| 2006/07 Diaries - War zones, riots and dirty peaches, The start of PrestonAway cha, |
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| Croatia Away by Blacky PrestonAway was all set to travel to Zagreb for a Euro 2008 Qualifier at the Makismir Stadium. It was me, J.K. and Lyndon as we had a early morning flight from Blackpool to Graz, Austria via London. Arrived in good time just to add another straggler in the shape of John who was a Leeds fan and struggling to get a lift to Zagreb. So he's aboard and it's a good job as at the car rental place we are having a few issue with the credit card, No danger, John puts deposit in. Meanwhile, Lyndon decided to put his shorts on and finds he’s picked up the wrong case. Case solved we are on the autobahn and after a few long winded formalities at the Slovenian border we finally arrive Zagreb, drop John off and after a few detours we arrive at the hotel after having passed it about a dozen times. Off into Zagreb and it had a “kick off” written all over it. There was more tension in the air than a Hindu/Muslim Christmas party. You’ve got Police necking pints of Guinness who then decided to fuck off, Just as they were probably hanging up there batons a home made tear gas is launched into the bar, families run out which is swapped for England and Croatia fans running in for a bit of action. It starts to get a bit heavy and time to make tracks before the sozzled Old Bill return so a bit of luck see’s 3 taxi’s turn up, which in the confusion we end up all in one each, with a bit of swapping and these taxi’s not willing to stick around for the festivities we eventually make it back to hotel via a pizza shop selling 25 inch pizza's and by coincidence bump in to john again. So back to hotel with John and no suprise three 25 inch pizza's we begin our luck with talking to a Belgian Carpet seller who doing a perfect job in teasing us even with legs like a prickly brush. We’re not fussy lads at all! Match day it's into town were we meet up with John and his possy for plenty of festivities in the sun, were big Phil puts in a cameo appearance complete with Ice Cream. We have had no success in getting tickets so we head to the ground on a rather packed tram which lets say suffered to the English. After a bit of loitering we get pulled by the Police and after a bit of blagging we are through checkpoint one. Next to checkpoint 2, and the old Croatians can't fathom so mnay fans and with a crush starting, they panic and open gates, BINGO, in with no ticket. However, we get within 30 feet from the jackpot when things take a turn for the worse and it’s soon apparent we are under a baton charge off the Old Bill. Panic breaks out and once it's calmed down there's lads are stumbling about with blood pissing from there heads. The Police try to keep us in the compound but we make a exit and back to a bar for 2nd half. Few beers and raki laters life's not too bad as I end up led in the middle of the road. The night ends up with death threats from the Zagreb Bad Blue boys in a sandwich shop of all things as we make a hasty getaway in our waiting taxi. The next morning Lyndon wakes up with a random blokes work shirt, but with no time for gimmicks we make a hasty get away as Lyndon gets a slag, the Croat ice cream that is. Our hasty getaway was somewhat hampered as some silly cunt's left there car door open across our path. so as I'm sussing it out, there’s a young Dinamo Zagreb hoodlum messing in glove box in his old skool golf oppisite us, and produces a gun, offering it to Lyndon to shoot the car owner, Lyndon was shocked let says. We keep thee'selves entertained abusing every French registered vehicle, so much so forget to stop for Slovenian customs. We stop at Starske in Slovenia were we cause an International Outrage as some more local bird has misfortune to open door of the toilet, which i'd forgotack to blighty b to lock as i'm in the middle of causing chaos in the toilet looking through a porno. Drop motor back off at Graz before heading to hotel before a Sauna, shit and shower before steaks and beers before a finishing honours with some "hospitality". On the Friday, it's a chill out in Graz before eventually arriving back in blighty via one hell of a crazy taxi ride to Graz airport. |
| Tales of International duty: Croatia Away by Blacky, Netherlands Away by Blacky, Israel Away by Blacky, Estonia Away by Blacky |
| Tales of Domestic duty: Southend Away by Blacky, Leicester Away by Blacky |
| Southend Away by Blacky All starts the night before as we go shopping for 36 cans of Boddingtons, a 2 litre bottle of vodka, 6 Red Bull, 4 litres of Lambrini, 2 litres of more civilised bottles of wine and 10 bottles of Strongbow in Morrisons! Was there an army from the pub coming? No, was there buggery it was just me, Gaz and Belter. 4.30am taxi to train station and first cans are open much to the frustration of the night duty manager who was gagging for one but in the line of duty and all that bull shit it was a rather weak no! Swap train at Manchester and it's not long before we lose Mash to go dunk his "head in the toilet". We befriend a family on a day out to London and the father, a Wolves fan is just dying to abandon hisfamily reminiscing about travelling in his younger days with the Wolves "subway army". Mash is on his third McEwans Super Strength before London and he's struggling. Booze dumped in lost luggage and with a little help from Colin we make our way to around Liverpool Street Station. The next hours a bit of a blare but we got kicked out of the bookies for having a tin in the hand and with it being 11/11/06 it was remembrance day so at 11.11am we are stood in the street for a minutes silence followed by a God Save the Queen much to the discomfort of all foreign twats. The next hours are very unclear but we have to be woken on the train and we end up in a lusher on double vodka Redbulls. Some how we get into the ground and Tony Cottee becomes an instant hate figure for the lads as he's doing his Sky Sports bit. it's tops off for all 3 and eaten dropped peaches for Gaz. 0- 0, and its back to Euston. I'm £120 up on bets, Mash about £60 and Gaz is MINUS £50! Gaz then drops his Lambrini as his gammy shoulder goes to piss and gives way leaving him licking the remnants off Euston stations floor like a dog. On the way home friendships are made with Stoke whilethe "Foot of Africa wine" is shared, It tastes like an Africans foot too. Talking of Africans, Mash is hot on the trail of 2 Black Women but the closest he gets to any willy action is pissing himself. We are back in to Manchester for a romantic meal for three, I hitch my way home while Mash and Gaz head to Mash's birds to wreck the joint. I was back to my sack 24 hours after we set out. |
| Dutch Away by Blacky Me and J.K. swap a miserable English tuesday morning in Liverpool for a not too dissimilar German morning in Cologne as we fly out for Englands friendly in th'dam. Arrive in Germany get to our digs for a shower and we are soon out on the German pop and bratwursts - a when in Rome and all that. After a bit of a mooch JK has found a porn shop and has set his sights on shooting his English fat in a porn cabin, so he leaves me loitering around the entrance like a right sleazy cunt as he goes in to do his honours, that was until someone decided to ring him - tut tut tut schoolboy error, always turn the phone off. His antics have took vital energy and it's back to the hotel for a kip and to get ready for a Tuesday night up Cologne. I’d spent a few days in Cologne keeping a "low profile" from British Authorities as such back in 2004, so it was a case of visiting the old haunts, on the river, the steak house then the usual tour of “shit boozers”. With everyone fancying a bit of R&R it’s a trip to the Sapphire Sauna club for a few hours before retiring to bed. Wake up on the Wednesday, smash the buffet and straight on the train to Amsterdam were JK is getting some right old ear ache about using his phone. Arrive into ‘dam, dump the bags and off up to the usual exploits, a walk of the canals, a wander in the Red Light District for a few beers before heading upto the Amsterdam ArenA were we are in the Dutch end for the drab draw, the only highlight some Rotterdam kicking off with Ajax. Train back into town with the usual sing song before descending on to Amsterdam’s Red Light District. It’s chocca with the England and all the boys are at it sending the Dutch immigrants into hiding. One lads gets a hand job for 50 Euro that last 5 minutes as cheers go up for any lad willing to have a dabble. Next morning early wake up and back to Cologne on a rather silent express, time for a burger and a mooch before we head back to the airport, Back to Manchester and a qualtity few days on foreign soil was had. |
| Leicester Away by Blacky It was me and Duck in one car and Killy (yes you read right), Conway, Mash and Gaz in another, why we didn't squeeze into one I'll never know but we trundled on down south to Mid England with ales flowing in both cars, the problem was we was all rather getting excited and missed the fucking Leicester turn off and this must be the longest ever stretch of motorway without a cunting turnoff, so few detours here and there we finally arrive at the stadium sponsored by some shit crisps. The trio are parked fucking miles away requiring a brisk jog, me and duck bribed the car park attendant and parked in the players/guests car park for a few quid straight across from ground, right old result. Its already 3.10pm so we rush to gate to be told we need a ticket, so rush get a ticket and back to gate and on just in time to see us score. Eventually meet lads at half time and sit in sunshine watching us blag a 1-0 win, the stand was bouncing come full time, magical days. We bid farewell to the lads as we pick the motor up in the exec car park and make it home in one piece, which is more that can be said for the Qunting Quad - Killy, Conway, Gaz and Mash . . . They'd popped in Spar to stock up on there supplies for way home and upon trying to leave the store they find the baying mob of the Leicester Baby Squad, and while the lads were thirsty, the Baby Squad were blood thirsty waiting outside. Killy wouldn't leave as cut throat signs were being made through the door, It ended up the shop keeper calling the police and the lads being driven in a police van for 30 minutes trying to find the car before eventually leaving Leicester and never seeing Killy again. |
| Israel Away by Blacky After nearly missing my Amsterdam connection in Manchester due to womens lack of driving skills I arrive in to Tel Aviv airport in the middle of the night and guess who’s the only person for the “pull” from Israeli security, yours truly, and they are quite astonished to find a fan arriving 24 days before the game. A 5 hour journey through the Negev desert delivers me to Eilat, Israel answer to Blackpool where a few days naughtyness is enjoyed extremely, gambling, drinking, everything cha. Saturday I get into Jordan (the country not the one with the tits) and after mix up at the bus station between my destination Amman and another town called Ma’an which had the pleasure of an unexpected visit from myself I finally arrive to my digs in Amman 4 hours late. I spent the next week chilling doing a few sites, a few beers, a few sites, a few smokes, a few sites, a few strip clubs and few more beers etc. I’ve still 2 weeks before the game and no plans on my next attack. A passing enquiry at 6pm turns into a fucking flight to Cairo at 10am the next day, not one to fuck about, you know me. I spend the next 5 chilling around Pyramids, Luxor and Cairo, not bad for a random decision. We are now around 9 days before the game, and there’s still plenty to see in Israel so I’m making tracks steadily back towards Israel and over land for a one night stop in Eilat and then continue on to Jerusalem. I ain’t no religion buff, my country comes first but its not bad being able to put a picture to famous landmarks but the real reason I had headed here was to push the boundaries yet again and get into fucking loony bin of Palestine, which was a right brain dead idea as it had kicked off in recent weeks – for me a even bigger incentive to head in. I get out with out having been kidnapped or my head chopped off, bit of a let down on the quiet. I also took time out to meet a top mate of mine, a Israeli mush who I’d met on a mountain in China in 2006 and passed the night away with 15 odd pints of Murphys - my shit was as black as the ace of spades for days. 5 days before the game it’s time to head to Tel Aviv and set up base. Pushing the boundries again I head up towards the war torn region around the Lebanon border see whats going on, with the war only finished 4 weeks before! Again if this is war, it’s a walk in the park. Even the Syrian Border was as quiet as a mouse. The only sign of war was a bomb hit house in the city of Haifa. All the while Israeli’s see a chance for a pay rise and there’s a 4 day general strike which cause the shit to hit the fan as this means that 3,000 England fans will be locked out, The phone is chronic with calls as I’m the spy in the camp. Wednesday night is an errie feeling, the front should be packed with England giving the biggy, There’s literally only 35 fans, something similar to Northern Ireland away in Mongolia. Its that bad I spend it supping with Chelsea when a call eventually comes through the strike is off, call to my boys and there on the way to the airport. Fridays starts a funny old way, theres a lot of pointing going on in my direction, I’m rough as a bears arse, head for a hair cut and someone shows me a news paper cutting with me getting pissed, well that’s fucking it aint it, I can't shake cunts off for photos. invites for radio shows, T.V. shows and some one even declared "this weekend you are more famous than out Prime Minister". Anyway bollocks to that shit, down to “Mikes Place” for a pint and a breakfast and Jonny who’s just arrived turns up with the Yorkshire mob. It’s hard work as all day I have T.V. crews floating around like flies round shit and people 5 deep wanting photo’s, before I’m assigned my own Israeli Police officer – Loonies cha. Off to the “Fans Party in the Park” and our form dosen’t improve, 8 big English mushes arrive and we are treated like hero’s, each with 2 pints in hand top off, everyone wants a bit of us, really fucking weird shit. In our drunken state we have blagged our way on to the stage to sing the national anthem, this being in the midst of some fairly large Israeli bands. Fame really does get you things. But in that you get dodgy twats and this come in the way of some fucking heavyweight who wants to be one of us, He has 2 minders and is buying in the fucking beers for fun. We are later tipped off that he is a Iaraeli/Russian mafia lord after he invites us to his cliff top "villa" for beers. food and a swim in his pool apparently. Fuck that, we are men of the people. Back In Tel Aviv me and Jonny move away from the crowds and head to the other side of the city for some food and a bit of hospitality, Thrown out of one we hit the jackpot in the next “bar”. Anyway after pleasantries I’ve lost Jonny so back on to the front and all the English have gone home but so much for Shabbat, its banging cha. I meet Clarky from Ramsgate. Unfortuantly it starts to piss down and everyone fucks off inside apart from me and Clarky who stick it out singing "I'm singing in the rain", and with that spirit all the Israeli's come back out before a 300 man Conga on the front before i meet a grissly death by wellying a glass bottle – bring on the blood! Having almost bled to death, I meet a lad who I’d met on the first day of my trip on the coach to Eilat, So we end up in a late night bar before crawling in to my pit at 6am. I wake up with a raging throat infection but a breakfast and pint is needed so off to “mikes” as per usual and meet up with usual characters - Big Phil, Sam, Al Scum etc. My phones going like the bloody clappers, turns out my antics have made the papers back home, Oh shit I’m thinking! Anyway finally to the game and into the England end with NO Englandfans+ membership, it’s a great National Anthem but after that I take the time to snooze and rest as we struggle on. Game over, Taxi straight to the airport, were I end up getting the hump with the Israeli Authorities as I’m in for a monster 2 hour interview about my rampage over the past 3 and a half weeks, strip searched, all photos checked and even checking my mobile phone contacts. Been a long tour and I’m glad to arrive back into Manchester. |
| Estonia Away by Blacky Early start with 2 debutants, Ed and Conway, as we head to Liverpool airport for our Riga flight were we bump o some more Nobbers in the form of CSC members - Phil, Rats and Wardy. Into Riga Latvia and taxi to the bus station only to find all the buses are fully booked so next best thing, £25 each and its a taxi for the 150 mile journey with a supermarket stop. Jonny "foreigner" has the task of driving through the Baltic countryside while 6 England fans are supping there cheap ale and dealing some of the vilest abuse you'll ever hear. Arrive Estonian border and we cause a mockery taking the piss ambling and rambling like we own the fucking gaff before we have the record set straight. Arrive Tallinn and after a few detours we finally arrive and it's not long before Ed and Conway have there mitts on match tickets for £80 each, bit steep for me and I decide to wait. This leave the evening open for unrivalled supping. Now being unaccountable as I always am, I seem to remember some naked Estonian in the room and not to miss an opportunity tried to catch unfolding events on camera, of which she wasn't too happy about, lets just say it would have made a cracking Pornotube Video. Next morning, we decide to move hotels for some reason. New residence, food and into square in the red hot sunshine on dirt cheap ale to meet friends of old and new for a kick about and spot of cricket. Ed as per usual causes chaos by booting the ball and it hitting a tart square on the hand leaving it hanging on by a thread. All of a sudden it's gone very quiet and its then we realise theres 40 minutes before kick off and i've no ticket. taxi to ground and £35 bags me one but no sooner have i entered I'm back out again. Some stewards offers to put me with the Englands fans, so as i climb the wall the police come and deal some right old punishment out to me, I'm thrown out via cracking my knashers on a concrete pillar. I spend the next 30 minutes giving the Bill some right shit till Spinko comes and saves me from probable arrest. Back into Tallinn to watch the end and resume drinking till Ed and Conway finds us. Ed was also thrown out for running on to the pitch to do "airplanes" with his arms. Conway heads home and me and Ed carry on supping until an "altercation" of sorts as it kicks off in the square, with Police called it's time to make tracks to bed at 7am. Maid walks in at 10am and much to her surprise theres 3 naked English men as she lets a murderous scream out. Check out, food and to the bus station for our bus back to Riga with the boys. The bus is like a sauna and we've got headaches from hell but we meet a top set of City boys and it turns out I'd been on tele last night . . . Again. Into Riga and with arrangements made we go our own ways. A meal at Sidders restaurant leads us to meet in the square, as the night goes on the atmosphere turns moody, but with 50 English, the Latvians don't have enough balls to confront us. For "reccy purposes" we move from a square to a bar on a street to prevent ambushes and the night passes off without incident with yet another early morning wake up for the trip back to Liverpool, which passes off without incident strangely. |
