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McALPINE STADIUM DEC. 1997
Hi, Jack here again with another trip down memory lane. And this time I am doing the Boxing Day trip to Huddersfield in 1997.
One of the posters on 606 asked me if I was one of the very drunk Boro fans at that game? Well, yes I was and here is how and why.
At the time I was living and working in Leeds and I was working right up until Christmas Eve night.
So on leaving work at around six o'clock, I made my way to Middlesbrough to spend a quiet reflective time with my family. However on arriving in Boro I made my way to the Cleveland for a quick Christmas drink with the lads.
Anyway, after several drinks with the lads I made my way to my mother's, threw my bag in and was soon on the way to sample the delights of a Christmas Eve in Boro town centre. You don't need to know everything but I was hammered and next day was the same again - smashed completely - and Mothers dinner was wonderful.
So on Boxing day I made my way back to West Yorkshire to see the Boro play with a crew of around eight or so hardy Boro fans, all full of Christmas cheer.
We set off at 11 o'clock and the drink was flowing. I was wrecked by around 11.30.
I remember we stopped at some pub on the way and I nicked the charity money box thing off the bar! Shocking, I know but to be honest it was half empty and didn't even cover a round of drinks.
We arrived in the beautiful moor side town of Huddersfield at about one and hit the pubs as soon as we got there.
I was feeling pretty amorous with the drink I had consumed, so on seeing two lovely young ladies all decked out in the blue and white of The Terriers, I made my big move. Bearing in mind that this was early afternoon in a pub in West Yorkshire on Boxing Day and not 2am in a nightclub... but my body clock was all over the place and so was I.
I don't think the young ladies quite understood my intentions because I was frog marched out of the pub by two bouncers and flung on to the pavement.
Next thing, after being told to calm down by the lads, 'or else you won't be seeing the game', we decided we needed the traditional match day burger, which was superb as usual.
The rest is a bit of a blur. We got into the ground, the game got underway and I can't remember anything apart from the vocal support from the Boro fans being amazing.
At least I think everyone else was joining in with me as I sang my full repartee of Boro songs from my youth. The fact that Bernie Slaven was not even playing and that Brucie Rioch was no longer our manager made no difference to me at all, even though Bruce couldn't give me a wave.
We scored so I am told, an own goal in the first half that in turn won us the game but to be honest we could have won 25-0 and I wouldn't have noticed.
About midway point second half I felt the call of nature, so after leaving the stand I found a nice new and clean toilet cubicle and went ahead and did what I had to do. On trying to leave I discovered that I had locked myself in. I could not open the door at all. It was stuck! - I was trapped!
So I tried to climb over the top but I was too drunk and on standing on the toilet bowl to lever myself up, my leg fell in and I was soaked in my own piss.
So my next plan was to wait for someone to come in and alert a steward or copper and come and get me out but...
I fell asleep while sitting on the bog waiting for someone to come in. The game ended and I never heard a thing. No doubt people came in after the game but it wasn't until the stewards did their after game security checks that I was discovered and set free.
On leaving the ground after a stern lecture by a Police sergeant, I knew in my heart of hearts that my mates had gone without me. I was right- they had.
So I had a dilemma. There is no public transport between West Yorkshire and Middlesbrough at six on a Boxing Day evening, so I had to make my way by taxi to my flat in Leeds but...
I had left my keys at my mothers in Middlesbrough as I was supposed to be staying at Mams for the whole Christmas period.
At this point the alcohol had started to wear off and I was feeling rough and very perplexed as I got a taxi to Leeds from Huddersfield to my place. It cost me £30 quid and the taxi driver kept complaining that he could smell piss.
Back in Leeds I still had to work out a way of breaking into my flat, which I did by smashing a window and climbing in. Great stuff however, I cut my leg on the broken glass and was dripping blood everywhere. Then my alarm went off and I couldn't quite remember the code and I was in a right state I tell you...
Took me months to get the blood stains out of that carpet. And I still have the scar on my leg.
What a game though. I think.
Up the Boro
Jack
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