|
MIDDLESBROUGH v VfB STUTTGART - BLAST FROM THE PAST
These memories first appeared on the New Holgate messageboard in the bleary hours of Friday morning, mere hours after the game in Germany. We felt they were so good that they were worth sharing once more.
Retro Barker
Well where do I start - from leaving Teesside on Wednesday morning? Well, the first beer was before 9am!
At the airport we found out that the players were leaving half an hour after us. We managed to see Mark Schwarzer enter the gents toilet, to which my mate shouts "Don't drop it". Schwarz shook his head.
The flight flew by (poor joke, I know) - the highlight being a bloke in front asking for twenty cans of lager. The stewardess thought the bloke was joking! He wasn't.
On arriving at the hotel there was a stampede to the bar. One poor fella, serving eighty plus English piss-heads was amusing. He had to call in reinforcements - too fucking right and all!
The hotel was away from the city centre, so getting the tram in was like the blind leading the blind. We managed to pick up a couple of young stragglers on the way (these two lads I'll tell you about later). Once we had arrived in the centre the hunt was on to find pubs and bars quick!
The first we landed in was the Old Ascot. What a find this was as it was full of Boro already. The crack was good and the lager was flowing, I was introduced to a drink called Ingermiester, which was some kind of liquor rocket fuel. Great stuff!
Anyway I wanted to find Sophies and Biddys. So we set off looking for them. Jesus, someone didn't say they were a fucking ten mile hike from the station. We had to stop a copper at one point and ask him where the place was. "150 meters" he said. It was more like fifteen bloody miles. Turns out Biddys was shut as well!
We were already drunk when we landed in Sophies but I remember that the beer/lager wasn't too good in there. Meanwhile that cloudy beer played havoc with me guts. The good point was that the bar staff kept forgetting to charge! Harry C and Captain Scarlet turned up. The banter was flowing. Songs were sung.
The night that followed consisted of circa twelve bars and too many lagers to count: Sixteen Ingermiesters (we think), one drunk Boro fan dancing naked (not me), one fat cigar, two ejections from pubs (we managed to clear two other pubs as well), one fat American geezer (who was a tosser), one argument with a German nutter, one drunk Gary Pallister and Fleming in tow, 140 euros blown and a kebab to top it off. It was a good night.
Thursday - Match Day
Rose at 10-ish for brekkie. This was a struggle to keep down. We went into town after but I couldn't get pissed as I was driving home from the airport - I certainly got caught offside by my mates on that one. Gutted. Anyway, I watched my mates get severely arseholed whilst the BBC cameras turned up in the Old Ascot and asked me to lead the singing. For the record, I made it on Look North that night, I was well spotted. My phone did not stop. Didn't have a chance to get my COB T-shirt on the box. There was one bloke in there who put a jacket over his head. It turns out he was off work on the sick! He got well tortured.
The two young lads who tagged along yesterday turned up with more bottles of Ingermiester, which got drunk by my mates. These two were 16/17 max, but had hollow legs for England.
We went back to the hotel at six-ish to put our bags on the coach and we set off from the hotel about an hour later go to the stadium. By this time, the two young lads were legless, and bought another bottle of Ingermiester for the coach ride to the ground. This got drunk, and one of the lads barfed his guts up all over himself, the chair and the steps to the toilet of the bus. It stunk. This was funny only to the people who were REALLY drunk.
At the ground, (I'll rename it Colditz - talk about been caged in) there was nowhere to go so we decided we'll go the long way round, to see the sights as we had got there early. Problem was that there were no sights, apart from a scarf stall and a pizza van with no lights.
I decided I'll go into the stadium and leave the troops to their own devices. This too was a mistake. The next time I saw my mates, one had his arm bandaged up, ripped jeans and blood all over his clothes. Another had no bandage, but had blood pissing out of his arm/hand (this was the lad who had been sick). Another didn't turn up till twenty minutes into the game - it turns out he was in the home end bar chanting Boro songs. The lads with the blood had decided to scale the high fences, but didn't count on the razor spikes. They were well and truly skewered. Those who saw them couldn't believe it.
The atmosphere was good, I was spotted again on TV. After the game, we herded on to the bus and the driver kicked off about the lad who was sick. Bah, only young pups! We got to the airport, which was over-policed and was a piss take. Then we went home.
I arrived at home three-ish this morning, got up at 6.30, and have been at work since - seven hours sleep in forty-eight is not bad going. Can't wait (hopefully) for Rome.
Bob End
One from the one-day team.
Got a taxi at around half five to go to the airport. The place was full of poor bugger desert rats going back to Iraq; well impressed with the press they were.
The seats on the plane were arranged for Jimmy Clitheroe, so I didn't enjoy the flight. Also my glasses fell to pieces, rather buggering matters as my mate Sue had forgotten hers.
We were bussed to the centre of Stuttgart. The main street leads away from the station & is a pleasant enough area but has no soul or interest, with wall to wall shops etc. We arrived at Sophies really early and decided we were going to suss it out then leave & come back later.
Some plan! As it was we stayed from half twelve to six. Beer must have been non-alcoholic as I felt OK, apart from stealing the jacket (see elsewhere). Met Ms Curly, Fids, Steve, Adcraig, the ref, Guts, Jens, Lillibet, Harry etc.
Then we were coached to ground. The Stuttgart lads don't like their ground but it's one hell of a sight. It doubles as an athletics arena and has seats sweeping low away from the ground level. The main stand is very high indeed. The lighting was incredible, their two screens were massive & had a brilliant quality picture. Made our scoreboard look like utter shite.
I think they hate their ground because the atmosphere is difficult. I see comments on here that we were not heard, but it was as loud as hell in our end. Meanwhile we could see Stuttgart singing but could hardly hear them. Great flags they had. I love big, fuck-right-off flags.
Just before the match was a rollocking downpour which highlighted a big ground design fault as we were in the open queuing for food. It was like the Holgate bogs all over again.
Great result & well played Boro. We were surrounded by fans who were ALL absolutely pissed & to be a grump, I'm not into it. Some of the chants by some of these people were severely offensive. Shitheads who make me ashamed of my country & my town.
We were bussed straight off to airport. Get away Retro man; some of those women coppers were bloody lovely!! Plane held up waiting for selfish wankers who got an extremely funny tirade of abuse when they turned up.
Was in me pit by 2:15. Felt a bit randy but Small End was in the spot where Mrs Big End sleeps, so avoided getting a clout.
Monty
Well another European excursion over and after last night's successful outcome I hope it won't be the last.
Feeling a little groggy after getting up at 3am to set off for home. Only got back about an hour ago and already feeling the strain of drinking incessantly for two days all in the cause of watching the Boro.
Met a fair few of the COB members in Sophies as arranged including Steve, Lil, Andy Craig, Fids, Ms Curly, Harry Bobend and of course Guts and Jens. I also met Retro at the stadium.
Good fun was had by all and hopefully we can do it all over again in either Rome or Brussels with a few extra members to swell the crew.
Fuck I need some sleep!!
Harry Callaghan
Unfortunately I couldn't hang around Sophies for long because for some reason my flight options said we had to go back to the hotel to load our own bags on to the bus. That bolloxed up my schedule. Apologies to Monty, Fids, Guts and Jens who I had not met before. I did not have much of a chance to make your acquaintance but hopefully this may be remedied in Rome. My Stuttgart story is similar to Retro's but I'm probably three pints behind him. Oh and this is a first, I actually got thrown out of a salty seadog bar at 3.30am for the crime of HAVING ALL MY CLOTHES on. Strange but true.
BACK TO STUTTGART MATCH PROGRAMME INDEX
|
|
|
|
