| 2007/08 Diaries - |


International Grounds: Ninnian Park Cardiff, Luzhniki Stadium Moscow, Ernst Happel Vienna, Basin Reserve Wellington, Mclean Park Napier, Stade de France Paris, Domestic Grounds: Hawthorns West Brom, Ricoh Arena Coventry, Portman Road Ipswich, Oakwell Barnsley, KC Stadium Hull, Wembley London, Molineux Wolverhampton, Turf Moor Burnley, Britannia Stadium Stoke, Pride Park Derby, Vicarage Road Watford, The Valley Charlton, Bombsite Road Blackpool, Loftus Road QPR, Chester-le-Street Durham, August: Gaz, Seb and Belter were to meet up decked out in pastin gear with cans in hand for the 1st away game to West Brom. Belter gets on the vodka early doors and its finished in quick time. It's only 11am and Seb and Belter have already done a pavement pizza. They eventually find a Social club and it's just like the fucking "Grimleys". Beltz comes unstuck at pool against the captain of the against pool club team while other punters are going on about killing people, so when it starts to get that deep you just hit the bar. Time to move on they hit a Baggies bar and the only eventful thing to happen is Seb chipping a tooth playing football with some kids. After the game it's back to the pub to wait for the taxi and get some supplies as Beltz is stealing watermelons. Taxi arrives and to the train station, PROBLEM- wrong train station, It's ok we'll wait for the next one and head to 'Spoons, anyway lifes life and Belters ranting and before we know the last service to Preston was an hour ago. It's now in search of a hotel . . . hotel bar that is but this dosen't last at £8 a drink. With hope gone and fucked off by some tarts from Ormskirk and thrown out the hotel it was looking to be a bin shelter as they was homeless, until they eventually managed to break into some Student accomadation and sleep under the stairs. It's an ironic morning as they got a taxi to a 24 hour supermarket which is shut??!! Gaz uncovers a perfectly good hotel with vacancies- too little too late! Get train home around the time Priory were kicking off there first competitive game of the season! Fuck amateur football, Hartleys for a drink innit? September: September brings about Coventry and a departure 7 hours before kick off for the 2 hour journey with Belter, Gaz and Tony on this certain trip. First stops Sainsburys with a special treat for the driver - a low alcohol beer. Arrive and it's a dire affair, locals are depressed, no food and no SKY, but don't panic, Gaz'll stick a bit of Abba on. Trick not done, they head off and get the result they wanted, a shit hot ale house with all the amenitites. After the late game Gaz is on his way home optimistic of organising a big night out. But half way into his lambrini that dream was over. Later on in the month it was "international duty" away to Cardiff. It gets off to a right bad start at 7.30 am on train station as Belter and Duck are seriously organising a 50 Cent gig. Anyway it was cans for breakfast and by 9.30 Belter was on the Vodka followed by Brandy followed by a bottle of wine! In Cardiff the boys were impressing until Belter decided enough was enough and the Anti welsh chants started resulting in him being given a stern speaking team several time by the old bill. It was advised to get out of there quick but quick isn't belters game and was collared by some Welshie's trying to taunt him but Belter wasn't in the least bit bothered. They was staying with Relatives of Duck, They were great hosts and the hospitality shown was enough to sobered the troops up so that we could go out that night. It was then a night on Cardiff and they ripped it up royal, but as for Curry house, more likely to find a bacon butty shop in a mosque in this city of likely lads. Next day fed nicely a few pints and back to blighty to meet with a few of the lads for the footy. October: Ipswich on the coach was always going to be a massive ask as booze was banned. So with the kitchen light blazing late into the night like a bomb making factory, gaz got to work concealing his ale. It was a good job as the first question by coach stewards was hand over the ale. Belter had almost finished his vodka before leaving Deepdale. Ale had made the 5 hours fly and in Ipswich the shit was about to hit the fan as Gaz and Mash went in search of a lusher and upon finding one the staff thought the lads weren't a day over 17 and for giving shit they we're banned. Nearly missing the coach was the least of there troubles as not only were they last on, there "illegal" cargo had been spotted, The steward and driver had been tipped off and took there empties as they was read the riot act. They took the wine but forgot the several 2 litre vodka lased pop. Service soon resumed. At the services they were collared again and got a ban Lee Bowyer would have been proud of. It’s a strange one as Blacky and Fossil head to Russia. So it started with a Manchester – Prague – St Petersburg stint and after 2 hours sat with Ladas’s and Skoda's we make it into our quite plush apartment. We did all the tourist shit while there as you do. Sarurday night came and we hunted a British bar – The Liverpool – To watch the rugby World Cup semi, We made it our own as around 30 English joined us. It was a memorable night as England crushed France as we headed out in to the bitter St. Petersburg night ale’d up. Get back to the apartment and doors only fucked, so Blacky spent the next 10 minutes as a human wrecking ball knocking the fuck out of a 2 inch thick metal door, Once in the door was well and truly fucked. Next day was a day at ease, as we made our way on a 8 hour journey to Moscow on the train, The snow was drifting and the booze flowing. Into a damp miserable Moscow, a Burger and straight to a drunken slumber. Monday and Tuesday was spent doing all the Tourist sight seeing trail in the midst of a red herring run to the British Embassy for tickets. The Stoke lad who tipped us off forgot to tell us we needed to be a member and when I was found to have travelled without even being a EF+ member, the shit hit the fan and Blacky and Fossil was enemy number 1 By this time the Yorkshire contingent had pulled in and was in formidable numbers, so Blacky spent Tuesday night up at there hotel eating Chinkys and drinking bleach like vodka. One thing that was noticeable was pockets of England fans pissing with blood who’d been attacked in and around Moscow. The Russians were holding vantage points near tube stations and outside hotels attacking fans, but they was no where near the hotel packed with 2000 England. Police ended up shackling thr door and no one was allowed to leave so I had no where to sleep but remember Stan who we stuck up for in Estonia, in a lovely return gesture he put Blacky up on his floor with all inclusive ale. Breakfast with the lads and back to central Moscow for a few more hours shut eye before a taxi to the ground and no sooner had we made it into the Russian end we are back out on our arses so round to the England end for a chance to slip the net, no chance. After arguing the toss and a bribe to the plod we’re in much to the disgust of some people who I’d seen in the queue previous day at the embassy. Game over we leave and lose our crew, so with no money its hood up, head down and a 2 mile walk back to Moscow thinking one false move and it's curtains. I’d met Clarky in Tel Aviv and he was only in same digs so tail between legs we head out to a local bar and it gets to 6.30am before we get our heads down. Its 10am and we head for Moscow airport to fly home. On Arrival in Manchester we get the big pull by customs who take great delight in relieving us off our goodies, fucking horrible bastards that they are. 2 words never again. November: Barnsley away, Blacky, Belter, Seb, Duck and Gaz just about suited and booted going to the football - Strange. Well we was on best behaviour as we were guests of honour to the Barnsley lads from the England games. However the ale was still there and lots of it. To pass time i'd put a quiz together, Odds were available on the winner and Gaz was laughing all the way to the bank! By this time some old dears were taking a interest and Mash was returning the mutual feeling a lit bit more than he should have at there age. I'd already had 2 bottles of wine and went shopping for my third, this lead to a brush with the law at Leeds Station but we gave as good as we got to the Old Bill. I'd organised a Match kitty with various scores and Gaz was chuffed to pull - MATCH ABANDONED. Arrived in Barnsley and our states didn't go down well and was told to put a lid on it as it was "posh round 'ere". Round 2 of a stern talking to from the Police. Belter weren't letting them get away with this as he was hurling for sale signs about as the Police started to tail us in the van. In to the Exec boxes I think we was all fucked but Blacky just wanted his pint of wine - No chance!!! We was to be on the next Barnsley programme and this was of Belter licking a old guys head. We think the Barnsley lot was quite glad to get rid of us. Blacky ended up stalking some under ager's around Leeds before heading for tea. Now big lad was a bit peckish and this left him with 2 big bags of Mcdonalds and was delaying progress to catch the train, leaving Blacky getting on one for Middlesborough by accident as the Preston one pulled out. Off Gaz and company went without Blacky, but Gaz had all the tickets and Blacky was fucking hammered. Gaz, Duck and Seb knew they had to collect the big man so changed to return at New Pudsey to go back. Beltz had to head home for the biggest fireworks display on the planet hosted by everyones main man- Dave Slater! Upon return Blacky's reputation for falling in love with ethnics took a whole new turn as he was found arm in arm with a Chink. Once we brushed an aggressive tramp off he was on bottle 4 of wine before passing out. We returned to Preston in 1 piece and once they got Blacky out of a bush, we was on the night out. With Belter driving me, Gaz and Carl were the passengers for Hull away. Breakfast stop and we are on our way with a quick pit stop for bookies as the wine was going down a treat. On the way i'm trying to get in contact with the Chink i'd met on the way home from Barnsley to no avail, a fucking bloke kept answering - TWAT. arrive and the thieving Yorkshire twats do me for £20 for 4 doulbe vodka Heartburns. Apparently I gave the Car park attendant a bottle of wine, Anyway on to the ground we get the flag up and a little pissed it's tops off to which i receive a right slating from the Hull fans, and you know what I say "if you can't beat them, join them" so a right good Nipple licking while giving a little jig puts them in there place. As a season ticket holder for a 10 year period, 100 different grounds and other vast amounts of money I've put in to the club out of my own money, this was by fair the worst performance I'd ever seen so, I thought right thats it, Nothing's going to get done stood here grumbling so it was time to save my club and vent the frustration and that what I did. Game finished I fancied confronting Simmo but Gaz and Mash convinced me it wasn't the right thing to do. We ended up in Hulls "main" pub, but with a 3-0 win over us there boys could have no beef. Eventually make it home, again no night out so Gaz decided to try to become a home wrecker as he tries to convince himself is a better prospect for the lady of the Doyle's house. I was to meet John W from Leeds in Vienna so It was a lonesome start to Austria via Zurich. Arrive in to Vienna and the British Old Bill are tramping my toes again. Brush them off and to the airport bar for a few hours getting plastered while watching the locals gather for the England teams placards saying “I Love you Wayne Rooney”, “I want your babies David Beckham” and “Steve Mclaren you are the biggest fucking waster since Taylor … Cha”. The snow is falling heavy and it’s a wee bit nippy on the nipples but the wine is a comfort and I catch the bus as it ploughs its way through snow and slush arriving in Central Vienna where my hotel is literally just off the square. After a few false starts to find the correct street with the hotel I’m in and checked in and straight to the bar. Not long after John appears, He’s had a hard time after certain problems in Russia. Anyway I have a previous appointment in my room to attend to so I leave him with a bottle of Asda wine I’d brought. Deeds are done. But John manages to swing a favour and he’s away for an hour doing his errands. Eventually we are out in to Vienna and into a strip club. John talks to the talent while I share a pizza with some Russian madam. We get a taxi to another joint and John being John speaks as blunt as a cunt and is telling the driver in his way he wants no shit stripclub. We pull up outside another gentlemans bar and John says he’ll go suss it out. As soon as John disappears boosh cars off with door open banging several other cars and taxi driver starts saying “just me and you now me and you”. He’s told in no uncertain terms to stop the taxi, of which he refuses so I’m left with no option but to strangle the cunt into his own seat. He slowly comes to a stop, I get out and he screams off with 2 doors still opening banging fuck out of stationary cars and for his trouble I boot his bumper in with a kung fu kick which I coincidently strain my groin. It’s a long walk back to the hotel in the early hours through 1 foot of deep snow. Next morning out for breakfast followed by a wander to one of the markets were we end up supping wine out of the snow. We are waiting for the rest of the “pudding” contingent arriving. We form an awaiting committee at their chosen hotel. The afternoon is mainly taken up drinking in several bars and larking about in the snow. We end up back in our hotel supping before getting a taxi to the game. The taxi drivers a foreign cunt and plays stupid pretending not to know were the stadium is, Patience eventually runs out and John gets out and tells him to fuck off, the old cunt of a Turk didn’t like it so squares up, which results him being led in the snow shouting for the police with his Police Alarm on his taxi going. We just stroll off and get on the subway. We arrive at the ground late, cold and pissed also missing the national anthem (which consequently is the best part) so at half time taxi’s back to the hotel and it’s a right result as we end up sat with a Norwegian Nurse’s convention. We are back supping wine even before the end of the game and until the bar shuts. No result with the nurses. Up late and a very quick pack and we catch a taxi to the airport. We have the last supper in the airport bar before John heads off to Heathrow and I make my way back to Manchester just in time to watch Israel v Russia in airport bar, However I’m disgusted to say it was Scotland v Italy. Italy score I jump up in celebration to the disgust of the other dozen jocks and I head out pronto to get my lift home. Blacky, Gaz, Mash, Duck, Lyndon and Gordy were to head to Wembley for the all important final qualifying game against Croatia only having to avoid defeat to book our trip to the Alps in summer 2008. The early signs weren’t good when we had to evacuate the train at Wigan. Into London and to our hotel, The Hilton only 100 yards from the new home of football. A photo with the the Sir Bobby Moore statue, and a few hours in the fitness club preparing for night out and we was in a taxi to London straight to a steak house and after a tip top little day things go a bit shit from here as we was refused entry to just about every bar in the West End. Getting a bit hacked off I leave the lads to go to a nightclub full or Africans in Senegalese tracksuits while I went on a solo to Yates. Duck ended the night by being chatted up by a Chesney Hawks lookalike over a burger. Matchday we sniff a fry up café and while smashing a pork farm up I get a call to be told I’m only in Nut’s licking my tits at Hull 2 weeks ago. Back to hotel for a swim and sauna before going to get ready for the game with a few beers. Now as you know, it's never easy for big lad to have a straight forward trip, and as “Preston Away Travel” tour representative, I was called to reception, this is were you think which twats shit in the Sauna, so off I trot to reception and was told that as a group of 6 lads we wasn’t there usual clientele and would we wear PINK wristbands to identify ourselves. Head up to ground all the while Duck is busy “barffing his cock off”. By fluke we was only 20 seats away even though we had bought in different sections. The RAF did a lap of honour which was duly boo’d from the Croat’s AKA cunts. Everyone knows what happened next so won't go into it but a few lads head to bar to try a lighten there spirits up as we watch the idiot on the idiot box refusing to resign, We make light of them losing the San Marino ball in the South Africa draw but the lads are hurting in different ways, anyway fuck to it we’ll make our own European tour as we have booked a bounty tour to the tax free paradise of Luxembourg and it’s a early train at 6.30am. We awake at 4am and we are seriously considering fucking it off, we are tired, depressed and its cold and pissing down outside as the floodlights still shine at Wembley. I was depressed to hell, we eventually decide to get down with this shit, awake Gaz and leave Gordy and Lyndon in bed for the return later home (More about that later on) as we get the 1/2 mile taxi to the tube station and head to Eurostar. We are eventually speeding our way to the continent full of business boys as we get started on Gaz’s Boddingtons, much to the dislike of the locals. We eventually arrive in Luxembourg City to Mike Bassett like chants of “Luxembourrrg Luxembourrrg Luxembourrrg”. Duck’s only left his return tickets all the way back to Preston on the train so back we go and there no were to be seen. 2 hours rooting in bins and after England fans exploits here in 1983, not a chance they was going to help us. Duck bites the bullet and buys himself a new return ticket to London. Too late to get to a cigs/booze warehouse we decide to do the next best thing, a walk around the Red Light District, a Mcdonalds and a few beers. We start to make our way back through Europe sleepily with some ale in time for the Eurostar were we are back at the antics again. I kill two birds with one stone in the toilet, leaving me hot, sweaty and smelling of shit while Mash takes a fancying to some bird and while at the bar takes in the smells of her seat. We’ve cleared the carriage apart from one Frenchy that’s loving the entertainment. Back into London we go from rags to riches and are in some stuffy Kings Cross hotel as we finish the night in some Jazz bar. As you may remember we also had Lyndon and Gordie on board. We’d left them Thursday morning as we headed to Luxembourg. They were due to get a dinner time train back to Preston. They’d been down in the bar till all hours entertaining as such, and so overslept, they then got a taxi to Euston costing a fortune only to miss there train. They get the next one, however with there tickets not for that train, it starts to kick off with the conductor who aint playing game, with the threat of the police Lyndon put it on his card for both and get off at Stoke, a burger and a Stagecoach later are back into Preston – Not happy chappies at all. It’s now Friday, we head for breakfast, or a fucking Jacket Potato in Gaz’s case and it’s not long before we are heading back to Preston, with Duck having bought a ticket to Rugby for £30 in the hope it will only be checked once. Arrival is prompt with Duck getting back no danger and I’m off home to change my case from Jeans to Shorts as I head to Morocco the very nextmday for a few days R&R. December: Wolves had 3 new debutants on in the form of Conway, Ed and Nez to join Duck, Mash and Gaz. Nez was in a horrible little white number that had never been worn and cost a ton, Beltz had black hair and Conway had a Goatee all the while Nez joined Beltz on pints of rum and vodka respectively. Arrived Wolves and it's no surprise Ed trashes the womens toilets all the while Ed and Gaz smash there way through a bottle of Baileys. At the Hotel, form dosen't get much better as one pisses himself, a few ale'd up, a few passed out and the person to be checking the boys in drinking Baileys - from the bottle. No surprise they end up homeless, they head to the pub before being thrown out for being sick. Nez is left looking for hair dye as the rest go to the game. Conways doing his best to get the crowd going by going to the front topless and singing. Ed who'd already been wrapped for smoking in a Spar decided to jump the fence and walk the pitch, he got away with it but upon second time, he was out on his ear. We lost 1-0. Ed had been arrested and was due back in court later that week as Belter found a few spare hotel rooms. In the room nezz had a bottle of rum and was in gloves dying his hair - ginger as it turned out while Gaz and Belter was busy being sick in the bath and trashing the room. All went there separate ways for tea apart from Ed who got nothing, and after Gaz and Conway convinced some OAPs they was a Bryan Adams tribute band it was Wolves for the boys. After a night on the tiles a few went to see the red lights of Wolves and as Morning came Nez fucked off to Northampton for a new adventure, While the rest hit Wolves but it was a bad day as they were to become serial twats . . . according to other people. Our last game of 2007 was to take us to East Lancashire/West Yorkshire. This was a strange one as there was no ale and it was about the result with just Mash, Gaz, Seb and Maxi going. It started with a brew at Maxi's and the trip was spent piecing the previous nights antics in Preston together. Wasn't long before they got there and Maxi was playing Russian Roulette by talking Bastard Rovers. Great win after 10 months of waiting, and on the way out, our boys was offered a ruck with Burnley, but Mash not fancying it told the thick cunt he was Burnley with his Nobbers shirt on full display. January: With Sheffield Wednesday a no go on New Years we made our presence felt at Stoke with Mash, Duck, Gordy, Gaz and Blacky going. It was a cassette only journey but Gordy was more assed about his phone floating in the shitter from the previous night. Eventually arrive via a few fair broken rules of the road thanks to Gaz's driving and find a pub. A few split off and while the others joined us, for the second game in a row bumped into a bit of bother. This was also the game Hurricaine became a offical member of PrestonAway handing me several hundred quid in the back of the stand for Belarus having never met me before. We lost and it was a rather quiet journey home . . . until Mash spilt his drink of Gordie's seat and all hell broke lose Derby in the cup was always going to get a few more on it and it did with JK and Dave Swindells joining the regulars Gaz, Beltz, Duck, Blacky, and Seb. It was a early start and apart from nearly going Llandudno by accident the usually ribbing of JK pursued while Dave was tortued for getting a coffee as all the men was on ale. We had a inflatable pair of boobs on the trip but it didn't go down well as Belter caused a bomb scare at Sheffield. Ale in lockers and we did a bit of a lusher tour in Derby which uncovered a cowboy and a "waterlogged" pool table. Belter, Jk and Dave decided to get naked in this giant killing before we headed home to celebrate long into the night in Preston February: We was to play Watford Away but it was also Blacky's Birthday so with him organising it was never going to be straight forward - a night in Northampton. Blacky was driving Northampton then it was choo choo to Watford. We had a crack at old Flame Emma Mitchell going to no avail. Upon arriving we checked in while Nez kept his distance looking dodgy as fuck stud in the middle of a park. Nez stayed on a solo in Northampton and Blacky finally got supping on train where he met a nice lass and impressed Gaz with his chat up line to her, feel free to use next time your out: "i can't look straight at you girl, your eyes are such a deep blue that there like the Mediterranean sea and they dazzle me, i have to look away" Blacky was in love again and christened it with 3 burgers, but the mood soon changed as we discovered no booze was on sale at the ground. A decent draw and we was heading back to Northampton as Blacky and Gaz smashed there way through some wine and Baileys. Supping continued in the room and wasn't long before we was out and Blacky was drinking wine - bottle by bottle. SHOCK - Wasn't long before Blacky was on his way home but we'd meet again. Bar to bar we ended up all splitting up until Gaz and Nez ended up slipping home only for Nez to have a change of heart and go back out. As Gaz returned he found Blacky passed out in reception with a huge crowd thinking he had gate crashed. Next morning we are shopping for Sponge bobs for Gaz so he could go to the pool. Wasn't long before we was out of this town and rolled up at Rugby for the League Cup Final. As the lads watched it Blacky stayed in the motor in the high street and shall we lets say the windows ended "steamed up" which resulted in having to change his boxers. March: It was just me setting off to New Zealand but I was due to meet Carl in Wellington. So a few red wines and a shuttle to London before taking the flight to Tokyo. Not even 12 hours in and its kicked off with some tree hugger as I’ve took exception to him using my legs as a pillow, I'm Enemy number one on the plane - standard. Into Tokyo Airport and surprise surprise I'm pulled in by immigration, They end up going through my bag and when the unveiled my 15 foot by 8 foot England flag in front of 500 people, it was priceless, bit of a England swagger and a “see if I give a shit” later I’m in my digs for the next few nights. The next few days was spent supping beer and wine, Watching football, gambling and visiting strip clubs along with a few hours sight seeing. It was a good life. I’d spent 3 days in Japan and it was time to leave the land of the rising sun. It’d been eventful and a great crack. Pissed up I was asleep even before the plane has left the airport gate as I slept 8 of my 10 hours journey to New Zealand. In to Christchurch, More fucking aggro from the immigration and it’s only a short flight to Welligton were I meet Carl and end finish the night spewing all outside Barmy Army pub and falling asleep in a bush and later semi naked in Hotel corridor. The next few days are spent in familiar scenario, early doors to the Basin Reserve, On the ale, out on to the town on the piss with characters such as Torquay, Eyes. Whitey and co, Doom and Gloom, Huddersfield , Boring, etc etc. A series win see’s a rather hung over start to our road trip as I turn up midday still half cut as we catch out train up to Masterton. Its like fucking Burnley . No one goes to work, there all sat outside in flea ridden sofas supping through there 4 teeth like hell. A quiet night gives us a fresh start as we head to Dannervirke. Its only a hour and we soon find a decent little gaff, and are singled out for a dressing down that there’s to be no trouble. Cheeky cunt. Then the most amazing thing happens, Whitey’s only remembered we are to stay here and is literally 3 doors down. So It was always going to be a hectic night and after haggling the price of a bottle of wine to 5 quid during happy hour and cleaning there wine stocks out in the sports bar (was really just a old room with a tv, juke box and a pool table) we were chugging like no ones business. Its then off to a casino, again just like a social club with a few “Argos poker” sets. Again day after we are on the move as we wait for the 2 hour late bus, but if you see a Eddie Hitler lookalike, you can easily amuse yourself. Hastings is dead, so it’s another early night, only my second in 14 days before “Splash Planet” and comphensive win of mine over Carlos on the golf course. Good Friday it is next day and EVERYTHING is shut so first things first, get the ale and boy did we. Whitey has promised us a lift and true to his word he does, straight to the ground to hang the flags then back to his more a slap up meal thanks to Jo. The days take the form of sitting in the shade at Mclean Park supping beer watching England get a huge win, supping up town at night. The last day after Victory we head for a game of golf and a bit of shopping. It nearly kicks off one night as two little Kiwi rascals can give Anti English shit but can’t take it and chases us up the road, a case of broaden your shoulders and take 3 steps forward with a growl and next things its all handshakes from them – shitbags. Last night is spent supping with Whitey’s family, Spiv and his missus before an early morning flight to Auckland, time for a mooch before our separate flights to Los Angeles. We leave at 9pm arriving same day at 12pm, How you ask, we flew “back in time” over the dateline. In L.A. Carls got beers in. But the exciting thing is even though I arrived later than Carl I hadn’t felt the effects so much and had been to my previous haunt when residing in L.A. – The British Bar. I met a architect that reckoned he lived next to Becks and unless this was a regular stunt rung him and had me talking to his maid who knew he was in France ( France v England 100th cap). He had the suit car and money in wallet to match. Anyway a bite and we called it a night as the next day we was to head to Mexico . It’s a early start and we meet up and eventually are on our way to Tijuana . We get down and It’s a strange old gaff as we have Viagra and steds offered on the street. A good day and we are back for last orders at the British bar and some decent tucker. Again we are up early as I said I’d show Carl some movie homes and go Universal Studio’s, I've only fallen in love this time with an Aussie called Trish Hill as we stalk her round Hollywood. By night its another easy one and a bit of shopping. Again we are all go on the Sunday as we head for some designer gear from Rodeo Drive. We see our hero Dennis, the lad who took us to Mexico and “do Cwoffee” as they say. Before we know it, its hugs and back patting. We’d done, English victory on the other side of the world. A magic moment. Charlton was to rear the same crew as West Brom earlier on - Mash, Gaz and Seb on the train. Gaz being Gaz had prepared a picnic fit for a king but it didn't make it past Milton Keynes. Seb was doing his best for international relations with a top ethnic quote to a Paki about his trip to London, "Ive only been about 3 times and im engli erm... from Preston". Belter quizzed in him in great detail on his sex life before a drinking game ensued as the lads goaded the poor muslim to have a drink, of which they did to Seb's recent engagement. It was only ever going to go down hill from then as Gaz got the spongebobs out while doing a bit of sight seeing while Mash was busking, before eventually making it to a lusher for a pre match drink before a memorable win. A £67 taxi later the boys arrived at Euston all in no fit state. Ale picked up and it was a victorious train journey home headed by everyones main man Minty, It wasn't too much of a surprise as they ended up in Squires after a 22 hour day. This was the one everyone was waiting for at the start of the season, a chance to invade shitpool and after our defeat at Deepdale, revenge was on our minds! Gaz, a Police searched Mash and and all time first - Laura Swin the away day bird. Train journey soon passed and PNE arrived on mass. The police were soon over to tell us to sup our Stellas. In Blackpool, we met up with Gordy Moss and Kayleigh who had spent the night in a B&B. Pub shut it was to an Offy to get supplies. A bit of a bore draw and its a few beers at Gordie's hotel before blagging the way home to a Saturday night in Preston. France Away brings a group together we shall call the “Lunatic Fringe” friendly with PrestonAway. The taxi turns up five minutes early. Quick check for passport/euros/ale and straight to the café for ale and a breakfast where they get a new recruit just like that who will join us the next day. Been a problem with flights so next best option – mini bus to London and the Eurostar so it’s a case of 16 blokes, 16 bags and 16 crates of ale. Eventually in to the Euston Flyer, and we was recognised by the barman as 3 weeks earlier we’d spent 7 hours getting merry here after being refused entry to Charlton. Now the fun begins as one young Saudi Scoundral does honours of checking in with the fit bird at the desk. Next thing she signals the “sixteen are here..!!” Que for London's finest plod to appear. Questions, finger prints, passports,all taken away. The train rattles out the station minus 16. They are eventually allowed to travel minus a couple who will catch up later. We get on the next train a hour late minus 4 with two officers in toe on a trip out at the expense of the taxpayer - Bastards. Arrive in Paris and to the hotel were the silly French slut says that it’s now sold out as they turned up later than expected so a sit in protest ensues – in the bar of course helping themselves to the fridge telling her to sort it or else. The rest of the lunatics arrive via plane train and ferry. The night turns into morning and we are now in a hotel near the airport fucking miles from anywhere. Some get up early in the morning straight to ground leaving most lads dead to the world as they try to sort tickets out to no avail, so what’s a man going to do – sup in the Red Light district! The French police are trying sniff trouble but everyone’s happy getting ale’d up and a right little result on the tickets front, it’s in with the frogs but no danger, a right result. Games finished and we are still on the ale before catching Eurostar back to the promise land, few jars in London before the train home on a top trip for the boys. April: Our Final game of 2009 was a early start to QPR with Gaz, Belter, Black, Duck, Seb and a . . . Pineapple rolled up. Mash was on the Kestrel as we share our carriage with a grumpy Farmer Giles, Pompey fans to Ducks delight and 4 old birds. Booze into lost luggage and straight to the bookies which looked like it had just been built that morning. We was to meet one of Blackys mate but he was having a bit of lumber with the local bobbies. It was a busy old time in London this weekend with lots of London teams at home. Mash is busking yet again, he really comes alive in London but pressing a emergency button direct to the police was enough to calm him down. But the Police were not far away and our 2nd arrest of the season came, in the shape of the pineapple, It was leaking everywhere anyway. A disappointing result and to boot we nearly miss our train. It's quite a eventful trip home as we meet some Coventry who don't mind paying over the odds in our little booze market. A few Rule Britannias and lots of ale, but all good things come to a end and this is in the shape of filth at Milton Keynes who laid down the ground rules and declared it a dry train and smashed the booze mush to Gaz's despair. . . well almost all as we salvaged some. Belter shit himself and Seb was in chat mode. Back in Preston, Blacky fresh from New Zealand went to the land of nod as the rest of the boys ended in a shock move by going to Squires. May: The season offically finished at Bristol City, but it started with sleeping rough in West Brom and it damn sure finished in a farce. Blacky, Conway, Gaz and Mash were due to go. With only 15 hours to go Mash discovered his tax disc was out of date so it was panics stations as we tried to make alternate arrangements including 3.10am National Express. It ended with Gaz and Conway turning up to the train station at midday, too late to go Bristol but time for a little jaunt starting with a bottle of Rose in Warrington. Next stop was Widnes then onto Liverpool were they was brefiending folk again. It wasn't long before it was a romantic meal for two in a italian but things went a bit tits up when Gaz + candles + tissue + flame = FIRE. Wasn't long before they was back on ale and upsetting folk before realising they'd only missed the last train back to blighty. Oh shit was the general consensus as it was in West Brom, Luckily some guy overheard there plight and offered to take them home on a coach for free! He was only going Wigan but went out of his way for them. Top bloke. He even took Gaz's number and sent us back to the pub until he was gonna set off!! It finished with something a little different . . . a trip to Squires with Nez, Seb and Gordy June: We had a decent entourage on this one to the tune of 15 heading to the ODI between England and New Zealand at Durham. We were to meet at the Preston rugby club early doors and eventually everyone turned up – just. A pissed up ramble to the top of the moors and the bus driver does a top turn and we stop off at at a butty shop all the while Gaz is more interested in getting naked by the side of the road in the spongies. Wasn’t too long before we arrived in Durham, while half the crew head to find a Cash machineonly to return pissed up 45 overs later - things that a £1.50 beater can do. A few beers in Durham and we headback and half the group are making “slicks” with there hair and beer. One of our patrons Ed, is cracking funnies offending everyone with us all in stitches but not so were 75% of the hiers and graces around us. We eventually get peace and quiet as Cheets falls asleep on the guy infront after a long informed chat with a Trinidadian behind. The day wears on and the ale and sun starts to take the better judgement as the atmosphere goes arse over tit encouraging the straight members feeling they have no option but to go home. It ends with fans being escorted out by the police, Stewards rushing to outbreaks of new “beer snakes” and fighting leaving 1 plod sparko. England victorious we head home were Duck ends up with a bust lip, Ed and Lyndon have severe concussion after heading butting the mini bus and Ed’s also fallen face first in some nettles. This isn’t before Ed has nearly stolen the fucking mini bus on our return after being tea leaved be Lyndon. Great Scenes all day long and another season wrapped up. |

| Mash and Gaz struggling with the pace |

| Usual Ale Haul |

| Zenits Lunatic Fringe - No Money, No Central Heating, no job . . . |

| Moscow sight seeing in one whole 360 degree turn |

| Suited up Barnsley bound with the old foe - ALE |

| Boob antics at Hull caught in Nuts |
| For Those who missed the nation Anthem like us, this is an Austrians view . . .Just look at the shock - Priceless |

| Boys with Bobby - RIP |

| Delivering a personalised thanks from Mike Bassett, 24 years to the day that England trashed the place and was told never ever would they be allowed back - erhh WRONG! |


| The Derby 7 |


| How not to order drinks in A Wellington bar |



| No restrictions on Seb's refreshment trolley going Charlton |

| Gay Paree gets a bit manly, well in one corner anyway |

| You'd be forgiven to think we was off Jamaica . . .Well it was London |

| Gaz semi naked with an arm in Widnes |

| "straight member" |

| and it must be said what a fucking rum little season it has been. First things first we survived, and secondly we have been fairly active on the International front. The first disaster belonged to the Wembley game and the second is definitely them horrendous Spongies. |