Sorry if this turns into a mini essay, but my recollection is not just of a random occurrence but a whole series of them on the same day.
So it's March 1968 and I'm driving down to London to watch us play West Ham in the 5 th.round of the FA cup when I spot some supporters ( Norwich I think ) HITCHHIKING on the M1 !!
I stopped and gave them a lift, diverting from my preferred route to drop them off in North London. This proved to be costly since I arrived at the Boleyn Ground only 20 mins. before kick off. At bang on 3:00 pm with me second in the queue they closed the fucking turnstiles !! I was fucking furious and devastated, but as I started to walk away a tout sidles up to me and says " Wanna buy a ticket mate ?" I ask him how much and he says "Free an' a 'alf quid" which was 7 times face value.
Having come all that way, I decided I had no alternative and it turned out to be worth every penny. We were up against probably the greatest West Ham team ever with the likes of Bobby Moore, Martin Peters, Geoff Hurst and Trevor Wanker Brooking in their team at a time when we were struggling so they were expected to win comfortably.
As it turned out, we beat them 2 - 1 both goals coming from an innocuous looking inside forward called Phil Cliff , who normally played for the reserves.
The randomness continued after the match when I watched a 5 ft. 6 inch cockney sporting a mod haircut and an immaculate Italian style suit deck a 6 ft. 2 inch Blade with a head butt ( blood all over the place ) and a London mate telling me that, on the tube back to central London, there were gangs of West Ham fans waiting at stations, boarding trains and kicking shit out of any Blade wearing the colours.
Happy Days !