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[Archived] Our Football Stories


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Every now and then you'll go to a football game and whether you win or lose you'll end up having a classic football story to tell your family and friends when you get home.

I found it fascinating reading through some members memories on the football hooligan thread and it made me want to hear more stories people have had attending football games.

Bucharest

I went with some pals to the UEFA cup match between Steaua Bucharest and Southampton in Romania. Our flight was delayed quite a bit and we ended up in a rush to get to our hotel before the game. We arrived at the Athenee Palace Hilton, fed up, drenched from the rain and in a hurry with just over an hour till kick off. As we arrived, the Southampton team had checked out and were boarding the coach. We were told at reception that our rooms were double booked but somehow with a little help from the Southampton assistant manager we blagged free upgrades to the top suites. We were over the moon.

We dumped our stuff and the 5 of us flagged down a taxi and we somehow bundled into an old Dacia. If you have been to Romania then you will know just how tiny and crap these cars are! Whilst heading to the stadium we found ourselves stuck in traffic with 20 minutes until kick off. The driver told us that we probably wouldn't get there in time but after showing him some extra money he decided to drive past the traffic jam on the pavement weaving around people and other cars which had decided to do the same. The rain was so heavy it was virtually impossible to see where we were going but somehow we arrived outside the stadium. We paid the driver but instead of driving off he got out of the car and walked with us to the ground. Unbelievably he got through 2 armed police/steward checkpoints but froze on the 3rd checkpoint when a police dog went crazy at him. The police then took him away. We don't know what happened to him after that.

We managed to get into the ground as the game kicked off. We couldn't find our seats because the whole away end was overcrowded with Southampton fans. We stood in the aisle and at one point I was stood on a policeman’s boot. He didn't tell me to move because...well...I couldn't move. I wanted to because he had a massive semi-automatic in his hand and I was sh**ing myself. The Romanian crowd though were unbelievable. The noise was so loud, flares were going off everywhere. It was brilliant despite the heavy rain and Saints getting knocked out 2-1 on agg.

After being released from the pen after the match, we got another taxi home. This time we got back to the hotel smoothly but instead of being charged a few quid like previously (inc. the extra money we gave the taxi driver) the taxi driver switched off his fare computer and gave us a piece of paper with the cost of the taxi journey. He tried to rip us off and charged us over £100. We started shouting at him and we told him we would only pay him a few pounds. Stupidly my friend gave him the wrong notes and ended up giving him about 60 quid.

We spent the next few days enjoying Romania and came across some weird situations. At one point we were followed around by prostitutes, lots of beggars, a mansion which was abandoned but was now home to stray dogs and cats, some old guy wanting to swap t-shirts with me on a bus and seeing a homeless kid (looked no older than 5) sleeping rough on the train but earnt his money by dancing to strangers. We even made an old taxi man cry with joy after giving him all our change on our last day there as we couldn't swap our currency back in England.

When we checked out the hotel, they asked us if we enjoyed our luxury rooms, the spar, pool and the free bar on our floor. Free bar??? We said? Apparently anyone staying in the top suites could have any drinks they wanted in the private bar. Stupidly we spent an unbelievable amount of money (im talking hundreds and hundreds) in the public bar and the free upgrade didn't seem so free after that.

I am sure we've all got some good stories to tell. That's one of mine. What are yours?

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Think we need to get jordan on this thread, he's got a air few stories from European away games.

Lithuainia away was a fun one, I'll have to post a good report of it when I get a chance. Cologne away also brings back very happy memories indeed.

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Every now and then you'll go to a football game and whether you win or lose you'll end up having a classic football story to tell your family and friends when you get home.......

I am sure we've all got some good stories to tell. That's one of mine. What are yours?

Great tale Tim. A few of my mates went to the Romania too. Unfortunately i believe most of them buckled under the pressure of the intense prostitute following! I'm pretty sure my mate insisted on wearing his Saints shirt on the job. He did the same thing at Butlins one year after pulling a skate girl. A feeling of power i guess.

You probably recall games at the dell. I used to have a season ticket at maybe 7 yrs old (a desperate attempt by my fanatical father to make me a saint). My friend was also a ticket holder and we used to go to the matches together. The pitch was so close to the stand you could literally man handle the corner takers. I recall Gary Mc Allister taking one for Leeds and my mate running up to the bunch of youngsters trying to grab a feel of the man. He steamed in and whacked him so hard he stopped and gave him the mother of all stares. The same friend threw a meat pie at Gordon Watson during a game. He duly stopped and picked it up pretending to take a bite.

During a Southampton reserve match which was played not far from my old stomping ground, we gave an aging Robert Fleck some stick for packing a few extra pounds. He suffered it for almost 90 mins before scoring the winner with a great header. Turning to us to procalim, 'who is the fat b#####d now'? We were too young to come up with much of a response.

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Here's a quick one for you Tim.

When we played Everton away in 2005, I was lucky enough to get a free ticket and be entertained in the corporate suites in the main stand, diagonally across from the away end.

When we got there, we were greeted with a free glass of champagne, which was nice as I also got a pint of Guinness too. This set the trend for the day, as food and more relevantly drinks flowed for the next couple of hours before the match. Come 3PM we mooched up into our seats, and sat in a massive stand full of grumpy Toffees fans.

At first I was calm, and respectful of my surroundings, but as the match wore on I began to lose my inhibitions and became more and more vocal, until it became obvious to all around where my footballing allegiances lay.

At some point around the middle of the second half, some local hard nut had heard enough, and from my left I am told this guy took a massive 180 degree haymaker and landed it right on my nose. Those who have met me may say that there could be no further damage done to it, but when it exploded and blood flew every where it looked pretty grim.

But in my state of anesthetization I never flinched, remained seated and looked around slowly. rising at the assailant. As I slowly stood up, my only response were these immortal lines...

"Is that the best you can do?"

So this big Scouse nutter had given my a full on un-challenged swinging punch in the face and all that he got in return was that line from a non-pain feeling lunatic woolly-back who appeared more than able to hand it back with interest, particularly when I stood up (I'm six foot three and not a skinny lad...) .

So Scouser sees my response, looks at me, turns white, sh1ts himself and legged it as fast as he could.

I returned to my seated position, to see Johnny Stead break his goal drought and score the winner in the Park End, and as I stood up and celebrated not one person in that stand said a single word to me.

0,,10303~531974,00.jpg

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Here's a quick one for you Tim.

When we played Everton away in 2005, I was lucky enough to get a free ticket and be entertained in the corporate suites in the main stand, diagonally across from the away end.

When we got there, we were greeted with a free glass of champagne, which was nice as I also got a pint of Guinness too. This set the trend for the day, as food and more relevantly drinks flowed for the next couple of hours before the match. Come 3PM we mooched up into our seats, and sat in a massive stand full of grumpy Toffees fans.

At first I was calm, and respectful of my surroundings, but as the match wore on I began to lose my inhibitions and became more and more vocal, until it became obvious to all around where my footballing allegiances lay.

At some point around the middle of the second half, some local hard nut had heard enough, and from my left I am told this guy took a massive 180 degree haymaker and landed it right on my nose. Those who have met me may say that there could be no further damage done to it, but when it exploded and blood flew every where it looked pretty grim.

But in my state of anesthetization I never flinched, remained seated and looked around slowly. rising at the assailant. As I slowly stood up, my only response were these immortal lines...

"Is that the best you can do?"

So this big Scouse nutter had given my a full on un-challenged swinging punch in the face and all that he got in return was that line from a non-pain feeling lunatic woolly-back who appeared more than able to hand it back with interest, particularly when I stood up (I'm six foot three and not a skinny lad...) .

So Scouser sees my response, looks at me, turns white, sh1ts himself and legged it as fast as he could.

I returned to my seated position, to see Johnny Stead break his goal drought and score the winner in the Park End, and as I stood up and celebrated not one person in that stand said a single word to me.

0,,10303~531974,00.jpg

Liking that.

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But in my state of anesthetization I never flinched, remained seated and looked around slowly. rising at the assailant. As I slowly stood up, my only response were these immortal lines...

"Is that the best you can do?"

:lol: Amazing! We should get you p*ssed and enter you in the UFC. You'll be unbeatable.

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