Another game at Upton Park, i dropped my fag on the terrace. About three minutes later i was shouting in pain and trying to rip my shoe off as the fag had someone gone in my trainer.
Watford away and little( (Lloyd?) tried running under the side barrier into the 'no-man's land' bit one time too many. Ended up with him being half and half under the barrier as a game of tug of war broke out with a few of us pulling his arms and a few old bill pulling his legs. Think we won!
We had Reading away during the prem days in a pre season friendly, we won 4-3 think it was well early 00s as I was about 13. Me and my mate assumed tickets would be cheap and had about £20 between us, went up to get two tickets "that'll be £26 please". We're thinking bollocks we've got the train all this way and can't even get in. Behind us in the queue was a party of 49 Americans (no idea why they was at this game) who had 50 tickets of course. "Here you go guys you can have our spare". What a nice chap...
Another game at Upton Park, i dropped my fag on the terrace. About three minutes later i was shouting in pain and trying to rip my shoe off as the fag had someone gone in my trainer.
Watford away and little( (Lloyd?) tried running under the side barrier into the 'no-man's land' bit one time too many. Ended up with him being half and half under the barrier as a game of tug of war broke out with a few of us pulling his arms and a few old bill pulling his legs. Think we won!
I take it he's not known as little Lloyd anymore?!
Boro away in 1991 and few lads bought white beany hats at the services on the way up. They then added CAFC badges to them with red and black felt tip and for a time were known by my lot as the 'white hat brigade'.
Coming home from Bradford after a cup replay with a very dodgy driver who managed to clip the wall of the Blackwall Tunnel a few times.
What about the time when the whole ground including the Ref thought that Colchester had scored when if memory serves CP had words with the 4th official and we ended up with a drop ball on the edge of their area. Please add if you had a clue what went on and why.
Also remember the memorable trip to Old Trafford for the last game of the 1989/90 season when we were already relegated but there was an amazing atmosphere as we were wishing them well in the forthcoming FA Cup Final v Palace. For some reason I'd decided to go dressed as Batman and - emboldened by obscene amounts of best bitter - was dancing joyously around the terraces as thousands of United fans in the adjacent pen sang: "Batman is a w******r, Batman is a w******r, la la la la. La la la la (to the tune of 'let's all do the conga). I lapped it up as it was all good-natured fun.
I remember the pub beforehand when a small child ran across the bar area, shouted "hey batman", and punched you in the B@**@x!!
Great afternoon, I stupidly dressed up as a prison convict, this just after the Strangeways prison riot. Got a few choice words from the OB on duty that day who obviously thought I was taking the p!$$. Was made worthwhile as the Man Utd fans chanted "Strangeways hero" at me. Seem to remember a mate dressed up as Robin (as in Batman & Robin), he was less lucky as the locals launced into several choruses of "Robin is a rent boy....etc etc".
Another game at Upton Park, i dropped my fag on the terrace. About three minutes later i was shouting in pain and trying to rip my shoe off as the fag had someone gone in my trainer.
Watford away and little( (Lloyd?) tried running under the side barrier into the 'no-man's land' bit one time too many. Ended up with him being half and half under the barrier as a game of tug of war broke out with a few of us pulling his arms and a few old bill pulling his legs. Think we won!
Yes, it was a Sunday, it was early season, probably September.
I remember the game well, it was a lovely day and all was right with the world.
I went with some mates including my "Don Juan" mate, called Paddy.
We left the game and went to the 18th birthday of the friend of my then girlfriend, very attractive girl called Lucy in Sydenham.
Drink was taken through the day and when it was "Cutting the Cake" time nobody could find Paddy or Lucy - who had only met that day.
So, Lucy's Dad - 50s Daily Telegraph type reader - turns the music off and says very loudly, "If we can all just hold the noise I am sure we an find young Lucy."
Silence ensued for a few seconds before the still night aire bore the sounds of teenage passion from the bedroom emanating from above the assembled throng.
Also remember the memorable trip to Old Trafford for the last game of the 1989/90 season when we were already relegated but there was an amazing atmosphere as we were wishing them well in the forthcoming FA Cup Final v Palace.
IIRC they taunted us with "you're going down" chants and we responded by hoping that they'd beat Palace in the FA Cup Final, there was a sort of pause as they registered what we were saying and then they joined in.
What about the time when the whole ground including the Ref thought that Colchester had scored when if memory serves CP had words with the 4th official and we ended up with a drop ball on the edge of their area. Please add if you had a clue what went on and why.
Anyone remember the away games in the 80's where the driver insisted on going to the most expensive servicies on the M1, yes rothersthorpe, he didnt get care got a back hander
Has to be Lewis coaches and was one of the drivers named Ted, small fat with a round face had a drink whilst waiting for the game to finish and used to drive through the Blackwall Tunnel like Lewis Hamilton on speed. There must be quite a few who remember him
Think we had a drink while watching most games in the 70s and think you have forgoten his name.Also better driver than Lewis Hamilton.
Another game at Upton Park, i dropped my fag on the terrace. About three minutes later i was shouting in pain and trying to rip my shoe off as the fag had someone gone in my trainer.
Watford away and little( (Lloyd?) tried running under the side barrier into the 'no-man's land' bit one time too many. Ended up with him being half and half under the barrier as a game of tug of war broke out with a few of us pulling his arms and a few old bill pulling his legs. Think we won!
Yes, it was a Sunday, it was early season, probably September.
I remember the game well, it was a lovely day and all was right with the world.
I went with some mates including my "Don Juan" mate, called Paddy.
We left the game and went to the 18th birthday of the friend of my then girlfriend, very attractive girl called Lucy in Sydenham.
Drink was taken through the day and when it was "Cutting the Cake" time nobody could find Paddy or Lucy - who had only met that day.
So, Lucy's Dad - 50s Daily Telegraph type reader - turns the music off and says very loudly, "If we can all just hold the noise I am sure we an find young Lucy."
Silence ensued for a few seconds before the still night aire bore the sounds of teenage passion from the bedroom emanating from above the assembled throng.
Also remember the memorable trip to Old Trafford for the last game of the 1989/90 season when we were already relegated but there was an amazing atmosphere as we were wishing them well in the forthcoming FA Cup Final v Palace. For some reason I'd decided to go dressed as Batman and - emboldened by obscene amounts of best bitter - was dancing joyously around the terraces as thousands of United fans in the adjacent pen sang: "Batman is a w******r, Batman is a w******r, la la la la. La la la la (to the tune of 'let's all do the conga). I lapped it up as it was all good-natured fun.
I remember the pub beforehand when a small child ran across the bar area, shouted "hey batman", and punched you in the B@**@x!!
Great afternoon, I stupidly dressed up as a prison convict, this just after the Strangeways prison riot. Got a few choice words from the OB on duty that day who obviously thought I was taking the p!$$. Was made worthwhile as the Man Utd fans chanted "Strangeways hero" at me. Seem to remember a mate dressed up as Robin (as in Batman & Robin), he was less lucky as the locals launced into several choruses of "Robin is a rent boy....etc etc".
What about the time when the whole ground including the Ref thought that Colchester had scored when if memory serves CP had words with the 4th official and we ended up with a drop ball on the edge of their area. Please add if you had a clue what went on and why.
I'm still confused even after reading that report. Bizarre refereeing.
I remember it quite clearly and the BBC report isn't quite right. What happened was this...
Colchester player goes through on goal, and lino raises flag. Colchester player shoots and Hamer dives. Ref sees lino's flag and blows whistle, before the ball crosses the line. Lino changes his mind and puts flag down. Ball crosses line. Ref speaks to lino, lino presumably says no offside, ref awards goal. CP speaks to 4th official. Ref rules out goal and gives dropped ball.
I can only assume that what CP pointed out to the 4th official was that the ref had blown his whistle before the ball crossed the line, thus stopping play, and therefore the goal could not have stood. Incredibly unfair on Colchester, but given what had happened he had no choice.
Very poor refereeing all round - the ref should have either blown before the shot was taken, or, if he didn't see the flag, could have waited and then ruled out the goal. Generally I'm in favour of refs blowing early, but the blow up while the shot was in flight was ridiculous.
I achieved an ambition in a nothing Championship game a few years ago when I was sitting in the West Lower a few rows up from the tunnel.
The game was coming to a tame close when the opposition full back sliced his clearance. The ball spun high then dipped towards me - I lifted my late 40s ageing body to it's full height, strained my neck muscles and headed it back towards the Charlton player trotting up to take the throw. Only downside was that the header was a bit scuffy so the ball bounced twice before it reached the thrower who waited for it to reach him as if to accentuate it's weakness.
Bloke behind said 'Good 'ead mate!' so I'll take that but he may have been sarky.
Also remember the memorable trip to Old Trafford for the last game of the 1989/90 season when we were already relegated but there was an amazing atmosphere as we were wishing them well in the forthcoming FA Cup Final v Palace. For some reason I'd decided to go dressed as Batman and - emboldened by obscene amounts of best bitter - was dancing joyously around the terraces as thousands of United fans in the adjacent pen sang: "Batman is a w******r, Batman is a w******r, la la la la. La la la la (to the tune of 'let's all do the conga). I lapped it up as it was all good-natured fun.
I remember the pub beforehand when a small child ran across the bar area, shouted "hey batman", and punched you in the B@**@x!!
Great afternoon, I stupidly dressed up as a prison convict, this just after the Strangeways prison riot. Got a few choice words from the OB on duty that day who obviously thought I was taking the p!$$. Was made worthwhile as the Man Utd fans chanted "Strangeways hero" at me. Seem to remember a mate dressed up as Robin (as in Batman & Robin), he was less lucky as the locals launced into several choruses of "Robin is a rent boy....etc etc".
Relegation party?
That's the one - still have a great pic with myself and Bermuda Red on the terraces at Old Trafford taken by Tom Morris. Will try and dig it out and post.
I once took a bird to Millwall away , I was 17 ish think ... Why I did that anyway I will never know... . Right behind the goal and just before kick off loads of Charlton turn up and it all gets a bit lively but no prob . The old classic ' the referees a w..ker' gets an airing and as I'm doing the sign I get my collar felt by PC plod and marched off the terracing for doing so . I shout at her to follow me out and in the chaos my Dad and his mate ( who I did nt know were there ) see what is going on so my Dad gets involved ... The next thing I remember as the coppers are marching me down the stairs is turning round to see my Dad having a punch up with them at the top . We both get pulled into the make shift station thing that was there at the time and bascially get a bollocking from the duty sergeant . I remember my Dad whispering to me ' Don't tell your Mum about this ' ....
During this time - I found out later - that my Dads mate was looking after my girlfriend as she was upset and did nt really know what was going on . She said to him ' What are they going to do with them ? ' to which he replied ' Oh not a lot just probably eject them ' . This made her worse and she asked him in tears ' Oh god , what are they going to inject them with ? '..... We split up soon after
Viewfinder sorry to confuse you again, but why did the ref restart the game with a drop ball
Hmm. I'm floundering a bit. Let's forget for a moment that the ball entered the goal, and imagine that the ref mistakenly blows for an infringement in open play: as soon as he whistles he realises he has made an error. The whistle signifies a halt to the game, so how does he restart it? Clearly neither team has committed an offence, so no free kick; the only option for restarting is the dropped ball. And he may have considered booking himself for the calumny!
I once took a bird to Millwall away , I was 17 ish think ... Why I did that anyway I will never know... . Right behind the goal and just before kick off loads of Charlton turn up and it all gets a bit lively but no prob . The old classic ' the referees a w..ker' gets an airing and as I'm doing the sign I get my collar felt by PC plod and marched off the terracing for doing so . I shout at her to follow me out and in the chaos my Dad and his mate ( who I did nt know were there ) see what is going on so my Dad gets involved ... The next thing I remember as the coppers are marching me down the stairs is turning round to see my Dad having a punch up with them at the top . We both get pulled into the make shift station thing that was there at the time and bascially get a bollocking from the duty sergeant . I remember my Dad whispering to me ' Don't tell your Mum about this ' ....
During this time - I found out later - that my Dads mate was looking after my girlfriend as she was upset and did nt really know what was going on . She said to him ' What are they going to do with them ? ' to which he replied ' Oh not a lot just probably eject them ' . This made her worse and she asked him in tears ' Oh god , what are they going to inject them with ? '..... We split up soon after
Brilliant! You've got a great Dad, pitching in on your behalf. My old man took me to Millwall v Charlton in 1966 when I was a nipper and we had just moved to Greenwich. He was alarmed by the simmering violence at the old Den, and pointed me in the direction of The Valley thereafter.
I once took a bird to Millwall away , I was 17 ish think ... Why I did that anyway I will never know... . Right behind the goal and just before kick off loads of Charlton turn up and it all gets a bit lively but no prob . The old classic ' the referees a w..ker' gets an airing and as I'm doing the sign I get my collar felt by PC plod and marched off the terracing for doing so . I shout at her to follow me out and in the chaos my Dad and his mate ( who I did nt know were there ) see what is going on so my Dad gets involved ... The next thing I remember as the coppers are marching me down the stairs is turning round to see my Dad having a punch up with them at the top . We both get pulled into the make shift station thing that was there at the time and bascially get a bollocking from the duty sergeant . I remember my Dad whispering to me ' Don't tell your Mum about this ' ....
During this time - I found out later - that my Dads mate was looking after my girlfriend as she was upset and did nt really know what was going on . She said to him ' What are they going to do with them ? ' to which he replied ' Oh not a lot just probably eject them ' . This made her worse and she asked him in tears ' Oh god , what are they going to inject them with ? '..... We split up soon after
I thought you was going to say that your dad's mate cracked on with your GF.
After the Ipswich play off win at The Valley getting us to Wembley, we decided (after more than a few beers) to put a traffic cone on the shelf above the club shop entrance.
My mate, on another's shoulders, successfully managed it, before toppling backwards and falling on his head.
Great thread! Reading it reminded me of an email I sent to a few people at work the day after we beat Arsenal at Highbury a few years back. Apologies for length - I was very bored at work in those days - so if you've got anything better to do, feel free to ignore it.
Arsenal 2 Charlton Athletic 4. I wept.
> Background
April 2000, a South London pub. Having enjoyed the Nationwide 1st Division 'clash' between Charlton Athletic and Portsmouth. After the game, conversation turns to how well Charlton would fare in the Premiership once our inevitable promotion had been achieved. Fuelled by the comforting influence of alcohol, a bet was struck between myself and a friend I shall call Steve, an Arsenal season-ticket holder. Steve bet £20 that we would not finish in the top 14 of the Premiership in our first season. So confident was I, we went to double-or-quits, and I bet further that not only would we finish in the top 14, we would also take at least a point from Arsenal that year - £40 on the table. Steve dubbed me ESP - Easy Six Points. Come May 2001, and helped by our finishing 9th and with a spectacularly bad Nelson Vivas penalty in the game at the Valley ensuring a 1-0 victory for my chaps, I had won the bet. So when the fixtures came out for the season, I contacted Steve and asked that he consider the purchase of my ticket for our Highbury visit a suitable debt settlement. He kindly agreed.
>The fans
As Sunday November 4 came around, I felt a deep sense of foreboding. And almightily hungover. I knew I was going to have to see my boys take a hammering at the home of one of the best teams in the country. Worse than that, I was going to have to do it surrounded by annoying 'Gooners', exhorting their fellow brain-deads to 'Stand up if you hate Tottenham'. I vowed to myself that every time Arsenal scored, I would not stand up (unless I was standing up already) and I would absolutely not applaud. I knew we would get annihilated. 2 weeks previously I had gone to Derby to see us scrape a draw against the worst Premiership side I had ever seen - apart from the Derby County sides of the previous two years. If we couldn't beat them, what chance did we have against Arsenal at Highbury ?
Buying my lucky strawberry bon-bons on the way, I dragged myself to the pub where I was to meet Steve and my friend ‘Jez’, also a Gooner. They were understandably bullish about the chances of a home victory. Steve predicted 6-2. I would have settled for that - I had 7-1. We take our seats in the North Bank and as the teams emerged, I was clear that I was only supporting the Men in Black. And very fetching we looked too. I had no time for the Red and White fancy-dans and their distinctly odd supporters, many of whom were gathered around Jez and me. There was Muppet-Man. Everyone was a muppet to him - the Ref. His assistants. Tottenham. There was Bobble-Hat Man, a foul-mouthed individual whose only means of communication was to stand up and shout profanities, and The Soloist, a man who desperately tried to exhort others to take up his chants but didn't seem too bothered by being ignored. His girlfriend, however, grew steadily more embarrassed as he got louder, until she ended up facing me more than the game.
>The game
3.00 - 3.02: The game kicks off and I'm pleased to see us enjoy a good opening 2 minutes, looking assured as we hoof the ball into touch for no reason. 3.05: Arsenal hit the post and have a shot cleared off the line after 3 minutes. We really are going to get stuffed. 3.07: Arsenal take the lead, no surprises. Crowd not hugely excited - obviously expecting it. 3.08 - 3.30: Arsenal carve out chance after chance - they contrive to miss them all. We gamely try to get into the game - keep failing. 3.31: The Soloist: 'Giovanni Van Bronckhorst, tra-la-la-la-la (to the tune of Brown Girl In The Ring) - that's what we should sing', he says to his appalled girlfriend. He sang alone. Bobble Hat Man: 'Charlton really are s**t.' 3.32: Muppet Man after a good bit of work by Grimandi: 'Nice one, Mr Average'. He didn't seem too bothered that he was the only fan to use this rubbish nickname. 3.33: Anonymous man in the crowd as Arsenal dominate: 'Go on Arsenal, you can win this!' General agreement that his sarcasm makes this the best shout of the day so far. 3.34: Charlton awarded a dubious free kick, flagged by the referee’s assistant, a Ms Wendy Toms. MM: Muppet. She's a muppet. 3.35: From the free kick, Steve Brown rises like a salmon (ok he didn't get off the ground) to nod past a flailing Richard Wright. As I thought that his equaliser would have very little bearing on the result and would probably just make Arsenal angry, my first thought was that all my competitors in my FFL who had Ashley Cole in their teams would have just lost points. Then by way of celebration I punched myself in the leg and kept my fist in my mouth. BHM: That f*****g b***h! She's ruined my day! S**g. F*****g sl*t! 3.43: Charlton awarded another free kick in a similar position. Ball comes in, Arsenal keeper punches it into his own net. Laugh? I nearly couldn't help myself. We were 2-1 up!!! MM: Grimandi, you muppet! BHM: Linesman (her gender obviously lost on him), if I see you outside I'm going to have you. F****g lesbian! Why aren't you at home cooking your husband's dinner?!! Apoplectic is not the word. MM: Linesman, you're a muppet! B***h! BHM: How can we be 2-1 down to this lot? They're f*****g s**t! They're a bunch of f****g window-cleaners! 3.47: Half-time. I’m happy. Jez not so. I pop a bon-bon in my mouth.
> 2nd half:
4.05: Claus Jensen chips a glorious 3rd, yet another Charlton goal of the season contender – our 4-5-1 formation holding up superbly. 3-1 up, I'm still convinced we're going to lose, or maybe draw. We definitely weren't going to win. Either way, I'm desperately proud of my boys, who to be fair are now playing well and defending magnificently. BHM: 'This is all your fault, linesman. We don't f**k around with their netball, why should they come and spoil our football ? F****g s**g!' A steward approaches BHM, asking him to calm down. He points at the referee’s assistant. 'It's her !' he argues as rationally as he can manage. 'She's ruined my day. She can just...f**k off!' The steward withdraws. 4.09. Another Arsenal move breaks down, the crowd groan. Suddenly Jensen puts Euell through against the keeper - he finishes brilliantly. I look at the scoreboard. Arsenal 1 Charlton 4. Tears form in my eyes. My thigh is bruised from all the celebratory self-punching. BHM: F*****g hell! I don't f*****g believe this. 4-1 down to this pile of South London s**t! J*s*s F*****g C****t! This is all that b***h's fault. F*****g sl*t! Whore! 4.10. At this point, eyes bulging and veins throbbing, BHM is escorted from the ground by 3 policemen. His face, previously contorted with rage, betrays nothing but an ‘it’s a fair cop, guv’ expression as he is led away. I, for one, apart from the disgusting abuse, was quite sorry to see him go as I found him perversely entertaining. 4.18. Henry cheats, gets a penalty. 4-2. After that, we had chances, they had chances but we end the game the better side and only slightly flattered by victory. After all, they had 25 efforts on goal compared to our 5 but it's the ones that count that count. If you see what I mean. 4.55 MM: Muppets. They're all a bunch of f*****g Muppets!
Pub. Some celebratory Kronenbourgs. And on a day that Man Utd lost as well! How sweet a victory, how wondrous this life is. Watching the highlights later, I punch the air with every goal as our noble Men in Black take on the enemy and win. And as my weary, drunk head hits the pillow, all I could think of was the song emanating from the away fans at the opposite end of the ground, whom I so dearly wished to be among, to the tune of Mull of Kintyre. And this is why, on that beautiful November Sunday, I wept.
Keily a superb thread how the bloody hell do you remember all that, I would struggle to remember what happened at home to Doncaster apart from it rained and got called off at half time
Comments
Another game at Upton Park, i dropped my fag on the terrace. About three minutes later i was shouting in pain and trying to rip my shoe off as the fag had someone gone in my trainer.
Watford away and little( (Lloyd?) tried running under the side barrier into the 'no-man's land' bit one time too many. Ended up with him being half and half under the barrier as a game of tug of war broke out with a few of us pulling his arms and a few old bill pulling his legs. Think we won!
Boro away in 1991 and few lads bought white beany hats at the services on the way up. They then added CAFC badges to them with red and black felt tip and for a time were known by my lot as the 'white hat brigade'.
Coming home from Bradford after a cup replay with a very dodgy driver who managed to clip the wall of the Blackwall Tunnel a few times.
I'm still confused even after reading that report. Bizarre refereeing.
Great afternoon, I stupidly dressed up as a prison convict, this just after the Strangeways prison riot. Got a few choice words from the OB on duty that day who obviously thought I was taking the p!$$. Was made worthwhile as the Man Utd fans chanted "Strangeways hero" at me. Seem to remember a mate dressed up as Robin (as in Batman & Robin), he was less lucky as the locals launced into several choruses of "Robin is a rent boy....etc etc".
I remember the game well, it was a lovely day and all was right with the world.
I went with some mates including my "Don Juan" mate, called Paddy.
We left the game and went to the 18th birthday of the friend of my then girlfriend, very attractive girl called Lucy in Sydenham.
Drink was taken through the day and when it was "Cutting the Cake" time nobody could find Paddy or Lucy - who had only met that day.
So, Lucy's Dad - 50s Daily Telegraph type reader - turns the music off and says very loudly, "If we can all just hold the noise I am sure we an find young Lucy."
Silence ensued for a few seconds before the still night aire bore the sounds of teenage passion from the bedroom emanating from above the assembled throng.
You can guess what happened next.
That bloody cake looked great too!
IIRC they taunted us with "you're going down" chants and we responded by hoping that they'd beat Palace in the FA Cup Final, there was a sort of pause as they registered what we were saying and then they joined in.
'Bod' yelling out "hurry up ball-man" to a ball-boy who must have been in his 40's still tickles me to this day.
Colchester player goes through on goal, and lino raises flag.
Colchester player shoots and Hamer dives.
Ref sees lino's flag and blows whistle, before the ball crosses the line.
Lino changes his mind and puts flag down.
Ball crosses line.
Ref speaks to lino, lino presumably says no offside, ref awards goal.
CP speaks to 4th official.
Ref rules out goal and gives dropped ball.
I can only assume that what CP pointed out to the 4th official was that the ref had blown his whistle before the ball crossed the line, thus stopping play, and therefore the goal could not have stood. Incredibly unfair on Colchester, but given what had happened he had no choice.
Very poor refereeing all round - the ref should have either blown before the shot was taken, or, if he didn't see the flag, could have waited and then ruled out the goal. Generally I'm in favour of refs blowing early, but the blow up while the shot was in flight was ridiculous.
The game was coming to a tame close when the opposition full back sliced his clearance. The ball spun high then dipped towards me - I lifted my late 40s ageing body to it's full height, strained my neck muscles and headed it back towards the Charlton player trotting up to take the throw. Only downside was that the header was a bit scuffy so the ball bounced twice before it reached the thrower who waited for it to reach him as if to accentuate it's weakness.
Bloke behind said 'Good 'ead mate!' so I'll take that but he may have been sarky.
During this time - I found out later - that my Dads mate was looking after my girlfriend as she was upset and did nt really know what was going on . She said to him ' What are they going to do with them ? ' to which he replied ' Oh not a lot just probably eject them ' . This made her worse and she asked him in tears ' Oh god , what are they going to inject them with ? '..... We split up soon after
I remember Swindon away about 12/13 years ago I had big turnups on and WPC stopped me and said she was the fashion police and was arresting me !!!!
For once I was gobsmacked ....
My mate, on another's shoulders, successfully managed it, before toppling backwards and falling on his head.
Oh how we laughed.
The cone stayed there for years & years :-)
Arsenal 2 Charlton Athletic 4. I wept.
> Background
April 2000, a South London pub. Having enjoyed the Nationwide 1st Division 'clash' between Charlton Athletic and Portsmouth. After the game, conversation turns to how well Charlton would fare in the Premiership once our inevitable promotion had been achieved. Fuelled by the comforting influence of alcohol, a bet was struck between myself and a friend I shall call Steve, an Arsenal season-ticket holder. Steve bet £20 that we would not finish in the top 14 of the Premiership in our first season. So confident was I, we went to double-or-quits, and I bet further that not only would we finish in the top 14, we would also take at least a point from Arsenal that year - £40 on the table. Steve dubbed me ESP - Easy Six Points. Come May 2001, and helped by our finishing 9th and with a spectacularly bad Nelson Vivas penalty in the game at the Valley ensuring a 1-0 victory for my chaps, I had won the bet. So when the fixtures came out for the season, I contacted Steve and asked that he consider the purchase of my ticket for our Highbury visit a suitable debt settlement. He kindly agreed.
>The fans
As Sunday November 4 came around, I felt a deep sense of foreboding. And almightily hungover. I knew I was going to have to see my boys take a hammering at the home of one of the best teams in the country. Worse than that, I was going to have to do it surrounded by annoying 'Gooners', exhorting their fellow brain-deads to 'Stand up if you hate Tottenham'. I vowed to myself that every time Arsenal scored, I would not stand up (unless I was standing up already) and I would absolutely not applaud. I knew we would get annihilated. 2 weeks previously I had gone to Derby to see us scrape a draw against the worst Premiership side I had ever seen - apart from the Derby County sides of the previous two years. If we couldn't beat them, what chance did we have against Arsenal at Highbury ?
Buying my lucky strawberry bon-bons on the way, I dragged myself to the pub where I was to meet Steve and my friend ‘Jez’, also a Gooner. They were understandably bullish about the chances of a home victory. Steve predicted 6-2. I would have settled for that - I had 7-1. We take our seats in the North Bank and as the teams emerged, I was clear that I was only supporting the Men in Black. And very fetching we looked too. I had no time for the Red and White fancy-dans and their distinctly odd supporters, many of whom were gathered around Jez and me. There was Muppet-Man. Everyone was a muppet to him - the Ref. His assistants. Tottenham. There was Bobble-Hat Man, a foul-mouthed individual whose only means of communication was to stand up and shout profanities, and The Soloist, a man who desperately tried to exhort others to take up his chants but didn't seem too bothered by being ignored. His girlfriend, however, grew steadily more embarrassed as he got louder, until she ended up facing me more than the game.
>The game
3.00 - 3.02: The game kicks off and I'm pleased to see us enjoy a good opening 2 minutes, looking assured as we hoof the ball into touch for no reason.
3.05: Arsenal hit the post and have a shot cleared off the line after 3 minutes. We really are going to get stuffed.
3.07: Arsenal take the lead, no surprises. Crowd not hugely excited - obviously expecting it.
3.08 - 3.30: Arsenal carve out chance after chance - they contrive to miss them all. We gamely try to get into the game - keep failing.
3.31: The Soloist: 'Giovanni Van Bronckhorst, tra-la-la-la-la (to the tune of Brown Girl In The Ring) - that's what we should sing', he says to his appalled girlfriend. He sang alone.
Bobble Hat Man: 'Charlton really are s**t.'
3.32: Muppet Man after a good bit of work by Grimandi: 'Nice one, Mr Average'. He didn't seem too bothered that he was the only fan to use this rubbish nickname.
3.33: Anonymous man in the crowd as Arsenal dominate: 'Go on Arsenal, you can win this!' General agreement that his sarcasm makes this the best shout of the day so far.
3.34: Charlton awarded a dubious free kick, flagged by the referee’s assistant, a Ms Wendy Toms.
MM: Muppet. She's a muppet.
3.35: From the free kick, Steve Brown rises like a salmon (ok he didn't get off the ground) to nod past a flailing Richard Wright. As I thought that his equaliser would have very little bearing on the result and would probably just make Arsenal angry, my first thought was that all my competitors in my FFL who had Ashley Cole in their teams would have just lost points. Then by way of celebration I punched myself in the leg and kept my fist in my mouth.
BHM: That f*****g b***h! She's ruined my day! S**g. F*****g sl*t!
3.43: Charlton awarded another free kick in a similar position. Ball comes in, Arsenal keeper punches it into his own net. Laugh? I nearly couldn't help myself. We were 2-1 up!!!
MM: Grimandi, you muppet!
BHM: Linesman (her gender obviously lost on him), if I see you outside I'm going to have you. F****g lesbian! Why aren't you at home cooking your husband's dinner?!! Apoplectic is not the word.
MM: Linesman, you're a muppet! B***h!
BHM: How can we be 2-1 down to this lot? They're f*****g s**t! They're a bunch of f****g window-cleaners!
3.47: Half-time. I’m happy. Jez not so. I pop a bon-bon in my mouth.
> 2nd half:
4.05: Claus Jensen chips a glorious 3rd, yet another Charlton goal of the season contender – our 4-5-1 formation holding up superbly. 3-1 up, I'm still convinced we're going to lose, or maybe draw. We definitely weren't going to win. Either way, I'm desperately proud of my boys, who to be fair are now playing well and defending magnificently.
BHM: 'This is all your fault, linesman. We don't f**k around with their netball, why should they come and spoil our football ? F****g s**g!' A steward approaches BHM, asking him to calm down. He points at the referee’s assistant. 'It's her !' he argues as rationally as he can manage. 'She's ruined my day. She can just...f**k off!' The steward withdraws.
4.09. Another Arsenal move breaks down, the crowd groan. Suddenly Jensen puts Euell through against the keeper - he finishes brilliantly. I look at the scoreboard. Arsenal 1 Charlton 4. Tears form in my eyes. My thigh is bruised from all the celebratory self-punching.
BHM: F*****g hell! I don't f*****g believe this. 4-1 down to this pile of South London s**t! J*s*s F*****g C****t! This is all that b***h's fault. F*****g sl*t! Whore!
4.10. At this point, eyes bulging and veins throbbing, BHM is escorted from the ground by 3 policemen. His face, previously contorted with rage, betrays nothing but an ‘it’s a fair cop, guv’ expression as he is led away. I, for one, apart from the disgusting abuse, was quite sorry to see him go as I found him perversely entertaining.
4.18. Henry cheats, gets a penalty. 4-2. After that, we had chances, they had chances but we end the game the better side and only slightly flattered by victory. After all, they had 25 efforts on goal compared to our 5 but it's the ones that count that count. If you see what I mean.
4.55 MM: Muppets. They're all a bunch of f*****g Muppets!
Pub. Some celebratory Kronenbourgs. And on a day that Man Utd lost as well! How sweet a victory, how wondrous this life is. Watching the highlights later, I punch the air with every goal as our noble Men in Black take on the enemy and win. And as my weary, drunk head hits the pillow, all I could think of was the song emanating from the away fans at the opposite end of the ground, whom I so dearly wished to be among, to the tune of Mull of Kintyre. And this is why, on that beautiful November Sunday, I wept.
An evening of beer and adrenaline fuelled mayhem!