| 2008/09 Diaries - Terrorism, arrests, shitty high chairs . . . PrestonAways greatest season??? |
International Grounds: Fc Hallien 04 Stadium, Fir Park Motherwell, Gaddaffi Cricket Stadium Lahore, Olympic Stadium Minsk, Olympic Stadium Berlin, MGM Arena Las Vegas, Punjab Cricket Association ground Mohali, Liberty Stadium Swansea, Olympic Stadium Almaty, Orjans Vall Halmstad, Domestic Grounds: Portman Road Ipswich, Hillsborough/Bramall Lane Sheffield, Ricoh Arena Coventry, Turf Moor Burnley, Bombsite Road Blackpool, Molineux Wolverhampton, Madjeski Stadium Reading, St. Mary's Southampton, Forest Ground Nottingham, The Valley Charlton, City Ground Bristol, Keepmoat Stadium Doncaster July: It all started on a Wednesday night as we headed to Stansted and onto Salzburg for the rental car which was to take us to Munich for a big night on the tiles in Bavaria for pre-season with Hurricaine, Atky and Grimble. Eventually find the hotel after trial and error and as the lads head out for a spot of sight seeing, 16 hours travelling has fucked me so i'm off to bed. Lads return with some "shit hot" information on a bar crawl, so it's decided we'll terrorise this tonight. So we get to the bar for unlimited supping for 2 hours. We've fly the English drinking flag with honour supping 17 litre's of beer and 3 litres of Sangria in 2 hours leaving the 4 Aussies in our shadows, 8 Yanks in awe, 8 Spanish in disgust and 2 Canadians worshipping us, It was worth the 15 Euro just for that. In the 2 hour we've taught our "Foriegn Allies" Rule Britannia, and while going from bar to bar each pub get's left with it ringing in there steins. One snake thinks he copped off with a chink only for her to tell him that "Wour dannshing too clossssshhheeeee" - Gutted. The guide pours around 50 shots of some shit, most have one or two shots leaving me and Hurricaine to hoover the remaining 20 up between us like fucking animals, The "allies" were shocked, Canadians chuffed. We eventually make it to Beerhaus were Hitler used to deliver rousing speeches, the guide said he would walk us through. The Ommpah band was about to play, however they had spotted us and the “allies” and was waiting for us to leave, but we was waiting for them, so they started to procced with caution! I was pissing my sides as we all started to do a disco rave to this brass band, even funnier was some Japanese who got up on the one of the tables and started dancing, thinking it was the norm. Security called and upon leaving we and the fellow 20 odd allies left the beer house to a rapturous chorus of Rule Britannia, funny thing was only around 20% were English. We are eventually that pissed it’s just me and Atky attempting to make our way home via me tripping over a tram line with my pants at my ankles. Atky ends up asleep in a bush. It's decided on waking up it's a good call to get the hell out of Munich before we are chased out, so without too much a do, half cut i'm doing a ton sixty down the Autobahn. Not long before we enter Salzburg. Out and about we have a few beers, but this isn't before Atky gets caught out doing a Borat "how much" at 2 tarts and them understanding every word and receiving a barage of "ginger" abuse for his troubles. We end up in a Gentleman's club were one snake has a "Turkish delight" after being recommended by Bruce a OTT Cockney bar owner where we'd ceased supping. Match days arrives and we've got the Bamber bridge of Austria, F.C. Hallein, It's only 20 miles from Salzburg so we spend the morning dossing around town before heading to see my biggest ever Preston win, 11-0. There's about 20 fans including former old timer Nobby, who we organise a rendezvous for later that night. Good to there word we meet for drinks at Bruceys and with a few locals brews in us we was never going to miss a chance to let people know who was in town. Salzburg is a singers paradise with narrow streets echoing like hell, so to enhance British relations abroad we sang them a song. Coldplay? Was it fuck, Rule Britainnia followed by GSTQ as we entered Salzburg main square packed with 800 drinkers, panic ensued as bouncers locked up and people partied to let us through not really sure what to do. They must have thought we had 50 in tow, no only 6. People was high fiving us, not quite the reception you expect when 6 pissed up English have just took you square. We run proceedings for a few minutes and decide it wasn’t worth the invasion and we head back to the digs. Sunday we head back to the airport drop the car off and back home after a right tip top trip. Mash decided to drive the short trip up M6 to Morecombe. Off to pick Conway up, who's late as fuck, then to the Bronx to pick Seb up, leaving quickly before someone tries shooting us and finally Duck. Booze is on the menu and the trip was only to say "we'd been to Morecombe, more of a piss up really. Arrive and straight to Toby Carvery, were it was tempting just to stay all day but again we decide to go on with 3 kids and a adult. 3-0 up after 10 minutes and there distraught to find no bar, 20 minutes in they contemplate fucking game off but stick it to half time and to 60th minute when they have had there moneis worth apart from a adult paying Seb, So back to Preston to join Gaz's and Lyndons birthday bash, suprisingly finishing in Squires. Next was a trip North of the border to Motherwell, The Moscow of the U.K. It had only been organised 20 hours before kick off and was more of a social outting. Grimble had headed up in a seperate car nicknamed the "Mobile Bingo Hall" just to because the average age of its occupants being 86. He tried to have us off with a knock off Stone Island jumper called Pebble Island and was later seen on his arse in a flower bed. A few McEwans were nice and cool but as for fried pizza, pie or blackpudding was a little too much of flirting with a heart attack. Decent 1-1 draw. August: The season started away to Ipswich as me, Gaz, Seb and Mash headed to Ipswich. It was a strange trip, not so much for going on the 'ofish' Coaches, more so that "Deputy Dogg" reminised about banning two hoodlums for having booze on the same fixture the previous year, little knowing he was telling the exact hoodlums. The trip was quick as we had the pleasure of dealing with some "not rights", having crack with "DD" and myself having to put up with 70 year old Elsie grinding her "tired" body against my flat as a pancake cock as she did some strange flirting with me calling me "that big fat bastard from Hull". As we got to Ipswich we had 1/2 hour to get pissed, I ate 5 pints including the glass and Seb spiked himself with Vodka. After a shit start we got the result we wanted then flirted with danger on the way home as we decided to gamble and supp our alcoholic supplies. Our 2nd trip of the season was over the Pennines to Hillsborough. Gaz gave BIG RED a run out with me, Gordy and Mash present. On arrival straight to the Lusher in the pleasant Pudding sunshine. I'd had a few and tried getting on for a OAP, no luck. After a bore draw it was back to the car and attempt to get back to Preston, It got off to a bad starts as we nearly ended up on the dog track, It was all going swimmingly until i managed to retrieve my head from a big bag of family bag Hula Hoops to find we was at the Trafford Centre, ohh dear September: Coventry saw our first choo-choo trip of the season. Present was myself, Belter, Duck and Gaz. On the Train we took Scottish Sam under the wing as Belter necked a pint of Brandy-Orange. Coming home from QPR previous season we'd had a meet with some top Coventry lads and said we'd meet for a drink in the Wheatsheaf so off we went to watch Liverpool v Man United, all the while Belter stored his booze in a bin for later pick up. By this time we was all fucked, Belter was topless and i'd fallen down a hill and was helpless to get up, we'd also lost 2 tickets, so blagging was the new way of entry. I lasted all of 5 minutes before i was thrown out before re-entering and getting thrown out again. Arrested twice in a hour was right bad news, and it didn't help that when I was pulled up in cuffs, my fucking pants fell down leaving a copper to pull them up. We got Gaz in by checking the ticket in the machine and passing the ticket back under the turnstyle to be used again - Genius. What wasn't Genius was dropping a pint on another North Ender who wasn't best pleased by all accounts. The lads finally tracked me down to my place of rest as we set off home, Mash got his ale from the bin and it wasn't long before I was asleep again at Crewe attracting quite an audience including some old bill insistent on giving me mouth to mouth. It was time for the first "international" of the year as we'd booked to go to the ICC Champions trophy in Pakistan, We'd booked and paid for everything but because the muzzers just can't keep there explosives to a coal mine, It was cancelled/ Was that going to deter me? Was it fuckI arrive an Manchester airport at it resembles a Ethiopean food handout, Its fucking Chocca and I'm the only white twat there. I get upgraded to first class and via a stop off in Turkey I arrive in Islamabad fairly unscathed. A 5 hour taxi ride south through the heartland of the Punjab I arrive in Lahore and to my hotel that neighbours what can only be described as a arms dump. On the Friday my tour teams arrives, a driver, a guide and a security guard armed to the arsehole. We do all this tourist claptrap, Lahore Fort, mosque this, Jinnah that, shrine here, All I'm thinking is its fucking roasting and stinks of shit cha. Its Ramadan while i was there, I thought this is were people hailed driving a lorry full of explosives in to a dam, but apparently it's not, So i lose them for a few hours as they go to praise Allah before returning to take me to Wagah border, where the Indians and Paki's have a set to every night in a aggressive flag lowering ceremony. While here I have to put up with some bull shit from a local who wants me to sponsor him to come to the U.K. as he wants to see Birmingham Palace? The next day is a very early start as at 5am some daft fucker from mosque is wailing and its making my ears bleed, So i end up oversleeping. Today we head through some villages to see life and to some palace, them back to the Lahore Museum then to Lahore market were the stench between the shit on the streets and the spices on sale is enough to kill a family of 6. Next we went to the Gaddaffi Stadium, this is a bit more like it, This was one stadium England had been rescheduled to play at. Night was nearly over as a tidy bit of fanny gave me a cheap as chip massage, but in the way of PrestonAway, the shit hadn't started to hit the fan yet. As we ware walking back the police come to my guide and start talking, my guide says i must not panic and to go with the police. NOT TO PANIC - i'm being arrested by Pakistan police, I've seen "Banged up Abroad" in Pakistan and it's fucking grim. I end up being driven at high speed, sirens blazing through the streets not knowing were I am going. We stop and I recognise it as my hotel, was I to collect my stuff and being deported? When I enter it becomes apparent, the hotel we'd booked in Islamabad originally was no more, It'd been blown up by a suicide bomber. My phone was busy all night and what made it worse was the family not being able to get in contact as my phone was in the safe and turned off. I couldn't really have given a shiny shyte but you know mothers and all . . . I'm under curfew and can only leave the hotel with my team as the Embassy try to get me home. But as it develops British Airways stop flying in to Islamabad so the story takes another twist. How the fuck am I going to get home? I'm told i will get my evacuation flight on Wednesday or Thursday. Sunday my Team turn up to take me out, the only way I can leave the hotel now, they ask if i want to go to church, too fuck i do, So instead we went to some park were all the locals play cricket and low and behold i get involved in a game. I was 21 not out but my bowling was shyte to be blunt, what with my gammy shoulder. We then take a trip in the infamous, almost bombed daily train line between Islamabad and Karachi, followed by watching some local cricket and then off to the wrestling. Everywhere I have been over the past few days I have been viewed with curiosity, Why was I here, what was I doing, How heavy was I. One place I wasn't welcome was Lahore's most exclusive restaurant just because i had shorts on and the women might get offended, offended by what i was wondering - A fucking knee cap? As stated, i've been under curfew for the past few days and been wondering how the hell I was going to get out of this shithole, I decided I was going to sneak out, Early wake up, a bribe paid to night watchman and I'm out in a taxi to Lahore airport all the while with a very real risk of getting arrested. No danger I'm through and fly to Islamabad. I can't check in for another 5 hours and so get assigned a security guard to sit with me to starve any potential lunatic off as I'm attracting a lot of attention. Get my seat on the plane and have been sat next to some twat of a imam who is doing his utmost to convert me in his Brummie accent, I just fucking lose it turn round and end up telling him to "shut the fuck up", the whole airplane turns around and the air hostess asks what going on - WINNER - I'm upgraded to buisness class to get away from him. Back into Manchester and home for a long awaited rest also without incident, I'm on shit 9, or should that be anal piss 9 for the day and service station at Bolton is shut. Knowing i won't make it back to blighty i'm left having to have a big shit at Botany Bay and using a Pakistan newspaper I'd brought back to wipe the crack. These certainly beat Wednesday night away in Holland Back on domestic duty, it was like going back to Pakistan with a big crew of us going Burnley - Me, Gaz, Belter, Seb, Gordy, Laura Swin, Kayleigh, Gordy M, Maxi and Sarge. Got off to a bad start when Gaz turns up but forgot the fucking car would you believe. Maxi nearly sets fire to Big Red, all the while everyone's getting shock's of there life in Belters car as Sargie talks about his sexual exploits, all 5 seconds of it. On way to the ground some Burnley tried to have a pop at Sargey and Maxi, but upon seeing yours truly soon ran once he sore his mates had. Anyway piss poor game and glad to get away from the fucking 1920's cesspit. It was almost chops for tea as Gaz nearly mows a sheep down. We was just glad to get this one behind us. October: First England football trip of the season is upon us and its Belarus away with 2 virgins - Mash and Hurricane. A few rashers in thee and VIP style seeing off (My ma' still aint over the Islamabad bombing) and to Heathrow were we was due to stay the night. Through all the bull shit that now goes with flying we have a small contingent of around 30 also doing the same Czech route via Prague, here we meet Tommy and Craig, two lads from Sunderland who frequent the site and after seeing my Preston tattoo and heard me being called Blacky put 2 and 2 together and got 4. Plane held up for us 30 at Prague and arrive in the Soviet throwback of Minsk. We all get in with ease apart from Mash, so eventually when he books his idea's up we're in and away to the "palace". Once in, bags dumped and out for some scran and ale and with 3 litres of beer and 3 large vodka's at £6 it's going to be a heavy night cha. The nights finished with 2 local naked birds roaming the "palace" . . . Apparently. Keeping up the great British reputatation we have abroad we decide to do our cultural bit and head off to see the devastation the krauts caused at Khatyn, a village raised to the ground in WW2, also the lad running the trip more importantly had our tickets. We finish off in the a hotel bar where we meet many a troop from long ago, but the beers are 5 fucking quid, so fuck that for a game of soldiers so it's back to the previous nights haunt, were one of the lads see's an old flame and the bar staff look rather edgy tonight after 25 "Skins" singing GSTQ. Our "palace" is getting a bit of a reputation and god knows what the neighbours think as some of the lads end up getting some flesh from a fucking BUS STOP at 2.30AM Up with the larks I'm out for a mooch and after some breakfast I make my way towards the groundI Get in and the pitch looks rough, isn't painted and isn't long before security are throwing me out. Back to the room to meet the boys and we get some scran and meet Spiv and Scouse on the 50p litres of beer. Tommy, Craig, Binnsy and entourage arrive. The beers are going down swimmingly and England have took over the small area of Minsk much to the suspicion of the natives. We bless it with a few GSTQ's, Rule Britannia's, 10 German bombers etc etc. We are offered a "toe to toe" with number 23 hooligan in whole of Belarus, however he still has to perfect his communication as he asks in the hearing radius of the Belarussian Old Bill. Its also come back to me that we was being tailed by a lovely little tart, who only turned out to be undercover Belarussian KGB, so no wonder it didn't go down well as I serenaded her with Kinks by Lola and offered to leave a bit of a English deposit between her legs. Its that time and we head off to the Dinamo stadium and in with the locals in the Belarussian end. Through check point one, through check point two, through check point three and again I have breached security in another part of the world on behalf of my nation. We shock the locals as we sing our national anthem and around 1,000 sets of eyes are on all 10 of us, but we don't give a fuck. Some locals want photos and being the good folk that we are we oblige. Back to the flat for a quick kip and isn't long before we are arriving back in Heathrow. Mash cracks me up all the way home making prank calls about bears in service station car parks and stories of him shitting himself. Sheffield United was our first overnighter of the season and we had a birthday boy in Conway on board along with me, Mash, Gaz, Gordy, Seb, Ducky and Maxi. We'd got supping supplies in at ASDA which also excitedly brough about the viewing of a old lads favourite - Frenchy. We set off to Manchester to meet Duck who suprise suprise was late so half waited and half set off for Sheffield. The second lot made friends as you do with a bird called Rebecca who regardless that she was on her way to work supped happily, This was while Ed told some bird he'd love to stick his helmet in to her! We was thrown out of 'Spoons number one as Conway mistakenly took a sink for a urinal. We made it to 'Spoons 2 but was banned for being too rowdy, enough was enough, we was off to check in, leaving Ed and Conway in the hope this would give us half a chance of checking in. We eventually get some African befriending us and decided he wants to go on the game, so taxi's to the ground. This is were the debacle starts. Ed's refused entry along with Mash and Conway. It wasn't till later on back at base we was one man down and a phone call to the old bill found one had been arrested. third arrest of the season. We sup back at base waiting for the accused to return of which he does to chants of "your going down with the Spurrrsssss". Some went for a curry, some went to 'Spoons number 3. It wasn't long before we was banned from there after a rather unsavoury game. As the night continued we all seemed to pair off which left me and Gordie locked out sleeping in a corridor as Duck was about stealing Gordies food. Next day the group split into two as some wanted to carry on supping while others had other business to attend to. With a landslide on the train track it took longer than anticipated but we all got there eventually. November: Our final away game of 2008 took us to the hamlet at the bottom of the M55, we'd been to Wigan for Maxi's birthday night before and the talk was all about the attempted rape of Gordie. Anyway, me, Mash, Maxi and his dad and Laura Swin had a derby to get to, while others dashed to a feckin christening. On what was a beautiful day, we beat the fucking rentboys 3-1 which left a pleasant taste in ones mouth for our domestic 2008 season. With Away trips finished for 2008 at domestic level, we still had 3 huge International trips before year out and the first was 6 of us going Berlin for the "friendly". Me, Hurricaine, Jonny E, Gaz, Duck and Stu head to Manchester were we nearly miss our flight due to Burger King. Fly to Ireland for a 5 hour piss up before leaving without problem to the relief of a thankful Guardia. Arrive Berlin, straight in no problems down to the "meatwagon", this being a train carriage for England fans only with a scattering of 20 Robocops, It was a nice touch! Pull in to Alexanderplatz and a waiting comitee has formed, 10 English old Bill who are fairly eager to have a word with us, we are in for count and usual questions commence - Name, team, address before we are set free in to the rainy Berlin evening. Taxi to apartments dump our gear and here we are, England away in Berlin cha. A good feed is due so off to the steak house before meeting up with Spiv and his lads who'd only done the honours and secured us tickets for the game. The night gets on and some fancy a gentlemans club, so again the group splits in to two as some go to a bar and the others head to the sauna. It's 3am before we leave East Berlin and as I get back Ducks creeping around in the fucking shadows for some reason. Next day I head on a city tour as the rest please themselves before we eventually meet up again and head to the ground were we find a cracking bar, hang flags and get on the ale. This powder keg fixture had the potential to blow and that it did as 500 Germans used ewt they could get there fucking hands on to launch at the England fans, all the while we was baton charged and tear gassed by the Kraut old bill. The Germans then decided there best chance of ever winning an argument was to attack the straight fans at the England turnstyle. Eventually make it to the turnstle we're going to try and jib into with the wrong tickets and it resembles a war zone, glass everywhere, eventually get in the England end and its a right result, til we find it was only a turnstyle and were mixed again, what was the fucking point in that then? Some get in the England end with the wrong tickets, some don't. Once we sung the national anthem in there end i was happy to leave but was glad i didn't as we snatched a fucking win on there manor. Now the ride back on the train was immense, packed full of English with GSTQ, 10 German bomber and Rule Britainnia ringing out. Arrive back in central Berlin and we head for a few pints and a bite as sirens are screaming out. We lose one lad who fancies shooting his fat in a street walker, but my fate was different as I headed back, packed my bag and had a bath as i had a 6.30am flight to Las Vegas to catch . . . After 3 days in Berlin and 12 hours sat next to some Mexican gangster wannabe with his story's and "Ross Kemp on gangs" book I arrived in Chicago. I begin my "I'm British let me in" swagger. However G.I. Joe had different idea's and just wasn't happy with my Pakistan stamp. I'm pulled into an office for an hour for along the lines of Why did you go Pakistan? How long for? Who do you know? Whats their phone/email? Where did you go? What did you see blah de blah de blah to the point you felt like saying fucking let me in you daft twat or deport me. Anyway an armed escort and battery car ride to my gate I'm escorted out of Chicago to the bemusement of some passengers. Arrive in Vegas and not long before i'm supping £1.50 Bud's, after a few drinks with mates we head to a all you can eat buffet at the Sahara, there face's dropped like a sack of shit when big lad turned up and all of a sudden it shut at 10pm. Wake up for a swim in the beautiful late November Nevada sun before I do some serious damage on credit card at Rochester designer shop. Back to hotel have a few beers with the entourage before heading down to the MGM for a few beers with Spiv who has also travelled and to see the weigh in. We end up on the top of the Stratosphere, 1200 feet up on the ride Insania. It takes a bit of breathing in and a lot of he ho-ing to get the beef in, but we are in eventually, Good ride but I'm stuck in the fucker. The security bar won't open. I'm just getting ready for a night stuck in with a few beers and McD's when after a few minutes I'm a free man. Finish the night with few beers and a huge chinky, knowing i'd never get in that ride now, So I'm left to my own devices at the roulette table. So I change my $150 in to chips and within 1/2 hour I'm at $863. Its good enough for me cha, So I cash in and off to bed. Wake up look over bed side cabinet and theres $863 in $100's, a $50, a $10 and $1's I'm like what the fuck, then it dawns on me - WINNER. Up to the pool for a bit of R&R and a bit of a crack with a scouser who was on my roulette table who'd got to $1400 but settled for $400 and some southerner who reckon he train the US air force - I took his word for that. A huge feed and a few beers led me to meet Pete, a Chelsea lad, were we passed half a hour before my entourage turned up, few beers to steady pre fight nerves before heading down to MGM for a few beers with Spiv and Di, just making it in time before Ricky emerged. Ricky Job Done and we exit all glorious and rather happy with ourselves as we weave through the MGM to raptures of "there's only one Ricky Hatton" as onlookers can only look amazed as 7,000 Brit's make there way out for a pavement disco. Security try there best but one guys going do fuck all. We make it in to the safety of the Monte Carlo as Ricky Hattons name rings down the strip. One last bash on roulette comes up trumps winning $135 off $50 making my trip total a sweet $998. I'm calling it a night as I have to be up at 5.30 am to get my flight home, arriving Manchester some 20 hours later. December: Our last trip of 2008 seen PrestonAway head to India for Englands final test match of the series. So Manchester to Heathrow to Abu Dhabi and problems aplenty already. The flights to Mumbai has been changed to 8 hours later and I have everything booked to rights. So I'm giving it the "this aint good enough" malarky, and just to shut me up I manage to blag a direct flight to Delhi in buisness class, and as a "gesture of goodwill" i'm put in buisness class lounge with free food, beer, showers and a personal escort to the flight - Bargain. Arrive in to Delhi, a quick passage through customs and it leaves me 1/2 a hour to get to the train station in hectic capital of India - He's only drove like a maniac and fucking made it, Chuffed to fuck I was, till I find its the wrong station. Tail between legs i make my way through the subway system to the correct station arrive 20 minutes after the train was due to leave, but in India nothing runs smoothly and i'm on to a winner, it's been delayed by 4 hours. Eventually arrive in to Chandigarh, but nearly miss getting off it as the cunt of a guard didn't wake me up, so I rush off the train in just my shorts and end up getting dressed proper on the platform, straight to my hotel for a shower and some tucker and i'm pounding the streets in search of a ticket. Being India there's no ticket booths, you buy them 5 miles away from a Bank, so eventually i make play albeit 1 hour late. In 60 hours I'd had about 6 hours sleep and my body was telling me i was getting to old for this caper, after a few beers and half the chicken population of India all was good again. Next day was into the Barmy Army stand, flag erect and the 2nd day was almost as painful as the first day as India had been in for nearly 2 days. Day 3 got a bit naughty, as we ended up ransacking a police wagon, we was like a fucking army, Police sticks, caps, helmets and shields, we’d been in the fucking gun cupboard had we been able, We was patrolling around like the boys 100 years ago and not a splutter from the old bill. That was till the next day when the big inquest started and everyone was getting questioned to were all the gear had gone. Skulls were rolling at H.Q. Anyway we was having a few foggy mornings with the cricket sometimes starting 2 hours after schedule, but this suited us right down to the ground as it give us extra drinking time the night before. One of the best nights was the “Local boozer crawl”, this was a right rum do of visiting boozers off the beaten track, were only the locals knocked about and categorically ripped apart, however this ended on a sour note as we got a lock in but the old bill turned up, attempted to knock the door down as 15 English escaped through the back door into a back street and scarpered, funny as. I’d love to be a illegal immigrant cha. Anyway as with Israel, Estonia, Germany, The Ukranian boxing magazine, I sort of became a celebrity overnight. I don’t quite undertstand why this happens but it was top heavy, needing a police escort from the ground and one night a riot broke of which the riot police had to attend with what equipment we hadn’t nicked to quell photo/autograph hunters. It was planned to head down to the pit of Mumbai, but by this time I’d met John and Seth and they was doing my head in with overtime of heading down to Goa for Christmas, and to be fair a 30 hour train journey of which I was only on a waiting list had about as much appeal as aids. Before I know it I’m in a fucking 4x4 Delhi bound with 4 other English lads with one journey I will never forget. With a crate of Kingfisher we drive in fog so dense the visibility was about 2 to 3 feet and the stop off at Piss City, honestly the smelliest place you’ll ever come across , even the locals held there noses and this is fucking India. Piss city says it all. India’s great, you can fart like a fucking trooper and with them being dirty twats its smells no different if not better. Into Delhi Airport, tickets booked, 5 hours kip on Delhi airport floor and we’re into Goa for Christmas eve. By 8pm Christmas eve I was sat on a beech supping Kingfisher, it wasn’t a bad old life. Christmas day came and the beer, spirits, cocktails and wine went down the gullet. It was fucking great, feet up having a little Indian slave to rub my feet down saving the dead skin for a 5 course meal of there own. Boxing day was a rough affair and was pretty much spent asleep on the beach before doing my “shopping”. 27th was here and I got myself to the airport and into Mumbai when cunt of a taxi driver tries to cheat me and dumps me in a slum. Eventually get myself out and by a run of luck bump into him at the International airport were I cause a right fuss calling him a fucking cheat, liar and fraud causing a bit commotion, and once the police put him in his skip he gives me a sliced throat sign and I give him a wanker for good measure. End up having a bit of chatter with Justin and Claire who I’d met in Chandigarh before nearly boarding the wrong flight to the right destination. Into Abu Dhabi a bit more shopping and meet up with Justin and Claire for one last rendevous before I’m all aboard for Manchester and home via a customs pull for 400 cigarettes – and they wonder why they are labelled twats. January: The away day drought was finally over as we used Wolves away as a chance to celebrate Sebs birthday. Another early start as we were on the 8.17 train and Seb, Beltz, Gordy, Duck, Max, Barnes and Gaz met with a shit load of ale, mainly a mix of Xmas left overs! Train trip flew by and in no time we were in Wolves scurrying around in the bushes looking for somewhere to stash the excess booze. Trying to find the pub we had a meeting with the old bill. They weren't even after us but we went over anyway, force of habit perhaps? We were told to be careful as the accents a dead give away! Now i forgot to mention that Beltz had given a can of Guinness to Maxie that contained a viagra and although it was a shock to him it was no surprise to us when he got a random stiffy! It was hard work trying to find an away fans boozer and in one pub it nearly fucking blew. So by midday we were in our 3rd lusher and Gordy got us on the shots! Then it was off to the ground were I successfully got in as an OAP. Top result and we head back to the station and we rescued our cargo, nicely chilled given the -3 temperatures under the bemused and extremely interested Old Bill, and we jumped on the first train back to Preston we could find where we befriended a pregnant girl and were soon home and in the Old Vic. A few lads joined the party who hadn't travelled and it wasn't long before lads started to drop like flies As Gaz and a few lads went for a curry While the remaining few of us ended up in squires giggling at Duck pulling the spitting image of his sister. Great day, great result and great start to 2009. Back in business cha! We are the proverbial midweek bottlers, but with a chance to see a new stadium me, Gaz and Mash decided to do Swansea away midweek in January. It started with me and Gaz loitering outside 'Spoons at 8.50am waiting for a pint and breakfast hoping no one would see us. We eventually get the bounty and there's a good handful of us there. Off to Sumners for a quick top up before we head south stopping at the 'Spoons number 2 in Neath. i'm saying fuck all about this game but a 5 hour trek home on a red hot coach and with my arse working like a fucking Russian nerve gas factory a rather smelly coach was not the perfect setting to get 3 hours sleep before work. Febuary: Our next outing was Reading and with a debutent on driving in the way of Dave Swindells it left me, Mash Duck and Gaz doing what we do best - Drinking. It'd been a cold week so the boot was the perfect fridge especially with a special sample of some Indian wine in tow. Mash was pissing like a race horse as progress was slow. Arriving Reading Nicely oiled we had Mash lining up a decorating job in Milton Keynes under the name Peter Barlow. Big job worth £2k set up for Monday much to the delight of the local decorator. The smile would but wiped off his face on the Monday when he rang Belter to confirm only to get his dad Ken Barlow on the phone. A few more ales and we are on to the ground while I get body searched by the stewards that reveal 30 Viagra's. It was a decent result, certainly after the Wales debacle and with Belter topless all game he was commended about his effort by some bird and his response by quote "i just love the club" as he walked off straight faced. It wasn't long before we was dropped off at our respective points, with Gaz's being a solo in Squiress, as I was left counting my big money win with the West Indies murdering England 51 all out. A year on from celebrating Blackys Birthday in Northampton we were off to Southampton for our latest cross country exhibition. We had two cars with me, Gaz, Mash, Duck in one and Ed, Conway and Conway junior in the other. We'd been sick notes all week so i needed a microwaved Whiskey/Lemonade ailment to get me going. In Salsbury we were flying along nicely until Belter spotted something and stuck it in reverse to go back for a closer inspection- it was a hitch hiker and the next thing we know he was squeezed in between Gaz and Duck in the back! "Hippy Potter" was soon supping our ale and telling us of his environmental protests and what not. After a little bit of blagging we find the hotel and found the hotel where the red carpet was out to greet us at the Hilton! Departing was the North End team. Bags dumped we are off to meet the other boys at there hotel, who have done a great job at what they do best - trashed the fucker, fire extinguishers off, walking around topless with cocks drawn and "arsewipe" on there backs etc etc. After the game in no uncertain terms we've banned Ed and company from a 10 mile radius of ours and as we get our taxi we see Karl Hawley on a expensive jaunt back to Preston in a South Ribble taxi. We eventually make it back to the Southampton 'Spoons were we meet up with Fake Nez's lads and our other group. We are celebrating Des'tonia's "stag do" and he has a big distraction apparently as his drink is spiked with a Viagra all the while Ed was walking round with his cock out much to the surprise of the locals! But the crowning glory was when a phantom dumper layed a log on a children high chair then vanished out of sight. Wonder who that might have been then. Southampton like to think there a bit of big time so after a small altercation in one club, banned from another for laughing we headed to one last night club but it wasn't as easy as enter and we never did work out the terms and conditions to get in, so suprise suprise finished off in a curry house all paid for on Gaz's plastic. Next morning we struggle up for a killer Hilton breakfast. A dehydrated Blacky drank his own weights worth of orange juice! We then used the facilities being the pool and steam room. Duck and Blacky had a close encounter with a pair of "jelly fishs" but they resisted the urge to touch and didn't get stung!! After posing on the red carpet Gaz felt rough as and the thought of 4 hours in the car did not look good. Luckily it was a short term thing and i was soon back to annoying the lads with my singing! By this time it was after 2 and we were just leaving Southampton! And it weren't long before we decided to go to a pub in Cheltenham! In we went and Blacky soon had a new friend, we left him to it while we watched soccer! Quick chippy then back on the road home making good time. March: Mash is on a duo for this one with his own brother who strangely is a Forest fan. Mash is put off with Matts stories of how regular he is a Motorway crash victim. Arriving there late they have to shelve plans to go for a pint so head there separate ways, Mash in as a kid as per usual. Another away defeat and Mash tells me he pretend to be asleep all the way home, similar to my Ipswich exploits to avoiding listening to shit Eventually arriving home for 12:15am, straight to bed, only to find out in the morning Mash had forgot to set his alarm and is 45 mins late, NOT SOUND. So what you going to do? Ring in sick and leave voicemail. Charlton was going to be a bit different, the lads were staying at home and the fossil was coming, however the ale was still present. As we took our 8pm train on the Friday night. There was a slight sprinkling on Nobbers with one large concentration of rowdy buggers in the next carriage. The MET obviously hadn’t been tipped off because at 10.15pm prompt in Euston was 40 North Enders pissed out of there head to the tune of “Wise Men” making fellow travellers avoid us like the plague. Dump the bags in hotel by Euston and straight to the George IV for some continued supping. At the same time I was cracking first sup open away to Wolves I was now being a culture vulture seeing London Tower and London bridge while getting a sneaky pint and breakfast in at a 'Spoons. After the game Fossil was still mad for it as we head back to Central London and did a bit more sightseeing taking in St Pauls and the Old Bailey, hoping not to end up there all too soon. Fresh'un up and it bring back memories of Septembers trip to Pakistan as we head to Bangla-town for a slap up curry. Again another early wake up and we’re down to Churchhill GHQ under ground war bunker, the control centre to our defeat of them bloody krauts back in World War 2. We also take in Trafalgar Square, Downing streets before wandering down to houses of parliament and Big Ben brings up the best result of the day, a fucking lusher. 4 Pints later it’s a wander across St James park in the basking sunshine to Lizzie’s gaff, a wander down The Mall and then it’s off to Harrods before catching our train back to Preston via all the African v Arab arguments at speakers corner. April: Bristol City brought the old "Southend trio" of me, Gaz and Belter back together for the drive down to the west country. Was a textbook trip down with the driver swigging cider and sticking the car in with the hgv's while we pissed in the bushes. Arrived there and settled in a pub for a slap up bite and a few more ales. It was Grand national day and we were invited into the grand national sweep, just to make up the numbers i think! Next thing I only have the 100-1 shot - the pub went silent as the only 3 northerners in there slapped about High 5s and hugs to celebrate robbing £50 in there own back yard!! Onto the ground and 3 generations got on - grandad with OAP ticket for me, dad with the adult - Gaz and our kid Mash. We met with Sarge through the game and it wasn't long before we had hitch hiker 2 of the season on the way home as Fake Nezz was to return with us While Sarge was stopping over getting his end away. Back in Preston Gaz, Mash met with Lyndon and Duck for squires before a curry with the National winnings. With the last League away trip of the proper league season we was going out in style and having a overnighter in Doncaster. It was me, Seb,Mash and Gaz who was to drive. We was chuffed to find Yorkshire was on fire as the moors burned like a good one, but what made it all the more funnier was "trumptons" getting there priorties right in helping a horse 1/2 mile futher up the road. We also had a rather close flirtation with a Eddie Stobart wagon as Gaz was giving a woo woo woo woo woo woo woo woo woo while swerving like a maniac in the fats lane. Arrive at our hotel and the word "hotel" should be used in a loose way as it was some monstrosity in the middle of an industrial estate backing onto a graveyard! Still the view was amazing- empty cans, needles and rat traps galore could be seen from our bunk beds! Decked out in shorts we venture out in cloudy Donny through their version of the Chatsworth estate. No pubs in sight Gaz asked an old bloke were a pub was, he looked at us and just cracked up before walking off!! We did eventually find a pub called Baileys which was cheap as chips! 98p for Tetleys, Carlsberg and Diamond White among others. Then came the most disgusting part of the season, if you get queasy easy skip this bit . . . Blacky suffering from heartburn found out that he could cough up the bile/acid which gave him grief. And so after some goading about being a bottler, Belter drank a mix of this stuff and vodka for the tune of £10. I was closest to being sick!! Still early doors we got a pizza and set off on an eventful walk back to the hotel. Blacky was pretending to be a big easter egg rolling down hills and Belter robbed a mosque!! Quick change in the room then back to Baileys hoping for some karaoke action. The night was now in full flow and Donny did not let us down- was banging! But it all got a bit too much for Belter and at midnight he had to disappear for a bite and bed. Meanwhile I had "pulled" and so was off down an alley with my trophy. Gaz and Seb stay out doing there party trick of busting a few moves on the dance floor and emptying them and as a added bonus Seb has a dry night. In the morning we check out and off to a 'Spoons for breakfast before heading to our new local were we are now part of the furniture chatting to the locals and Donnys number 1 shit fan! We contemplated sacking the game off and supping in there all arvo but as Gaz was driving he was not down with this plan! Good job too as game was actually quite good, As Blacky went on his 100th ground! We strolled back to the hotel and big red had not been robbed much to Blacky's disappointment and we were on our way home, no HGV wars this time. So It was back to Vegas in hope I could recreate the ghost of November past. Into New York no danger, and onto Vegas and after a ticker attack victim is removed from the plane, It's straight to my usual hotel and straight to bed, well not quite, you know what I mean lads. Up early doors, wash my knob and sweat off in the pool before it's down for a dangerously large breakfast and then my favourite part, like a women straight to the designer shop to see what new designer threads are in. Made the Spiv jealous when i turned up with his loose "camel" jokes. Anyway i had been to the Hatton Weigh in and it was dead so went for a beer came back and it was only a twatting lock out. Devastated, so we settle for a few beers on the strip before staggering back to my hotel and meeting some boys from previous jaunts. Was in bed at a half reasonable time as it was going to be one long day. Again a early wake up and straight to the hot tub to sweat the ale out, were i couldn't break away from some rather sexy Grandma's who just had me talking to listen to my accent, sadistic eh? a burger then down to the Excalibur were I gradually lose $100 on roultette and $60 on slots - see you later. Meet with the Spiv and Di for beers before moving across to the MGM to finish off drinking formalitites. Into the Arena and after a mix up with tickets, i'm quids in as I have a £400 ticket for £250, downside i'm with all the Yanks and Phillipinos, Anyway any one thats knows me and worth there salt will know this don't phase me and infact made me louder, so much so everyone within a 100 seat radius of me just look bemused as I murdered our national anthem at top lung level cha. I didn't improve and continued my Pro British slander but as people say those who laugh last laugh the longest . . . and they fucking did! Well beaten. Back to the Spivs hotel for pleasantries after a few in the MGM and its early doors before I get back, just enough time to shower pack my bag and get down for my shuttle back to the airport. I was however in the midst of a cloud with a silver lining, my phone had gone mental with texts and the Nobbers had only done the business as well as Sheffield Wednesday and we'd done a miracle, we'd made the playoffs after I'd written them off in March. In to New York, a few goodies and a slap up Chinese and I'd blagged 3 full seats to allow me get some shut eye arriving in Manchester fresh as a daisy. May: It was all to do at Sheffield United after a 1-1 home draw the previous Friday. Half a days work done, ale purchased and on to Blackys were we meet Dave Swindells, Laura, Duck, Seb and Mash. Duck stuck on El-Tel's North End shirt and then into the cars to hit the road with Belter leading and Laura following. The atmosphere in the motor was jubilant and any nerves we had were being drunk and danced away. First stop was a lay by for a piss stop a bar stop on the way although the lack of brandy was disappointing. Into Sheffield and park outside the stadium and off to find a pub which was a tougher test then first thought and the old bill couldn't help as they hadn't been briefed yet??!! At this point news was filtering through that JK had on his solo from Sunderland, so we did the meet and found a pub after confirming it wasn't a gay bar. There was no real atmosphere in the pub that was until I spilt a fresh pint. On to the game and it was a good support but poor result.The lads did us prouder than we cud ever have imagined back on that long coach trip to ipswich (or flight to Austria/ car to Morecambe depending on when you started!) We trudged off with that usual play off feeling and headed home. It finished with one last altercation of the season as some Sheffield Skins "threatened" to kick off but bottled it. See you all next season at Peterborough, Doncaster and Plymouth. June: It was a Monday night train down to Gatwick with the prospect of the floor for 3 hours before my flight to Helsinki, It wasn't all doom and gloom as there was a shower and the all too familiar 'Spoons for breakfast. Leaving a few days early to an obscure country always works a treat against the old bill intelligence. So arrive in Finland with free passage and with me sharing a room with some "not rights" a sesh on the ale was on the cards. So a little bar crawl to the harbour and a kebab before retiring to a red hot room early morning. Wake up in time for a knuckle shuffle and shower before heading to the port for the ferry to Tallinn Estonia, and with the ale on the ferry dirt cheap whats a man going to do? Arrive Tallinn dump the gear and straight on to the square, were we was exactly 2 years ago to the date in a Euro 2008 Qualifying game (See 2006/07 Estonia Away). Some food and a bit of ale and back to put my head down before the grand arrival of Spiv and Scouse. The rest of the night is ours on the piss visiting old haunts before retiring at 1am after a meeting with "Dunegon Dave". Up at 7.30am for the bus to Riga were amongst the topics of conversations was Scouse's sex life, the planning to rob a post office and a new buisness venture "The Glory Hole". Arrive Riga before settling for the last possible decent food and cocktails. Taxi up to the airport and before we know it we are Kazakhstan bound, but not before Scouse is collared by security, Why? Well Security wanted to know why there was dozens of empty pistachio shells in his bag?? Strange bloke! Arrive Almaty, and we can't enter the apartment for another 4 hours, so we walk around aimlessly leaving Spiv to crack up. Finally get in and ours heads down for a few hours and out for some festivities and all it took was a quick word to the restaurant owner and a trip to the stadium with his son and we've got a right result in the form of face value tickets. Being the folk we are we take a wide berth of all the Irish bars and establishments holding the "straight members" and do the "Local Lushers tour", one we're we sup in dives only. We finish the night off in one bar get talking to some Kazakhstan fans who idolise Liverpool, then come some Kazakhstan fans who support Man united and before you know it, it's kicked off, even more shocking one lads disappears only to return with a gun before putting in the magazine and cocking it before his mates put some sense into him, all the while the local Police just look on. We retire at around 4am Wake up on the big day, sort Scouse's registration with them cunts from the F.A. before doing the obligatory sight seeing. Again photo's are wanted with no more than some nearly wed couples who now have 3 pissed up English in there wedding photos, not ones to show your nana eh? Upto the ground for a resounding 4-0 victory of which we watched from the Kazakh end as the norm before meeting Binnsy and heading to Almaty centre to carry on drinks. We get offered a ruck by some 16 year old Kazakh which is flatly refused. As we head home a car pulls up with "Police Police" upon a closer inspection its a bogus copper, and he gets laughed off back into his Lada, obviosuly thinking these English could be more trouble than it's worth Up early Sunday and we was supposed to be heading Kyrgyzstan, but we fucked our Kazakh visa up so it's a train ride into the wilderness and to get off at the 3rd stop which is a place called Kapshagay, step off the train and it really is a shit hole, full of flies and just a desolote industrial shithole in the middle of nowhere. a mile walk down a track brings a shock, there's only a fucking bar, it was a right result so straight in as the vultures were about to start circling. Eventually find a taxi we'd been recommended some kind of Vegas like resort on the lake so we organise a lift there and a return to Almaty after too. On entry to the resort we got talking to some Kazzie lass and when we said we'd been to Kapshagay and her response was "No No Nooooooo, You must not got there if you care for your life, I am from Kazakhstan and I don't even got there" When we come to leave. the cunt of a taxi drivers fucked off so we start the 70km walk back to Almaty hitchhiking before we come across a Kazzie Police checkpoint. They are very suprised to find 3 wandering Englishman out here, that is until a car comes screeching up and on the verge of missing out on a big pay day it's our rather panic'd taxi driver. Close to a heart attack he looks a relieved man. Anyway when someone tells PrestonAway something is dangerous it's a case of going to see just how dangerous it is so back to Kapshagay, change cars and we are Almaty bound before the cars starts to smoke and over heat. We eventually make it back to Almaty and catch the second half of the Kazakhstan/Macedonia u21 game and then we head to a bar for final pleasantries, we pull a right scam paying only 5% of the bill before we have to be on our toes. 3 hours kip and to the airport for a nightmare 7 hours checkin/flight before arriving in Riga. Get to Binnsy's hotel and we can only check in from 3pm and it 12pm, so down for some food before checking in and getting my head down for a few hours before the flight from hell - surrounded by screaming babies and Turks who smell a mix of sweat and onions. I was glad to get home. 10 day after Kazzie, It was time for Sweden and the official solo night out to oxford on the Friday was cancelled after a lorry greatfully dumped it's load of offal on the carriageway, Saturday morning job it was to Spivs before flying in to Gothenburg. Arrive hotel and one thing that Spiv had forgotten to tell me was that we was sleeping on a fucking boat. Dropped off the gear and straight on to town to find some new boozing establishment. Late on we are attracted to some red lights in a building as you do coupled with some Euro beat. Closer inspection reveals no "glory hole but the musics coming from a car park, so up we go to find a alcohol free illegal rave going on, with no booze we are history and with one last attempt at a all night café, we make it back to the 24 hour bar at the boat, which closed a 1am!!! Start Sunday with an unofficial "complimentary" breakfast. We'd had a chore booking hotel rooms but became apparent with 70,000 head bangers in town for an AC/DC concert of all things, so we had to move hotel. Find it check in and theres a fairground across so the big kids we are we spend the next 5 hours in there an it goes down a treat. Back at the hotel we enter the lift then can't remember the rooms number so we try a few floors before admitting defeat and going to reception, however on the way down i drop my guts and as we arrive at the bottom the doors open to reveal a middle aged couple and the lift is horrific so a polite slow walk turns to a brisk walk to a run as Spiv hides in the Mexican buffet and I hide in the bar. Eventually make it back to the room and we head out on our shit lushers tours, as we take in boozers off the beaten track, we end up in a council estate and a feew other strange options before calling it a night. On the Monday train to Halmstad and remove the flag for its first 2009 outing and get to town for a few pints, find a British bar, hang the flag and the bar goes from being empty to literally being full within an hour. These are the days I love, 30 die hard lads, flags and a no go zone for anything that isn't English. There were a few game Germans lads across in another bar, but decided against it as the Swedish polices looked on nervously and a group of 30 Swedes looked on with bemusement. God Save the Queen and Rule Britannia rang from the bar till 15 minutes before kick off before we make tracks to the ground just missing the National Anthem. Even though it was U21 it was a tense old affair with the English/Kraut hatred always there to see. Spiv dying for a piss ended up in one of the plastic shit houses before it was violently jerked by some unknown force, he exited with piss all over his shirt and shorts with "brown ones" apparently going very close. We finished off festivities with a few of the lads before all bars were closed. Woke up and missed Breakfast, but with more pressing issues of a game of mini golf to be had we get the bus to Tykosand, a small seaside town were a convincing 41- 46 win is had on a 50 par by Blacky. Back to Halmstad and the train to Gothenburg, We left Sweden with just 76p left in local currency. Arrive Standsted as Spiv heads off one waya nd me the other, It's a sad feeling, the end of a seasons work, arrive home for 1am before rising for some brickwork at 6am. |
| Pre Season Role Call for the European tour |
| One way not to Approach the German police, |
| 4 Not rights on season opener at Ipswich |
| It wasn't me m'lud |
| Marriott Islamabad "Barbeque" |
| Mash in Minsk |
| Olympic Stadium Minsk |
< Thanks to Helmy for
this excellent video on
dicking Lashers
A German Newspaper
obviously not looking
forward to 10,000
England fans >
this excellent video on
dicking Lashers
A German Newspaper
obviously not looking
forward to 10,000
England fans >
German meat Wagon
A Beef and a Lion at the MGM
Ricky getting to work on the I-tie cum Yank
Christmas dinner in Goa
| Things you have to do to watch cricket on jobseekers, |
8.55am and the punter's are waiting
| The People's favourite moment of 08/09, picking up hitchhiker "Hippy" Potter on the way to Southampton |
| SHIT High chair!!! |
Mash driving to an away game near you
Winning Grand National in Bristol
Vodka and "heartburn"
| Seasons budget blown, we're on bones of our arse's |
| A massive thanks must go to Gaz, who has done a sterling job with the Preston diaries this season, shown here modeling the PrestonAway coolbox took with the PrestonAway DigiCam (Not sure Mash's bird knows we've adopted it) I'm sure you will all agree he has deserved his rest to Cyprus of which i'm sure he "cleanse" the dancefloor with his dancing, see you next season mate, |
| Belarus Number 23 hooligan |
| While I was drowning my sorrows, 7 hours ahead of me this was happening - Miracle |
In the word of Gazza "Fuck off Finland
Is this Borat on the PA system???
Scouse and Spiv in the most Dangerous town in Kazakhstan
| The Bars quickly became under English dictatorship in Halmstad |
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