What's your dullest anecdote about meeting a footballer?

[Alan Birchenall's hair]

For older contributors, I met 'Bernie the Bolt' from The Golden Shot TV programme in a bar in Albufeira, long after he'd packed it in. Still dining out on it though. He was a wanker. Mind you, that Anne Aston was totty back in the day

 

[Alan Birchenall's hair]

And Carlton Palmer tried to hit on my wife while she was taking our young kids in the pool at Hillsboro leisure centre in the mid 90s. She says she told him to 'Fuck off pinhead', or summat similar

 

[Torrix1889]

I had a photo with Anthony Crolla outside the Bramall Lane end before the Man Poo 3-3 game.....I said "thanks" he said "no worries"

 

[pommpey]

And Carlton Palmer tried to hit on my wife while she was taking our young kids in the pool at Hillsboro leisure centre in the mid 90s. She says she told him to 'Fuck off pinhead', or summat similar

Palmer did look a bit freakshow, didn't he? Like one of those cruel examples of human degradation carted about and displayed by heartless circus magnates for Victorian women to shriek and faint at.

For sixpence.

pommpey

 

[Bladethebrian]

This is very odd. Why would McCabe be at Hazel Grove station? There's nothing around hazel grove other than a plumbers merchants, snooker club, golf shop, a McDonald's and a Weatherspoons. And why was he on the train when none of the trains through there have a first class carriage? Surely he'd be in a big Merc, possibly with a driver.

You should have asked, Iffy

I met him at the station after an away match at Stevenage and he got in standard class (embarrassingly me and my boy got into first class )

 

[Blade.com]

Early 80s stood outside work, The Queen drove by, she just waved.

 

[pommpey]

I was on a leisure cruise on the Thames a few years ago. Bit of a busman's holiday for a salty old cunt like me.

Anyrooerd, we tied up at Henley to get the shit tank pumped out and there, walking her kids and enjoying the sunshine was Ulrika Johnsson. She looked gravitationally dangerous and I felt this strange magnetism. Something really made me want to mate with her, even though she looked a bit rinsed out and her neck looked like my scrotum on a warm day. With blonde hair and teeth.

As we passed, I smiled and said 'Iranu!' and she smiled weakly back, as if to say, 'Go fuck yourself, fat cunt', which I perfectly understand. She's not exactly gonna lower her standards to let some random tubby old sailor have a go on her tumpsy, especially when she has shipped a fair amount of celebrity beefstock up there.

The football connection is that Stan Collymore gave her a right old kicking and she reversed herself onto the England manager's knob for a while.

pommpey

 

[dazzlingblade]

Met Carl Asaba in the queue at Safeway just after he signed , told him I fancied him to be the divisions top scorer , and that I was going to put a bet on it , he said keep your money

Didn't fill me with confidence

Turns out he was right

 

[forever_blade]

Met our undefeated centre half Jake Wright at a local boozer the evening after we’d beaten Forest at home in promotion season (Duffy belter to seal it 2-0)

Down to Earth bloke, small talk was going well then stupidly forgot I wasn’t just speaking to a fellow Blade but to our starting centre half asked him “you going to Hull?”

Soon as I said it realised my massive cock-up attempted to rescue myself with a “course you’ll be going you’ll be starting” but the damage was done

 

[coolasanidiot]

Dean Whitehouse in PLayers lounge at Leicester- absolute thick as pigshit- made me think just enjoy them play football- 90% are stupid and can barely converse.

But very much liked him as a footballer.

 

[BLADES1988]

Saw Ben Osborn having a piss in Cuckoo a few weeks back. Couldn't help but have a glance.

"Alright fella, injured still?"
"Yeah mate be back soon"
"Sound"

When you had a "glance" was it all in proportion?

 

[Badger Blade]

The scrum-cap wearing oaf Miguel Llera was sat at the table next to me in Meadowhall Wagamama's. The pig supporting in-laws didn't even recognise him without his hat on.

 

[pommpey]

Early 80s stood outside work, The Queen drove by, she just waved.

My school did some fucking historic dance shit for her 1977 Jubilee visit to Sheffield. I have no fucking idea how, but the attractive, charismatic, buxom, MILFY history teacher we had, corralled a few of us into doing this dismal, humiliating spectacle. We practiced at the school fete, to which my darts and cricket playing mates from Norton Oakes happened along and made me feel suicidal with their quite cruel, but totally correct cynicism, ribald if homophobic comments and ongoing laughter. So two days later we shipped up to Hillsborough Park with the lies in our ears that both Brenda and Phil would come and watch and speak with us and possibly knight us or summat. The shame was slightly offset by the chance of meeting Her Madge in person.

We rehearsed three fucking Elizabethan dances ... THREE. Pliets and curtsies and bows. Fucking hell, my arsehole is tightening right now with the thought of it. So we are there, dressed like cunts, waiting for the Royal party to come, with all sorts of other schools displaying acrobatics and fire breathing and juggling with axes and throwing kung fu stars.

Forty five minutes later we get the ghist she's finally on her way and we start up the daft, prancing shite. She comes rocketing past, her and Phil waving from the back deck of the Royal Range Rover at about 65mph, with a procession of urchin kids who'd abandoned their stances and were trying to keep up and just crashing through our poncey silliness, with the history teacher trying vainly to head them off, almost in tears.

The adage 'never volunteer for fuck all' still rings in my ears to this day as I told my dad and he pissed himsen laughing at me.

pommpey

 

[skyjam]

love the way you write Pompey

 

[Blade.com]

4 words got my attention straight away ; Charismatic, Buxom MILFY and Teacher. We had a Dance teacher and to this day I have never seen anyone with Bazookas as big as hers, they where that big she could get 3 kids sheltered under them from the rain.
12 year old kids paradise. We use to prey for rain every lesson.

 

[Zipwire]

Not entirely football, but ...

My ship was parked alongside New York for the 04 July celebrations, about fifteen months before the jets smashed into the WTCs.

As I was making my way up from the berth to Times Square, a small theatre had just finished it's matinee. Outside stood very professional and serious thesp and famous Trekkie Skipper Patrick Stewart. He was in some dismal, off Broadway production he felt was worthy of him and had hair and a beard for his character and was signing autographs and brochures for the show. The people there were stereotypical 'fat-Yank' dweebs, incels, gun-nuts, loners, virgins, and other risible friendless, dangerous bastards, some of whom were calling him 'Captain Picard'. One was dressed in full Trekkie kit. You could see this was really spiking his precious soul. Did these fucking cunts not realise that Patrick Stewart, actor, had other dramatic outlets and he could cover other roles (apart from the one that had made him a fucking millionaire, mainly from these dumb, Xanax-pumped schmucks?)

As they circled him and fired gentle questions at him ... mainly about Star Trek, I hovered on the periphery of this, mildly amused at his gathering anger, masked by a poorly veneered smile. What a cunt.

"Cap'n Picard, when is the next series bein' made, sir? Will the Borgs finally overcome the Klingons and forge the dilithium crystals from Planet Zephton?"

"Cap'n Picard! Will you sign this knock-off, wrong series Star Trek shirt made by slaves in China? Sign 'to Barbara and Enos, love from Cap'n Picard!'"

"Cap'n Picard! Cap'n Picard! Cap'n Picard!"

I sidled round alongside him, possibly a bit too close, seeing my chance to put something on the 'Now You're Stalking' page in Loaded magazine. He glanced at me, angrily and I said "Or reyt, mate?" (well, he is a Yorkshireman, isn't he?) I raised my snappy camera in reverse to do a 'selfie' (no one had really heard of selfies back then) "Can we do a photo, mate?" He looked horrified and disgusted then finally snapped.

"Do you MIND? I'd rather NOT!" he cut back directly at me, not acting now. The crowd of prawns went silent, like I'd actually killed their king. I pulled a 'oooh, hark at HER!' face and he then stomped off indignantly across the street with dweebs still chasing after him yelling 'Cap'n Picard! Cap'n Picard!' waving shit merchandise, with little puddles of piss squelching in their sneakers.

I was greatly amused by all of this. Every time I see him now, I am reminded what a supertanker-sized wanker Patrick Stewart actually is.

pommpey

A few years ago, I was invited to a wedding at the Crown Plaza in Leeds, the England v South Africa test was on at Headingley, and there was all the sky punditry team billeted there. Pissed up at night me and mate bumped in to David Gower, and he was less than happy to be photographed with us, at which point the mate who was tasked with using the camera was inebriated and couldn't operate it properly, and Gower snorted 'i thought those things was supposed to be idiot proof.

At a home game 3 or 4 years ago I went for a piss at half time, and the next person to me at the trough urinal was Alan Biggs.

 

[LudlamBlade]

Dean Whitehouse in PLayers lounge at Leicester- absolute thick as pigshit- made me think just enjoy them play football- 90% are stupid and can barely converse.

But very much liked him as a footballer.

I remember getting his autograph at the bar in The Stag on Psalter Lane when I was about 6

 

[Big Hitter]

When I worked at the Midland Station, Parcels Office, ( 3 centuries ago now.) Albert Quixall came in to collect a parcel.
I pretended not to know him asked him his name, asked him to spell it, generally pissed around looking for it before handing it over.
Twat was preening about, obviously thought I was taking the piss, but wasn't sure enough to call me out.
Boss got to hear about it and gave me a right bollocking, but it was worth it.
Now Sir James Hagan came in at some time as well and I got his parcel out for him without asking him anything.
Funny that.

 

[Big Hitter]

Palmer did look a bit freakshow, didn't he? Like one of those cruel examples of human degradation carted about and displayed by heartless circus magnates for Victorian women to shriek and faint at.

For sixpence.

pommpey

Looked like somebody made him with bits of plasticine they had left over.

 

[Sheffsteel]

My girlfriend was in Josephine’s nightclub in the early- mid 90’s. She has zero interest in football but saw Carlton Palmer in the little VIP bar with loads of young glamour women/ model types.

She said she felt embarrassed for Palmer as he was so arrogant thinking he was something special and better than more normal people around him. His body language and behaviour showed an ugly, not nice person.

30 years later whenever CP comes up in conversation she still mentions her experience and STILL doesn’t like him.

 

[JOE SHAW 1956]

My mate was in Endcliffe Park in the 60's when Hodgy came walking through pushing a pram, he said to Hodgy .... can I touch you ... he said
NO...... lol.

 

[JJ Sefton]

My mum's best mate used to do Ossie Ardiles' ironing for him and I was at her house once when he came to pick a load up.

 

[Tezza1889]

Recent underwhelming that was so underwhelming it slipped my mind.

Graham Benstead largely ignored / unrecognised by younger blades or underwhelmed I couldn't decide, was in the old thamside inn on London Bridge, Millwall game having a pint or two.

Mate came back from bogs "apparently I've just been stood next to a united keeper whilst having a piss"

Few older blades were talking to him, but respectfully let him get on with his day, looks great for his age..

 

[ISZA ⚔️]

Gatecrasher the night Leeds failed to beat Reading and the Blades were promoted. The entire squad was in the VIP area on the top floor. I spotted Monty and asked for a pic. Next thing he’s pulled me and my two mates in to the VIP. Class night and a great bloke.

 

[Il Coltello]

I saw Chris Waddle on Whirlowdale Road years back. I can still remember exactly what he said to me.

'What are you doing under my car?! Is that brake fluid leaking on the drive?'

Reight miserable twat...

 

[Alan Birchenall's hair]

I saw Chris Waddle on Whirlowdale Road years back. I can still remember exactly what he said to me.

'What are you doing under my car?! Is that brake fluid leaking on the drive?'

Reight miserable twat...

You wouldn't even joke about it if his missus was around. Hellcat doesn't even begin to describe her.....

 

[Karaoke Blade]

4 words got my attention straight away ; Charismatic, Buxom MILFY and Teacher. We had a Dance teacher and to this day I have never seen anyone with Bazookas as big as hers, they where that big she could get 3 kids sheltered under them from the rain.
12 year old kids paradise. We use to prey for rain every lesson.

In infants school, we were doing some form of activity where we had to crouch on the floor and then jump up when the teacher, Mrs Hardwick, clapped.
She clapped, I jumped up and it suddenly went dark. I had jumped up her dress.

Sorry to digress, but I had to get that off my chest.

 

[Bell4]

A mardy Tony Currie once came out of his house to shout at me and some other kids when we were sledging near his house. So I shouted "get bent" back at him. Good times.

Don’t mention Tony Currie in case knowsnowt reads this thread - ffs

 

[Bell4]

I was on a leisure cruise on the Thames a few years ago. Bit of a busman's holiday for a salty old cunt like me.

Anyrooerd, we tied up at Henley to get the shit tank pumped out and there, walking her kids and enjoying the sunshine was Ulrika Johnsson. She looked gravitationally dangerous and I felt this strange magnetism. Something really made me want to mate with her, even though she looked a bit rinsed out and her neck looked like my scrotum on a warm day. With blonde hair and teeth.

As we passed, I smiled and said 'Iranu!' and she smiled weakly back, as if to say, 'Go fuck yourself, fat cunt', which I perfectly understand. She's not exactly gonna lower her standards to let some random tubby old sailor have a go on her tumpsy, especially when she has shipped a fair amount of celebrity beefstock up there.

The football connection is that Stan Collymore gave her a right old kicking and she reversed herself onto the England manager's knob for a while.

pommpey

Please stop

 

[Bell4]

In infants school, we were doing some form of activity where we had to crouch on the floor and then jump up when the teacher, Mrs Hardwick, clapped.
She clapped, I jumped up and it suddenly went dark. I had jumped up her dress.

Sorry to digress, but I had to get that off my chest.