My first visit to Bramhall lane was certainly memorable enough.
Obviously all Lancashire v Yorkshire games are pretty "lively" and this was no exception.
The first thing I noticed after getting off the coach and walking to the ground was it was kicking off all over the place and a police Land Rover was upside down in the middle of the road. Careless driving or the result of an earlier run in with marauding City and Blades fans?
Either way I have never seen anything like that before or since.
Anyway because of the usual shite service Yelloways coaches we got there pretty late and didn't have time for a pre-match pint, so it was straight around the the away end.
The place was absolutely mobbed, with no chance of getting inside in time for kick off.
We decided to pay into the home seats to the left of the away end, and within seconds we sussed by a lone copper as City fans, we claimed we had paid in the wrong stand by mistake.
He told us to wait there and said he'd be back with someone to help us get to the City section.
Chessy who was our leader for the day because he was two years older than the rest of us piped up.
"Fuck that,they are either going to nick us or chuck us out. Let's do one and find our own way to the away end"
So we set off jogging around the maze of tunnels around the back of the seats, it was pretty similar to the scene in Spinal Tap where the band cannot find the stage.
After about 10 minutes of wandering around in a state of confusion and displaying navigational skills not witnessed since Mark Thatcher went driving in the desert, we eventually found ourselves walking up a tunnel leading onto the pitch.
So there we were stood on the touchline in between both sets of fans, the game was in progress and at that very moment the ball was kicked out for a hotly contested decision with City on the attack.
After a delay the linesman gave a corner to City.
The home fans were incensed. while the City fans behind the goal cheered enthusiastically as did our small group on the touchline.
Spotting this we were immediately charged at by dozens of pissed off inbred Yorkshiremen, only to be saved by the red railings surrounding the pitch.
Unable to physically get at us they bombarded us with spit and hundreds of coins.
Being Mancunians, instead of fleeing we gave our rivals the thumbs up and proceeded to pick up the money and pocket it. We made out like bandits apart from Charnock who got one in the eye and stopped cashing in while he unwisely chose to abuse our kind Yorkies. This carried on for a few minutes until the old bill showed up and escorted us to the City end behind the goal.
With our pockets weighed down with a few quids worth of spare change in each pocket we made our way to our own fans to a standing ovation from them.
Even the Blades lads saw the humour on our scally antics and gave us a round of applause as well.
The game was a dull 0-0 draw, but the look on the landlords face on the way home when we paid for a round with our "donated" beer money was almost as tasty as the ale itself.
Obviously all Lancashire v Yorkshire games are pretty "lively" and this was no exception.
The first thing I noticed after getting off the coach and walking to the ground was it was kicking off all over the place and a police Land Rover was upside down in the middle of the road. Careless driving or the result of an earlier run in with marauding City and Blades fans?
Either way I have never seen anything like that before or since.
Anyway because of the usual shite service Yelloways coaches we got there pretty late and didn't have time for a pre-match pint, so it was straight around the the away end.
The place was absolutely mobbed, with no chance of getting inside in time for kick off.
We decided to pay into the home seats to the left of the away end, and within seconds we sussed by a lone copper as City fans, we claimed we had paid in the wrong stand by mistake.
He told us to wait there and said he'd be back with someone to help us get to the City section.
Chessy who was our leader for the day because he was two years older than the rest of us piped up.
"Fuck that,they are either going to nick us or chuck us out. Let's do one and find our own way to the away end"
So we set off jogging around the maze of tunnels around the back of the seats, it was pretty similar to the scene in Spinal Tap where the band cannot find the stage.
After about 10 minutes of wandering around in a state of confusion and displaying navigational skills not witnessed since Mark Thatcher went driving in the desert, we eventually found ourselves walking up a tunnel leading onto the pitch.
So there we were stood on the touchline in between both sets of fans, the game was in progress and at that very moment the ball was kicked out for a hotly contested decision with City on the attack.
After a delay the linesman gave a corner to City.
The home fans were incensed. while the City fans behind the goal cheered enthusiastically as did our small group on the touchline.
Spotting this we were immediately charged at by dozens of pissed off inbred Yorkshiremen, only to be saved by the red railings surrounding the pitch.
Unable to physically get at us they bombarded us with spit and hundreds of coins.
Being Mancunians, instead of fleeing we gave our rivals the thumbs up and proceeded to pick up the money and pocket it. We made out like bandits apart from Charnock who got one in the eye and stopped cashing in while he unwisely chose to abuse our kind Yorkies. This carried on for a few minutes until the old bill showed up and escorted us to the City end behind the goal.
With our pockets weighed down with a few quids worth of spare change in each pocket we made our way to our own fans to a standing ovation from them.
Even the Blades lads saw the humour on our scally antics and gave us a round of applause as well.
The game was a dull 0-0 draw, but the look on the landlords face on the way home when we paid for a round with our "donated" beer money was almost as tasty as the ale itself.
No comments:
Post a Comment