Blackheath Blade
Well-Known Member
Got my ticket for this Saturday and really looking forward to being at Morgan's first away game in charge as this will be my first trip to Portsmouth since the opening day of the season in August 1982. We'd won the 4th division at a canter the previous season and the country was in a state of euphoria following the battle to liberate the Falklands. England had even had a decent shot at winning the World Cup in Spain a month earlier and yours truly was in madly in love with a remarkably good looking woman from Shiregreen who, at 31, was ten years my senior and god bless her, had introduced me to the delights of anal sex and other strange sex games.
I travelled down to the south coast on a minibus with a mate and some Blades from the Old Harrow in Grenoside. Most of the blokes on the trip were a good deal older than us and as we approached Portsmouth at about noon, they took the fateful decision to carry on into the centre of the city and get a few pints at a local working mens club, a big mistake as it turned out.
As the minibus was decked out in red & white scarves and we were singing our heads off while travelling down the high street in the city centre, I admit that we must have stood out like a sore thumb. This was confimed when we parked up and got out of the van to look for the aforementioned local WMC, however, around 30 Pompey fans walked round the corner with the smell of Northerners in their nostrils.
Although my legs and intestines instantly liquified, I managed to grab my mate and we legged it, followed by about a dozen of the baying Pompey mob.
The next couple of hours round Portsmouth were spent playing a football version of kiss-catch, with the prize being an afternoon in their local A & E, being re-assembled by the doctors. At one point, the mob cornered us in a cul-de-sac but we pulled off a masterstroke by knocking on a couple of house doors until a kind old lady let us cut through her house and over her back garden wall to escape.
As it was a lovely sunny day, we ended up on Southsea beach with a pint of lager to calm our nerves before we eventually got in the ground at about 3.30, totally unaware that the local police had been scouring the city centre looking for us. The Blades got battered 4-1 with Paul Garner getting sent off too and as a couple of the older blokes had taken a few punches from the Pompey boys, they took the decision to set off for home at 4.00.
Ever since that day, i've refused to go back there, however, I feel it's time for me, Morgs and the lads to exorcise the ghosts of Portsmouth after 31 years.
UTB
I travelled down to the south coast on a minibus with a mate and some Blades from the Old Harrow in Grenoside. Most of the blokes on the trip were a good deal older than us and as we approached Portsmouth at about noon, they took the fateful decision to carry on into the centre of the city and get a few pints at a local working mens club, a big mistake as it turned out.
As the minibus was decked out in red & white scarves and we were singing our heads off while travelling down the high street in the city centre, I admit that we must have stood out like a sore thumb. This was confimed when we parked up and got out of the van to look for the aforementioned local WMC, however, around 30 Pompey fans walked round the corner with the smell of Northerners in their nostrils.
Although my legs and intestines instantly liquified, I managed to grab my mate and we legged it, followed by about a dozen of the baying Pompey mob.
The next couple of hours round Portsmouth were spent playing a football version of kiss-catch, with the prize being an afternoon in their local A & E, being re-assembled by the doctors. At one point, the mob cornered us in a cul-de-sac but we pulled off a masterstroke by knocking on a couple of house doors until a kind old lady let us cut through her house and over her back garden wall to escape.
As it was a lovely sunny day, we ended up on Southsea beach with a pint of lager to calm our nerves before we eventually got in the ground at about 3.30, totally unaware that the local police had been scouring the city centre looking for us. The Blades got battered 4-1 with Paul Garner getting sent off too and as a couple of the older blokes had taken a few punches from the Pompey boys, they took the decision to set off for home at 4.00.
Ever since that day, i've refused to go back there, however, I feel it's time for me, Morgs and the lads to exorcise the ghosts of Portsmouth after 31 years.
UTB
