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Ive mentioned this before on the board but the a mate and I went to the 5-2 mauling at the Emirates (the first one)...(that's horrible to have to type) couldn't get tickets but I know someone who works for Woolwich and thought it would be a good idea to sit with the Woolwich fans 
If course we go 2-0 up and are trying our hardest to not cheer when the goals go on (this involves me sitting down quickly, putting my head in my hands and screaming a muffled YEAAAH!).
We have a special breed of Gooner idiot sitting next to us who has brought his girlfriend who clearly isn't interested, ginger kid who thinks he was from the only way is Essex - horrible.
Anyway, we had to sit there whilst we hear this ginger kid and others around us hurl abuse at the Spurs fans, some of it anti Jewish, which, up close was pretty nasty.
The goals start flying in, this time I let out a FUUUUCK but try and make it sound like I was admiring the quality of RVP bending it round Brad.
As we sat there, the score 5-2, seeing Redknapp looking more lost than sammsypurs at an argumentative anonymous meeting
we decided to leave, we just couldn't take it anymore. As we exited the stinking cess pit of a stadium we heard the crowd cheer- Parker had seen red. It was the worst day ever.
My mate was so devastated he had to go home. For some reason I decided to call an Woolwich supporting mate of mine and see if he fancied a beer after he got out of the ground.
I ended up getting completely smashed as he bought me too many sympathy drinks. I then found myself at a Black Culture night in a club on Leicester Square where his friend was performing.
Of course, there were comedians and all sorts warming up the crowd and being one of the few white people in there I stood out and was immediately invited up on stage where I had to explain what I did for a living (I was working on Channel 4 Racing at the time). You can imagine my drunken horror when I was told (once on stage) it was a dance contest. So the two other people on stage went first and busted out some pretty mean moves, and the girl was grinding hard on the other guy drawing cheers and whistles from the crowd. If I wasn't so drunk I probably would have flat refused to go up but as it came to my turn to dance I suddenly realised...I cant.
So there I was, on stage in front of a sea of people waiting for a rap battle and all I could think of was to hop around the stage pretending to be a race house whilst the DJ played this
I basically recreated the routine with added horse riding impersonation.
Cue hysteria from the crowd and I won the contest by way of standing ovation winning more drinks for me and my friends.
Don't remember how I got home but woke up, puked up and had to take the next day off work with one of the worst hangovers I have ever known.
Sorry, I know TLR but I got carried away typing.
If course we go 2-0 up and are trying our hardest to not cheer when the goals go on (this involves me sitting down quickly, putting my head in my hands and screaming a muffled YEAAAH!).
We have a special breed of Gooner idiot sitting next to us who has brought his girlfriend who clearly isn't interested, ginger kid who thinks he was from the only way is Essex - horrible.
Anyway, we had to sit there whilst we hear this ginger kid and others around us hurl abuse at the Spurs fans, some of it anti Jewish, which, up close was pretty nasty.
The goals start flying in, this time I let out a FUUUUCK but try and make it sound like I was admiring the quality of RVP bending it round Brad.
As we sat there, the score 5-2, seeing Redknapp looking more lost than sammsypurs at an argumentative anonymous meeting
we decided to leave, we just couldn't take it anymore. As we exited the stinking cess pit of a stadium we heard the crowd cheer- Parker had seen red. It was the worst day ever.My mate was so devastated he had to go home. For some reason I decided to call an Woolwich supporting mate of mine and see if he fancied a beer after he got out of the ground.
I ended up getting completely smashed as he bought me too many sympathy drinks. I then found myself at a Black Culture night in a club on Leicester Square where his friend was performing.
Of course, there were comedians and all sorts warming up the crowd and being one of the few white people in there I stood out and was immediately invited up on stage where I had to explain what I did for a living (I was working on Channel 4 Racing at the time). You can imagine my drunken horror when I was told (once on stage) it was a dance contest. So the two other people on stage went first and busted out some pretty mean moves, and the girl was grinding hard on the other guy drawing cheers and whistles from the crowd. If I wasn't so drunk I probably would have flat refused to go up but as it came to my turn to dance I suddenly realised...I cant.
So there I was, on stage in front of a sea of people waiting for a rap battle and all I could think of was to hop around the stage pretending to be a race house whilst the DJ played this
I basically recreated the routine with added horse riding impersonation.
Cue hysteria from the crowd and I won the contest by way of standing ovation winning more drinks for me and my friends.
Don't remember how I got home but woke up, puked up and had to take the next day off work with one of the worst hangovers I have ever known.
Sorry, I know TL
R but I got carried away typing.
Trying to force entry into 1987 Cup Final by diving headlong through Turnstiles whilst dressed as Snoopy, after several failed attempts and ejections finally got carted off to The Old Bill shop, heard about 20 Yids managed to get in while Stewards were chasing me, earned the nickname Decoy
I was at the 9-1 against Wigan - it was my second game. I had cut myself shaving in various places (I think it was my third time using a straight razor and there is a steep learning curve). It was an incredibly bizarre feeling to go through in any case but as the third goal went in, my face felt a bit odd. I brought my hand to my face and saw quite a lot of claret come off it. I used a tissue to stop the bleeding, but every time we scored it started again from three quite decent-sized cuts. I think I left the ground with my face covered in blood but smiling - must have looked mental.
Back in the 70's I lived near Sheffield and used to go and watch Sheffield United. They got promotion in 71 and hit the first division flying, winning most of their opening fixtures - when Spurs went up and drew (IIRC) I had a ticket to the away end, where all the Spurs fans were, and this was back when violence was part of the ritual.
In those days SUFCs ground was also the Yorkshire County cricket ground, so it only had 3 sides for football fans, and it was actually possible to walk from the Shoreham Street end (home Kop) to the Bramall Lane end, round the cricket side - which the home fans duly did (I think us taking the lead was the catalyst) for a fight, which they duly got rewarded with. In the Spurs section was a mountain of a bloke, who looked like he had been hewn out of granite, head and shoulders above everyone around him. After the majority of the fighting had subsided, a United fan snuck through the crowd and launched himself at the big man, and smashed a bottle over the back of his head - the mountain rubbed his head, turned round and shouted "fack off" at the top of his voice, and then turned back to watch the game. Meanwhile the guy with the bottle was receiving an unholy beating.
Most surreal thing I have ever witnessed at a football match.
I read the Glory Game a few years later and in the hooligan chapter Davies described a guy like that called Big Es (Eskimo?) - dunno if it was him though.
In those days SUFCs ground was also the Yorkshire County cricket ground, so it only had 3 sides for football fans, and it was actually possible to walk from the Shoreham Street end (home Kop) to the Bramall Lane end, round the cricket side - which the home fans duly did (I think us taking the lead was the catalyst) for a fight, which they duly got rewarded with. In the Spurs section was a mountain of a bloke, who looked like he had been hewn out of granite, head and shoulders above everyone around him. After the majority of the fighting had subsided, a United fan snuck through the crowd and launched himself at the big man, and smashed a bottle over the back of his head - the mountain rubbed his head, turned round and shouted "fack off" at the top of his voice, and then turned back to watch the game. Meanwhile the guy with the bottle was receiving an unholy beating.
Most surreal thing I have ever witnessed at a football match.
I read the Glory Game a few years later and in the hooligan chapter Davies described a guy like that called Big Es (Eskimo?) - dunno if it was him though.
I love pedantry 
The last day of the 2008 season we played Liverpool who beat us at the Lane. As we won the Carling Cup that year, I thought I'd hang around and clap the players for a good season. Usually I go, as I can't be asked hanging about. As the players got towards the Park Lane end, Robbo and Keane started kicking footballs into the stand. I sit in the upper section so was surprised when one of the balls was coming towards me.
I and a few others tried to catch Keane's effort and just as I was in pole position to catch it, the bloke behind me pushed me forward. The tip of my ring finger went into the ball and snapped. I swiftly took off my ring to find that I had broken my finger.
By the time I got out of the stadium it had swelled up quite a bit. I wouldn't have minded, but a few weeks later Keane was signing for Liverpool while my finger was out of action for 8 weeks. Don't know what I resented more, him joining the reds, or smashing my hand up.
Every season after the last home game, I always get some smart arse telling me not to try and catch any footballs. :smile:
I and a few others tried to catch Keane's effort and just as I was in pole position to catch it, the bloke behind me pushed me forward. The tip of my ring finger went into the ball and snapped. I swiftly took off my ring to find that I had broken my finger.
By the time I got out of the stadium it had swelled up quite a bit. I wouldn't have minded, but a few weeks later Keane was signing for Liverpool while my finger was out of action for 8 weeks. Don't know what I resented more, him joining the reds, or smashing my hand up.
Every season after the last home game, I always get some smart arse telling me not to try and catch any footballs. :smile:
Wigan at home in the FA cup quite a few years back.
It was on a friday night for some strange reason, and I went to the Bricklayers at about 4PM.
Subsuquently drank 3 pints, and 2 pitchers of beer before the game.
My mate found me at half time in the toilets face down in a cubicle sleeping, with sick all down myself.
Still ended up going Rudolphs after the game
It was on a friday night for some strange reason, and I went to the Bricklayers at about 4PM.
Subsuquently drank 3 pints, and 2 pitchers of beer before the game.
My mate found me at half time in the toilets face down in a cubicle sleeping, with sick all down myself.
Still ended up going Rudolphs after the game
After the game when we beat Leeds 4-2 to avoid relegation. Standing on the pitch at the end of the game, I turned to my mates and said "What a fucking brilliant season", and they all agreed.
We'd just avoided relegation FFS!!!!
We'd just avoided relegation FFS!!!!
Obviously. Had it been at up north somewhere it would have deffo been a ferret, probably being chased by a whippet
This poor old bird in Slavia Prague at half time was walking across in front of a few thousand Spurs getting a bit of ironic whistle and banter. She got a bit cocky and waved back and subseqeuntly dropped her burger on the floor. Lolz x a few thousand.
The simple ones are sometimes the best.
The simple ones are sometimes the best.
Reading
Mick Cooper
's post reminds me of the days when Barnet were Southern League. Went to watch Hendon v Barnet in a cup replay at Clermont Road. I was with a Hendon mate and standing in the Hendon end (good crowd, but plenty of space still). At some point, a group of chanting Barnet "boot boys" wearing their butchers coats came marching round from their end looking for bovver.
There was one bloke in front and about 20 following him. As they marched into our end, some bloke in his 50s or so turned round and smacked the leader, knocking him flying. The bloke just shouted "fuck off back down your end. Yer not welcome here!".
The yob picked himself up screaming "let's get 'em" (or words to that effect). He then stopped and looked around and his mates were all legging it back round their end. The lead yob hesitated and then ran off!
It was classic.
Mick Cooper
's post reminds me of the days when Barnet were Southern League. Went to watch Hendon v Barnet in a cup replay at Clermont Road. I was with a Hendon mate and standing in the Hendon end (good crowd, but plenty of space still). At some point, a group of chanting Barnet "boot boys" wearing their butchers coats came marching round from their end looking for bovver.There was one bloke in front and about 20 following him. As they marched into our end, some bloke in his 50s or so turned round and smacked the leader, knocking him flying. The bloke just shouted "fuck off back down your end. Yer not welcome here!".
The yob picked himself up screaming "let's get 'em" (or words to that effect). He then stopped and looked around and his mates were all legging it back round their end. The lead yob hesitated and then ran off!
It was classic.
* The Mohicans (Potter from Romford - anyone remember him?) skipping across the WHL pitch arm in arm early 80's. Made match of the day!
* Me walking into a lamp post while walking along watching Tottenham kicking off with Portsmouth down a side road at Fratton Park. (Hurt my pride more than my head).
* Live cockerels on the pitch early 80's with police running around trying to catch them
* One whole carriage of Spurs crammed into a small compartment on the train coming back from Ipswich away, while one of our mates (Spaz) ran around with a piece of shit on some paper
* Spaz again. Fulham away, we are in the open end and it's pissing down, Tottenham start running across the pitch to get into the away end to keep dry, only one running in the opposite direction is Spaz!
* Chelsea's main boy SH thinking he was a big man coming in the bottom of the Shelf with his mates and then pleading with the police to get him out!
* Our Belgian mate who has been to 3 Europa league away games this season, but gets pissed before the game and ends up sleeping through most of the match.
* Me walking into a lamp post while walking along watching Tottenham kicking off with Portsmouth down a side road at Fratton Park. (Hurt my pride more than my head).
* Live cockerels on the pitch early 80's with police running around trying to catch them
* One whole carriage of Spurs crammed into a small compartment on the train coming back from Ipswich away, while one of our mates (Spaz) ran around with a piece of shit on some paper
* Spaz again. Fulham away, we are in the open end and it's pissing down, Tottenham start running across the pitch to get into the away end to keep dry, only one running in the opposite direction is Spaz!
* Chelsea's main boy SH thinking he was a big man coming in the bottom of the Shelf with his mates and then pleading with the police to get him out!
* Our Belgian mate who has been to 3 Europa league away games this season, but gets pissed before the game and ends up sleeping through most of the match.
Dru
That was a brilliant read haha
Not me but someone I used to work with told me back in the early 80's he had gone to a game and was suitably smashed before getting into the stadium.
He went to the toilet just before half time...then woke up later in one of the cubicles only to come back outside and find the game had finished and EVERYONE was long gone. He was locked in and had to shout for 20mins before someone heard him and let him out.
Sounds a bit far fetched to me - getting locked inside WHL but although I didn't work with him for long, I wouldn't put it past him.
He went to the toilet just before half time...then woke up later in one of the cubicles only to come back outside and find the game had finished and EVERYONE was long gone. He was locked in and had to shout for 20mins before someone heard him and let him out.
Sounds a bit far fetched to me - getting locked inside WHL but although I didn't work with him for long, I wouldn't put it past him.
This season in the 1-0 defeat to Wigan it was
hanaike8
's first visit to white hart lane.
I think Wigan went up early 2nd half and by that time we were both a little worse for wear (on the booze since 9 am on train up) however my mate managed to not realise Wigan were ahead and clearly missed the goal and sound of 50 Wigwam fans celebrating.
Anyway, the 80 th minuet came and he looks up at the scoreboard and said "look, the boards got the score wrong it is says 1-0" ... :harryfacepalm:
Safe to say, the day went downhill from there.
We did however have a top day out, that's what footballs about, singing drinking and having a laugh- that's what TFC has taught me at the very least- even on a day where you get beat by Wigan at home 1-0; success is secondary!
hanaike8
's first visit to white hart lane. I think Wigan went up early 2nd half and by that time we were both a little worse for wear (on the booze since 9 am on train up) however my mate managed to not realise Wigan were ahead and clearly missed the goal and sound of 50 Wigwam fans celebrating.
Anyway, the 80 th minuet came and he looks up at the scoreboard and said "look, the boards got the score wrong it is says 1-0" ... :harryfacepalm:
Safe to say, the day went downhill from there.
We did however have a top day out, that's what footballs about, singing drinking and having a laugh- that's what TFC has taught me at the very least- even on a day where you get beat by Wigan at home 1-0; success is secondary!