50 quid out of the till and tells us a taxi's on the way!

We finally get home at about midnight...the old fella is still up and not happy when he sees the state of us but that's another story.

Think we won 1-0 too but couldn't swear to it!

Happy days (ish)!

RIP Silba and Honey Monster by the way,2 legends.

Managerial endeavour = houses = money.

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