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Greatest Away Trips


JoeBuck01
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I think mine was Oxford in March 87…it started at New Street where all the trains got cancelled and about 50 of us kicked up such a stink, that the British Transport Police put on an impromptu “Special” to Oxford, with two ropey old carriages.

 

we get to the beautiful Manor Ground ( built like a Subbetto set with a new Stand each year) and the Coach scals chased the local lads round the ground. It seemed unnecessary to us. After the match, which we won 3-2 and nah nah nah Spackman made his debut, we heard down the hill through Oxford.

 

the coach scals go home sticking vs to anyone they see behind their windows. In the meantime, the local youths, chastened , decide to pick off any red they see walking through the town.  It’s cowardly, but there’s quite a few Somerset reds who got punched that day and when we all amassed at the Station, there’s a gang of locals throwing bricks, hitting lots of parked cars. Despite lots of Police trying to persuade us to get on the first train to Leamington we head back into the Town, chasing and taking out anyone we caught with,.

 

About 20 of us ended up in a student boozer until 9pm, we missed our Crewe connection, and ended up at Lime Street at 7am on the Sunday  morning.  After the Specials disappeared in 85, it became rarer to have a decent crack on British Rail, who basically hated football fans, but we got away with one that day.

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Chelsea (a) Feb 2011

 

Days after selling Torres we went to Stamford Bridge. Went down on the Friday with my dad and a lad from our local. First night ended up in a pub near the bridge trying to get into a central American barmaids knickers after she invited me to a rock venue when she finished (howl in the moon or something) with loads of her southern mates buying me drinks. I went the bar and saw the prices for my round and just fucked off back to the hotel and had a wank. 

 

Next day as we were heading for some breakfast the lad we were with let out an awful loud fart as some fella walked behind him with his head down. He went spare ranting about someone farting in his face. When he realised we were scousers he was sound because he was West Ham and left us with, "You better beat those cunts today after farting in my fawking face!"

 

All day drinking and then to the game. It was the most rabid I'd ever been to before or since. Everyone was ready to tear the head off Torres. I had to stop my dad from going on the pitch. Stewards trying to take banners of people getting told to fuck off. Agger elbowing Torres. The goal going in was a mental celebration. There were loads of pics of us giving Torres the finger and celebrating. 

 

We'd met up with my uncle who lives down there and as the fans were leaving scuffles broke out with Chelsea fans running at our fans. We lost my uncle, but found him standing next to a police van. Over the years this has evolved to him holding the hands of a policewoman and his protests of, "It was just bright so you could see it!" Don't wash. 

 

From the ground was hairy. Chelsea Gammons everywhere looking for scousers, it was the first time I'd seen a grown man roll his sleeves up for a fight. 

 

Ended up in a pub with a glass cheese room, menu with thousands of cheeses and we kept winding the cheese man up asking for babybels, dairylea and cheese strings. 

 

One of those weekends where you don't stop laughing from start to finish. It was the fart what won it. 

 

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Luton 3-5 FA Cup Jan 2006.

 

There wasn’t much that great about it but we seemed to drive round Luton for ages trying to find a pub that let in away fans. Stumbled on some working men’s pub & some old guy on the door said “Sorry lads… **dramatic pause, we’re all fearing the worst** …I’m gonna have to charge you all a pound to come in”.

 

It was just a cracking day and everybody in our posse was on top form. 
 

The game was quite entertaining as well.

 

Despite seeing us win all over Europe (top red me!), that game still easily ranks in my top 10 games. 
 

Still, Luton, what a fucking shit hole. 

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Not sure if it counts as away but arsenal at Cardiff in 01and the semi against the shite were 2 of the best days out I've ever had.

The league cup final against utd aswell.

Still the cops don't matter do they John?

Utd in 05 and the little mini riot outside was quite amusing.

 

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2 hours ago, tokyojoe said:

Too many to mention, I will come back to this.

 

But Wolves, May 1976. Oh fucking yes.

Skipped off at afternoon break with my dad as accomplice parked around the corner from school. Couldn't get in to Molineux and had to listen outside to updates from a guy with a radio and the crowd noise. Got in when they opened the gates at three-quarter time and ended up stood on some disgruntled Wolves fan's seat and was in ecstasy as the goals finally arrived. The motorway was chocker on the way home and you could hear YNWA drifting from all of the car windows for miles.

 

That and Kenny's goal at Chelsea in 1986.

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3 hours ago, tokyojoe said:

Too many to mention, I will come back to this.

 

But Wolves, May 1976. Oh fucking yes.

I was at Uni in Brum at the time, so it was only up the road to get to. Only just got in, mind, sooooo many Scousers there that night.

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Rome '77 for me. Dined out on so many stories from that week (left Lime St at about 6pm Mondy night, got back very late Friday night).

Sometime during a booze-fuelled afternoon, Pete announces he's lost his leather jacket, presumably in one of the bars we'd been in. 'Don't worry', says one of the other lads, 'it was a shit jacket anyway'. 'Maybe so', says Pete, 'but it's got me passport in it'. Long story, short, he somehow managed to get some kind of temporary pass from the consulate to get him home again. I think they were desperate to see the back of us all.

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Salford Cunts 1983. We had a very large but totally orderly queue to get into the scoreboard end or Warwick Road end or whatever the fuck they call it and this shower of dickheads come charging around from the Stretford End shouting 'oonited. oonited'.

 

We all just stood and laughed, most including me just folded our arms. They ran away.

 

Into the ground and about 20 minutes before KO a military grade rocket flare was fired from our end, obviously aimed at the poxy Stretford End but missed and hit the directors box.

 

Game finished 1-1. Walsh scored for us.

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2 hours ago, tokyojoe said:

Salford Cunts 1983.

Was in the old scoreboard end that day myself, that 'flare' or whatever, fucking hell. It was more like a surface to air missile.

We'd been having a few bevvies in Manc City centre then got the train at Oxford Rd down to the ground, as we neared Old Trafford our train got bricked by a load of scals who were just walking down the railway line.

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3 hours ago, tokyojoe said:

Salford Cunts 1983. We had a very large but totally orderly queue to get into the scoreboard end or Warwick Road end or whatever the fuck they call it and this shower of dickheads come charging around from the Stretford End shouting 'oonited. oonited'.

 

We all just stood and laughed, most including me just folded our arms. They ran away.

 

Into the ground and about 20 minutes before KO a military grade rocket flare was fired from our end, obviously aimed at the poxy Stretford End but missed and hit the directors box.

 

Game finished 1-1. Walsh scored for us.

The jumbo that flew over and all our end pointed up like that scene from close encounters with the ship in the desert.

 

Another flare was fired in the stand right behind us, we were on the rhs corner. It was moyder. A spitting war ensued. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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London trips were always the best as were Euro aways, edgy. Shite now, sterile and sanitized to fuck. Getting off at Euston from the ordinary was always a great feeling. West Ham was my personal favourite for edgy boss trips, always a nervy giggle on them. 

 

Havent had a great away in 10+ years. 

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10 hours ago, tokyojoe said:

Too many to mention, I will come back to this.

 

But Wolves, May 1976. Oh fucking yes.

My old man used to tell me about this glorious night said the locals for years still called it the 'Noight uv the red terrror' How many did we take down there? Looked like half the ground on the old footage.

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7 hours ago, DaveT said:

Rome '77 for me. Dined out on so many stories from that week (left Lime St at about 6pm Mondy night, got back very late Friday night).

Sometime during a booze-fuelled afternoon, Pete announces he's lost his leather jacket, presumably in one of the bars we'd been in. 'Don't worry', says one of the other lads, 'it was a shit jacket anyway'. 'Maybe so', says Pete, 'but it's got me passport in it'. Long story, short, he somehow managed to get some kind of temporary pass from the consulate to get him home again. I think they were desperate to see the back of us all.

Me too lad, sportsman pub before the train and we all had jam butties that surprisingly dave Kirkby ma made.

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10 hours ago, Chip Butty said:

London trips were always the best as were Euro aways, edgy. Shite now, sterile and sanitized to fuck. Getting off at Euston from the ordinary was always a great feeling. West Ham was my personal favourite for edgy boss trips, always a nervy giggle on them. 

 

Havent had a great away in 10+ years. 

 

I loved The Bolyen Ground, it was a mixture of open hostility and glorious high camp.

 

Could never take 'em seriously when they talk like Dick van Dyke and blow fucking bubbles, but always weary that you could get your head kicked in at any point.

 

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Leeds 1975.

 

We were one nil up until injury time then Kevin nutted home the winner.

 

Our lot were actually singing ' we want an escort'. It really was that bad walking back to Leeds Central then, despite there being about 15,000 of us.

 

Some nutjob was walking around the station wielding a fucking claw hammer. The platform where the specials were waiting to get back to Limey were being pelted with everything imaginable.

 

Fucking nightmare the place was. OT was a teddy bears picknic.

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