Most excrutiating journey to an away game.

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seanbeenstattoo said:
Mine was to the Burnley PO final. Coach pick up around 5 AM at some pub in Pitsmoor. Coach departed with me,2 mates and 48 complete and utter fucktards. Not got to parkway before they were hammered and wanting to stick flags in every window. Couldn`t understand why I wouldn`t allow it over mine as I actually wanted to look out of it. Fast forward to Watford Gap and the driver told folk to stop waving cans around as the police would turn us back. Escaped unscathed and reached Wembley. Then kept driving,and driving,and driving. Driver clrearly as fuckwitted as 48 fuckwits behind him. Managed to get in a traffic jam returning to Wembley having spent over an hour randomly driving around only to bring us on the approach back to the Burnley end of the stadium. Having originally got there at 11.00 am its now 13.00 and every road is rammed as were all the pubs on our route,by Clarets. We are at red light after red light and the 48 utter walking abortions think it would be a fine jape to give rods and all manner of insults to the hundreds of Buenley fans outside each pub as we ceawl by.
Bottles,cans and a general movement to take our coach reminds me of away days back in the 70`s and 80`s.
Lights change and issues are avoided. We arrive back at Wembley about 30 mins before ko totally fucked off and totally knowing we would go home fucked off.
We weren`t wrong.
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Hope you're including me as one of your mates on that coach and not one of the 48 Fucktards
:):):):):):):):)
 

I often worked a Friday nightshift before an away game back in the 80's

This particular away game was at Portsmouth, I was driving down there.
I worked until 2.00 am and then my mate said "don't bother going home, come to our house, have a shower, couple of hours kip and we can set off to Portsmouth when we wake up"
All sounded good

We got back to my mates house and hit the cans of beer. His wife came down after a couple of hours and went bonkers because I was supposed to be driving.
She made black coffee and made me go to sleep for a few hours.

At about 7.00 am she woke me up and gave me more black coffee, and I'm talking about 8 cups of it.

We'd arranged to meet the rest of the lads at 8.00 am and by this time I felt knackered.

I set off driving and found a nice pub just outside Portsmouth, it was torture for me watching my mates down pint after pint but I agreed to do the driving so I couldn't complain. But by now I was asleep on my feet. I kept having an odd shandy (proper shandy) to try to keep me awake.

My mates then dropped the bombshell and told me that we had tickets in the Portsmouth end,
We won 3-0 and celebrated every goal, we got run from one end of the stand to the other, we got on the pitch to get away but got hammered by the police and forced back in again.
We nearly got fucking killed.

The police used to drag away fans out of home sections and relocate them in the away end, but you could just see what they were thinking "If you're daft enough to go in there you deserve all you get"

Driving home we stopped in Daventry and my mates carried on drinking until 2.00 am

I had to stop the car every few miles and get out for a walk to try to stay awake

I arrived back in Sheffield dropped them all off home just in time to start work on Sunday morning
 
I hitch hiked to Crystal Palace in 1972 in pouring rain only to have the match postponed due to a water logged pitch at 2-45 pm. Me and about a 100 Blades were already in the ground.

Bratfud sometime mid -1980s I think, (have to cut down on the booze) night match went on the train, only other Blades on board seemed to be hooligans, (average Blade really) met by the Police in Bradford only to be informed the match was off.

Worst was the drive back from Cardiff and the Play Off final, left before end of match to "beat the crowds" and thought I'd be clever and avoid some bridge or other connecting Wales with England as I'd read it would be chaos, Decided to drive through the Rhonda Valley, fuck me, ended up getting stuck by tractor after fucking tractor down little roads in rural Wales. By the time I reached Birmingham all the slow fucking buses were nearly home in Sheffield. Felt like 4 o clock in the morning when I got back
 
Not the worst journey transport-wise, but after we went out in the league cup semi to Spurs, I sat on the train to Donny as devastated as I've ever been. Called the missus on the way home to cheer myself up and she spent the entire conversation explaining how Spurs were the better side.

Gave her the chuck less than a month later.
 
Sheff de party said:
Not the worst journey transport-wise, but after we went out in the league cup semi to Spurs, I sat on the train to Donny as devastated as I've ever been. Called the missus on the way home to cheer myself up and she spent the entire conversation explaining how Spurs were the better side.

Gave her the chuck less than a month later.
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Tut tut.

Took you nearly a month!?
 
Play off final against Udders. Went with brother, his son Mrs.i.am and 2 of our kids. Brother was driving and decided the A1 would be quieter than the M1. This worked well until we ground to a halt just past junction 6.
Having sat in traffic for nearly an hour the police decided to send us back to junction 6.
What ensued was a crawl past Stevenage's ground (rather ironic) finally arriving at our seats at 3.05 pm. The rest is history.
 
Colchester away in 4th division I think. ..lost 5-2 was main match on MOTD. Crammed in back of a mini bus? No windows and could swear it took a week...had 2 shaves on that journey! Got in at 315pm and I think we were already 3 down. Still a million times better than PO finals.
 
vorpal blade said:
my thoughts entirely, I can only assume he's set forth for Bratfud already and is, as we write, standing on the hardest shoulder of them all by the start of the M1.
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I've gone soft; it's the girlfriend's birthday on Saturday and she saw right through my suggestion that we go for a celebration curry in somewhere where they do really good curries like, erm, Bradford.

She said, and I quote, "I'm not going anywhere near fookin' football on my birthday!" which is a bit mean because on my birthday earlier in the year we went to Doncaster away; mind you, she did say to me half way through the second half, "I feel sorry for you having to watch this every week." And that was a game we won.
 
Quite a few so I'll stick with the most recent,Screenshot_20161021-012147.png and because it's late I'll just put a screenshot here.

Two things to note though: 1 - the date shows it was by now the day after the Shrewsbury game; 2 - the trip to Tesco Extra to break up the tedium was actually planned as an expedition to a 24-hour McDonald's where I intended to charge my phone and fall asleep at the table for as long as it took them to chuck me out - it was closed for refurbishment.
 
Anyone for journey back from Port Vale Boxing day before last? Shit game Shit ground and to top it off 6 hours to get back to Sheffield and I hear from some we got off lightly with that
 

Gordon cowans said:
Burnley away fa cup reply on the cup run we lost to the vermin in the semis..........roadworks and a breakdown basically meant it took most blades 5/6 hrs ............the stewards put us on the burnley stand with 10 minutes remaining which ended with fun and games.
A brian deane hat trick eased us through although i missed all six goals.
UTB
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This was mine too although we were lucky enough :rolleyes: to see Burnley score their second goal having missed all 4 of ours. From memory, it was Deano's second hat trick of the week.
 
I've mentioned this one before but.... Reading Away when they played at Elm park and we had Nathan Blake and they had Hislop in goal. We lost 1 nil. One of my 1st away games. Jounrey down was fine, but the journey back was one hell of an adventure for a young teenager.

1st supporters coach had a puncture, so we pulled over everyone got off and stood on the banking. Tyre couldn't be changed so we had to wait for other coaches. 2nd supporters coach picked us up. My dad commented on the loud knocking noise to a fellow passenger "oh its been like that all the way". Next minute there's a loud crash and the coach tips up (as if it's doing a wheelie) at 60 mph on the motorway. The coach driver somehow manages to grind us to a halt with sparks flying out of the back.

So off we get again and go on to the banking (again). We look at the coach to discover both wheels on one side of the coach have fallen off. A passing driver stops and tells us we lost a wheel 3 miles back, the motorway has a long gouge down it.

Another coach then pulls up, much flasher, much bigger. There's a bit of a discussion at the door of the coach and then "All kids get on this coach". This is pre Jimmy Saville scandal so me and my mate quickly turn to me dad and say "see you later!"

Spent the journey back from M42 Tamworth area sat watching Alan Kelly, Brian Gayle et al playing poker and getting all the Blades squad from that day, minus Nathan Blake (he was off into London to sign for someone else) autographs.

It was a nightmare journey back which turned into a dream for 2 young Blades. The best bit was Bryan Gayle ringing my mates mum to tell her we were safe and her putting the phone down thinking it was a prank.

What we'd not considered in our youthful exuberance was we would have to wait at BDBL to wait for my dad to get back.
 
Seems like a lot of us have Burnley away in the cup as one of those games.

I went with the Sportsman Blades, and got caught up in the back up of traffic through Halifax, due to those problems on the M62 that night.

We finally got into the ground just a minute before Deano scored the first of his hat-trick to equalise the early goal from Adrian Heath - which we'd heard the commentary of on the coach.

All went well, until on our way back. 5 minutes out of Burnley and the coach broke down.

We finally got home at around 3.30am - and what's more, most of us were up for work 2 and a half hours later! :)
 
seanbeenstattoo said:
Mine was to the Burnley PO final. Coach pick up around 5 AM.....
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Ditto. Coach should have left BDTBL at 6am sharp. By 6.15 it was obvious that we weren't setting off as one fucktard was late (there's always, always one). The seat next to me was empty and that is where this cunt sat when he finally turned up at 6.30. Usual bollocks as he loudly announced 'couldn't find dog', 'toaster on blink' etc. instead of telling the truth - 'I am the annoying cunt who is late for everything - the bus, the train, the flight, the cruise. I apologise for being a complete and utter twat who will be late for my own fucking funeral'. But they never do, because they don't realise they're fucking oxygen thiefs.
For some reason, the bog on the coach wasn't working so, before we even got to Tibshelf Services (which you could probably reach with a good piss from Sheffield), some weak-bladdered twats were asking the driver to stop. Fast (well, slow) forward to Watford Gap where about 50 coaches stopped and the queues for the bogs were about half a mile long. Never mind. We pulled up outside Wembley at around 11.00 am, the doors to the stadium didn't open till 1.30 and KO was four fucking hours away. Any pubs nearby had massive queues outside, were charging a fiver to get in etc. etc. Instead of insanely early set-off times, the coaches should leave for a game in London at, say 10.00 with the strict proviso that 'no toilet, food, whatever stops will be made'. We WILL depart at 10.00 - no excuses and NO FUCKING RETARDS WILL BE ALLOWED TO BOOK!

Anyway, game over and the driver had asked us to get back to the coach as quickly as possible as getting out of the car park can be a nightmare. No problem! By 6.00 pm the driver's revving the engine and a clear path to the exits is in front of us, except...except...one cunt is missing and guess who it is? Yup, the tardy twat in the seat next to me, the one who kept us all waiting back at BDTBL. Seems this twat had managed to walk all the way around the stadium - including the Burnley end - before his lone brain cell had finally steered him back to our coach.
It amazes me that twats like this are probably married with kids, manage to hold a job down but couldn't find their own arse with both fucking hands!

Many, many depressing hours later, we were nearing Sheffield and the usual pantomime began - people sidling up to the driver and asking 'Can you drop me off at Waterthorpe/Mosborough/Woodhouse etc?' And, instead of saying 'No I fucking can't, you cunt. Didn't you realise when you bought your Barratt box in this God-forsaken shithole, it was dirt cheap for a reason? It's because it's in the back of beyond with no transport links, decent shops, just thousands of similar-minded fucking morons like you? That's why your four-bedroom 'starter home' cost £15 grand' the good-natured driver becomes an unpaid taxi firm for these cunts. Result? If you're ever coming back by coach from the south and see a sign 'Sheffield - 15 miles' don't get excited, it will be another 2 hours before you see Bramall Lane where taxis are abundant.

Never, ever again.

Minty said:
We had a great journey - there and back. Managed to buy some really cheap first class train tickets and left in plenty of time to get there and visit a number of good boozers
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Now you're talking! Huddersfield and Hull games, first-class train, about £75 return. In fact for the Huddersfield game, I was on the bus to town and bumped into a fellow Blade. It was 10.30 in the morning and KO was 3.00. He said 'Well you're not going to the game!' I replied 'Why not? Train leaves at 11.00, arrives at St. Pancras at 13.10, no problem.'

If there was no alternative to a coach the next time we play at Wembley I would - seriously - rather fucking walk.
 
Huddersfield PO final - M1 was chocka, had to go via Northampton, Silverstone, MK and rejoin M1 down near the M25.

And Wolves PO final going as we were diverted through the bloody hills and way back thanks to the pissed up fans who couldn't find the coach and the Wolves coaches we were stuck alongside.

Great times...
 
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Vale last season, my first hungover away game, was fine until about half an hour into journey and just asked my mate to pull up so i could be sick! Then there were some hikers in front of us, they all moved to the side, then a woman fell over and sprained her ankle, so we had to wait about 5/10 minutes to get her out of the way and phone an ambulance! At least the football was good......oh wait......
 
aldershot cup replay , played in thick fog saw nothing , had to be told wed lost 1-0 , followed by a 8-9 hour crawl with the fog so thick in parts had to stop
was like victorian times with a man walking in front , would have been quicker checking for mines
all that for seeing only a linesman for 90 minutes

the 2-0 boxing day defeat at Vale still ranks as the biggest non performance I ever saw, every player looked like theyd eaten more than the vicar of dibley did in the one where she ate 5 xmas dinners
 
During the early to late 80's , apart from the year living back home in Sheffield .
This used to be my routine .
11.00 pm ferry over to Liverpool , get to Liverpool at 7 am , bus to Liverpool lime st , train to Manchester changer platforms to get train back home , you fell asleep and you could end up in Hull .
Into Sheffield between 11 and 12
Out to S19 , do the reverse trip setting off at 4 pm to get back to Dublin for work on Monday morning .
While in Sheffield trip to Carlisle , trip to Newport , early morning trip to Southend , boxing day trip to Fulham again early kickoff .
Boxing day return from sty .
Return from uddersfield play off where me and junior almost missed the plane home , hence over nighters since .
 
JJBlade said:
Hope you're including me as one of your mates on that coach and not one of the 48 Fucktards
:):):):):):):):)
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No mate. LOL. You me and Eddie get exemptions. The fucktard of a driver dosen`t. Especially after drving right past the stadium he pulled over to ask the only bloke on the street wearing full Arab garb the way to the fucking car park.
 
Burnley Play off final was worst getting there ,I was managing Kiveton in a tournament with my lad in Germany ,played our last game the day before. we had a few drinks and stayed up ,all the lads gave us a send off at 2.30 in the morning where we got a taxi to the nearest train station 20 miles away ,got the train to Brussells ,flew into Heathrow ,train then tube to Wembley and hitched it back ,luckily someone recognised us and gave us a lift to Newark where we got a friend to come and fetch us. The rest of the team came back by coach and got in 10 minutes after us. Bad bad bastard Blackwell day.
Coming home was a game at Chester in 1980 ,we stayed in Chester ,2 cars of us ,ended up in a major fight with a group of bikers in the town centre ,all the town eventually joined in it seemed ,anyway a slab of concrete was thrown through the windscreen as we drove through them hitting and injuring the lad in the centre in the back As he was getting stitched up in hospital we got a temporary plastic windscreen for a petrol station as the cops kept us under watch ,got an escort out of Cheshire and it gave up the ghost. Driving back over the snake was so cold even with 3 coats over my hands and face with just eyeholes , could go above 30 as it got too windy ,nightmare. My car looked a sorry state in Graves park car park the next morning.
 
sitwell said:
Burnley Play off final was worst getting there ,I was managing Kiveton in a tournament with my lad in Germany ,played our last game the day before. we had a few drinks and stayed up ,all the lads gave us a send off at 2.30 in the morning where we got a taxi to the nearest train station 20 miles away ,got the train to Brussells ,flew into Heathrow ,train then tube to Wembley and hitched it back ,luckily someone recognised us and gave us a lift to Newark where we got a friend to come and fetch us. The rest of the team came back by coach and got in 10 minutes after us. Bad bad bastard Blackwell day.
Coming home was a game at Chester in 1980 ,we stayed in Chester ,2 cars of us ,ended up in a major fight with a group of bikers in the town centre ,all the town eventually joined in it seemed ,anyway a slab of concrete was thrown through the windscreen as we drove through them hitting and injuring the lad in the centre in the back As he was getting stitched up in hospital we got a temporary plastic windscreen for a petrol station as the cops kept us under watch ,got an escort out of Cheshire and it gave up the ghost. Driving back over the snake was so cold even with 3 coats over my hands and face with just eyeholes , could go above 30 as it got too windy ,nightmare. My car looked a sorry state in Graves park car park the next morning.
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Cant blame Blackwell on his own , once again players who turned up in most games during the season froze on the big day
its up to the players to turn up and do the business Blackwell can only make subs once they cross that line
players win or lose play off finals , managers become peripheral
same v huddersfield ,Wilson never missed a penalty
 

If journeys home count....coming home from Plymouth away on a freezing tuesday night in February (I think) off the back of a 0-3 defeat, on a coach with broken heating has to be up there. Either that or the trek back from Vale on boxing day the other year.
 
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