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BURNDEN PARK APRIL 1994
Hi and welcome once again to my little portion, all about me flashing back. And a very happy Christmas to you all! This week I am going to tell you all about a trip to Bolton Wanderers in April 1994, my only ever trip to Burnden Park before they went and moved to a posh gaff, just like we did.
So anyway, this is April 1994 and we are crap, big time. We only got relegated from the Premiership the season before and we had the same squad almost. We had started OK but just became awful. And now the fans had stopped going and that meant that Lennie Lawrence was up for the chop.
This game was to coincide with one of the lads' stag night in Manchester. So you can imagine all sorts of plans and rumours were circulating about how we could get him into all sorts of compromising positions!
So early on the day of the game, about fifteen of us met at Middlesbrough train station with lots of booze and plenty of crack. We were due to meet a few other lads in Manchester before making the trip to the ground.
The train was bouncing and after the compulsory insults as you pass Bellend Road, the poor guy who was due to be wed in a few days was hammered on the vodka and by midday was soon dropping his trousers as we travelled over the Pennines. Much to our hilarity and the shock and horror of the fellow travellers.
We arrived into Manchester Piccadilly and we were met by British Transport Police who wanted to know in no uncertain terms exactly what had been going on. This was a cause of some concern as we had to find a hotel and meet the guys, not even mentioning getting to the game.
But one of our number was sharp and managed to somehow convince a fellow traveller to tell the police that we were not the ones they wanted and they should be looking for a gang of Leeds fans who had just got off at the last stop after creating havoc!
So we set off and found a hotel which I still can't remember the name or location of to this day. We met our mates and by this time stag guy (I shall call him Stuart) was not making a great deal of sense at all.
And he wasn't the only one as we had a few more liveners in Manchester city centre and collected a few more casualties of the demon drink along the way.
The short ride to Bolton was a nightmare. The local police were everywhere and very keen on anyone who looked pissed. It was enough to warrant being locked up.
So we lost about three lads as we queued for the game but amazingly Stuart was allowed in the ground after sobering up in record time!
But one of our number was turned away and then nicked when after the copper started frisking him for concealed weapons he quipped "why don't you just give me a fucking wank and be done with it?"
Funny I know, but the boys in blue didn't think so. He got a £150 fine for that if I remember correctly.
The game was shite and we got stuffed 4-1. Paul Wilkinson scored for us and we were very poor against a team who were equally as poor. Lennie had lost the plot Big time and Bryan Robson was soon to take over.
But the real reason for the trip was the stag night. We got back to Manchester and sorted ourselves for a big night. A quick head count revealed we had lost a few guys along the way but we still had Big Stu and the plan now was to get him into a gay club in Manchester and get some very dodgy pics without him realising.
So this involved a major drinking session to get him wrecked and a very covert and dangerous scouting mission into Manchester's gay section by me and another lad. We found the perfect place. It was like the Blue Oyster bar off Police Academy- leather caps, chains, handle bar moustaches, the works! Funny as fuck but very scary if you follow...
We got Stu well and truly out of it and led him to the gay club, where we convinced him to get the beers in, as we just needed to nip to the cashpoint round the corner. All ten of us at once!
We stood in the doorway and watched as a very drunken Stu made his way in, looking around and not even noticing blokes dancing with each other and the fact that Erasure was on the sound system. He ordered a few drinks and amazingly, started talking to two puffs at the bar!
We got some cracking pics of this puff in leather leaning over him smiling as they chatted quite happily and it wasn't until he made to go to the loo that we pulled him out. We just couldn't let him go through that one on his own.
Anyway as the night wore on I got lost and very drunk. This was before everyone had mobile phones. I was buggered if I could remember the name of the hotel I was in or where the fucking hell it was.
My attempts to pull a minger at the kebab shop, just so I had somewhere to kip that night failed miserably but then I met a student from Boro who was at Manchester Uni!
After explaining my situation, he said I could come back with him as he was off to a student party. I didn't need asking twice I tell ya.
The party was OK. I had a drink but felt the need to crash out so I walked into a room and there in front of me is a bare arse. The same one that I had seen on the train earlier! Big stu had pulled a student and ended up at the same party as me!
What a day out and what a guy. He got married and is still married so not a word to anyone, OK...
Take care..
All the best..
Up the Boro!
Jack
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