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VICARAGE ROAD OCT. 1999
Hi and welcome to this weeks Jack's Flashbacks. And this week I will be going back to Vicarage Road for Watford v Boro on October 24th 1999. Now then, you all OK? Good, well I will begin.
There comes a time in every football fan's life when you have to share your love of the game and its many faults with the love of your life. By this I mean the first time you take a girlfriend to a Boro match with you.
And after many years of avoiding this by dating girls who just were not interested in football at all, I stayed quite safe and travelled the length and breadth of the country with none of this "I want to come and see what all the fuss is about" and the "well what have you got to hide?" arguments that all my footie going mates had to endure.
Anyway we go back to the time of October 1999. Robbo was still in charge and we had just got The Little Fella back on loan for the rest of the season and we were doing OK. Nothing flash, just OK.
So as I was living in London at the time I had the chance to go to a few games that season in the capital.
The girl I was with at the time was getting curious about why I wouldn't talk to her or anyone when there was a game on and why I sulked like a kid for days afterwards when we lost, so after promising her I would take her, I looked at the fixture list and there stood out Watford away, like a beacon.
Easy three points for us, no swearing at the ref, no trouble from home fans, no hassle to get smashed with mates. Just straight in and out. No bother. Simple.
Anyway the game loomed and I had tried unsuccessfully to get tickets for the main stand so I didn't have to see anyone I knew or have to get involved with any singing of "those hooligan songs they sing." Yep, this girl was posh, from Richmond and was a Rugger girl. Not into soccer at all, so why the hell she was with me and why the hell she was wanting to see the Boro I do not know.
The day of the game arrived and we were after all going in the Boro end, so that was a risk in itself. Two thousand Boro fans is not the best place for a nice girl who has lived a sheltered life and who thought I was a nice guy and that my accent was cute.
We arrived in Watford at around lunchtime and we decided to have something to eat and drink before going to the game. She was actually quite looking forward to it as she pointed out Boro fans milling around the town centre asking if I knew anyone, to which I pointed out that just because they are from the same town as me it doesn't mean I know them does it? This was to be the start of the stupid observations and questions that plagued me the whole fucking day.
We made our way to the ground and I saw Andy Gray off Sky TV. This game was live on the 4pm Sunday slot. I pointed out Mr Gray and she said she didn't recognize him so I replied well you wouldn't. He was a footballer turned commentator. Her reply was "well he might have been in something else I might have seen" ????
We took our seats quite early and I bought a programme and gave her a run down of the Boro players and my views on the attributes of each, making a point that Juninho was a genius from Brazil and he could make things happen. "Like what?" was her response. "Erm, like he can score and run with the ball better than other players" I quipped.
This was going to be hard work and I was starting to wish I had told her I wasn't going when she pointed out 'those two fat men waving at us.'
"Oh shit, they must be mistaken", I replied and told her to ignore them. "They must be drunk or somat", but as I said this my mobile rang. I looked and my mate down below had his to his ear so I knew it was him!
After explaining the situation in my broadest Teesside accent so she couldn't understand, I got a tap on the shoulder. "Alright mate". Bloody marvellous. It was my mate from Watford, pissed and with his mates and they all loved the Boro and were well up for the game and of course they sat next to us and started singing, farting, swearing, leering at my girlfriend who by now looked a tad uncomfortable and was still asking me 'what colour we were as she thought we played in red and white and there was no team in red and white playing and why not?'
After explaining the away kit situation she still looked confused and as the game kicked off and the Boro Boys where in fine voice, I joined in the 'Come on Boro's' but resisted the other more fruity chants. But that didn't stop the Boro Watford gang. No way.
"Get your tits out for the lads" was aimed at the female copper and various other sexual suggestions as to what she did with her truncheon and handcuffs in her spare time. I had to get out of here. I was going mad.
The game was a decent one. We scored and led 1-0 through an own goal but I wasn't happy at all. I felt restricted so I did the decent thing and said I wasn't well and had to leave now, just as the whistle went for half time.
My plan was as it was on Sky, I could watch in a pub nearby and just relax and not be all tense like a mad man caught between two extremes i.e, the nice Northern chap with a cute accent and the mad smog monster who can cause an argument in an empty room after a few pints.
So we left much to the worry of my girlfriend and the derision of my mates who knew exactly what my game was from the start.
We found a pub and after saying I was ill she was looking slightly suspicious as I downed two quick pints of John Smiths while the second half took shape.
I was at the bar ordering my third pint in fifteen minutes I think when The Little Fella scored and I shouted "See love, I fucking told ya he was magic!"
The look she gave me, I tell ya it could have killed and "don't you think you have had enough? After all, you said you where ill."
Watford scored, causing a few jitters and I had another pint to settle them.
When Paul Ince scored, I was delighted and shouted for joy, much to my female companion's embarrassment. "We are in a pub. If you want to shout then you should have stayed in the stadium."
We won 3-1 and I was half pissed as we made our way to Watford Junction station but she wasn't happy, telling me "that there is something funny going on here. Why did you say you where ill then drink like a fish once we got into the pub?"
I didn't care. We had won and I was delighted to see a couple of the lads at the station and we had a little sing song which she didn't like at all.
We got back to London ok with no dramas and I never heard a thing from her for days afterwards.
Until I bumped into her mate who told me that my girlfriend was very upset about the whole day because you thought she was so ugly that you couldn't let your funny Northern friends spend the day at the football with her.
Only a woman could come up with that! Crazy man I tell ya.
Anyway we split up not long after but the scars are still there and I swore then never to take a girl to a Boro game again and I have stuck to that to this day.
See ya soon
Up the Boro
Jack!!!!
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