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ELLAND ROAD MARCH 1996
Hello. Jack here and I want to be the first to congratulate Freedom Bear on his defection to ComeOnBoro.com.
And in his honour I was going to write my entire column in his third person style but after careful thought, I couldn't be fucking arsed.
And furthermore, I would like to remind this bear geezer that I was the first animal columnist on this site (after Packwolf) and he had better not get clever like that Up The Boro Man chap did last week, OK?
Anyway I suppose I had better write a little bit on me getting pissed, shagging birds and watching Boro.
So here we go and it's another away day special this one. It involved me going to our near neighbours and scumbags Leeds United back in 1996.
What was different about this match was that I had to be there and back in time for a close friends engagement party in Boro and I was on an official warning not to turn up pissed.
Yeah, as if that was not gonna happen, suckers!!!
So on the day in question, I got ready around lunchtime, had a spot of light lunch and made my way to the arranged meeting place and hit the sauce full on like a fucking train.
It was a jovial bunch of Teesside's finest that made their way to West Yorkshire and the drink and banter was in full flow as we anticipated a decent game against our not so favourite sheep shagging, wax jacket wearing, unwashed rivals. And their songs about us shagging our kids, the sick fucks.
We got to the city of the great unwashed and we found ourselves escorted to the away end as soon as the police were aware that this was a flashpoint encounter.
At this point I was only slightly merry. Even so my sense of humour was well intact as I enjoyed the rest of the Boro fans giving the girl behind the pie counter inside the ground the full range of our Leeds United aimed abuse.
The game was OK really. It was the first time I saw us win at Bellend Road. We won 1-0. Graham Kavanagh scored a penalty for us And Gary MacAllister missed one for them, as he did later that summer for Scotland at Wembley. Ha.
When the game was over and the police had let us out. one of our number told us of an off license he knew up ahead in a place called Holbeck near the ground, where we could stock up the dwindling booze supplies.
This was a major mistake as the Leeds crew soon got wind of a bus full of lads, some wearing red and white, stopping near the ground when the game with Middlesbrough had just finished. So it didn't take long even for these thick bastards to work out that we were Boro.
And before long we were surrounded by dodgy looking wax jacket types with curly perms and wearing white sports socks and faded blue jeans.
We only just managed to escape with a couple of smashed windows and a few cuts and bruises but one of the Leeds fans was not so lucky as he got a empty tango bottle full of piss that some one had been using as a makeshift toilet thrown in his face.
So booze and order restored, we made our way back to Boro and I was on a session big time. The bottle of vodka someone had kindly nicked for me went down a treat and I was pissed as a fart when I got dropped off near my house.
The engagement party was happening at Acklam Rugby club on Green Lane and I was already running late and was very drunk. As I got there I was bursting for a piss, and for whatever reason I decide to have one on in the bushes by the cricket pitch instead of going inside for one like any normal sober person would have done.
So with me being pissed and unsteady on my feet, standing on a muddy bank wasn't the best place to have a slash, was it? Guess what? I fell arse over tit in a load of fucking mud with my trousers round my ankles whilst still having a piss.
I regained my composure and pulled my soaked and mud caked trousers up, but in doing so I scooped up a load of leafs and twigs. But as I was pissed and late and in a state of shock, I just thought I had maybe twisted my belt or somat. Instead I walked into a mixed gathering looking like Morrissey with half a tree sticking out of my arse and soaked in piss, mud and all sorts.
Anyway my mate sorted me out told me to nip in the loo have a rub down and just behave. So I walked in the bog and was in the process of cleaning out the back of my trousers from all the leafs and stuff in a sink when I was accused of having a shit in the sink by a member of the committee.
I was told I was a dirty bastard and escorted from the premises by several large rugby types and told never to come back again.
Marvellous that. I only went to support my mate and his future wife and wish them every happiness and I end up being chucked out as a turd pervert.
Anyway have fun
Up the Boro
Jack
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