Unitedite on TV - Footballs hardest away days.

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Can't remember which Charlton away game it was, (possibly the 5-2 one in 2008, or maybe the 3-1 game a year earlier), but all the London blades trooped drunkenly into the ground with Greenwich Blade then looked around and he was nowhere to be seen. We shrugged our collective shoulders and got on with watching the match.

An hour after the game we were in our former HQ the Harp, Covent Garden (don't go there anymore, it's disappeared up it's own figurative rectum) and Greenwich steams in ranting to anyone who would listen about what a set of cunts the Charlton stewards were.

Turns out they'd considered the lightweight wallet chain which Greenwich uses to secure his belongings on the mean streets of London, to be a potential offensive weapon and wanted to confiscate it. There was no way that Greenwich would let himself go into a crowded area without his trusty chain for protection so he didn't go in.

I think he may even have made it on to praise or grumble that night.....
 
Can't remember which Charlton away game it was, (possibly the 5-2 one in 2008, or maybe the 3-1 game a year earlier), but all the London blades trooped drunkenly into the ground with Greenwich Blade then looked around and he was nowhere to be seen. We shrugged our collective shoulders and got on with watching the match.

An hour after the game we were in our former HQ the Harp, Covent Garden (don't go there anymore, it's disappeared up it's own figurative rectum) and Greenwich steams in ranting to anyone who would listen about what a set of cunts the Charlton stewards were.

Turns out they'd considered the lightweight wallet chain which Greenwich uses to secure his belongings on the mean streets of London, to be a potential offensive weapon and wanted to confiscate it. There was no way that Greenwich would let himself go into a crowded area without his trusty chain for protection so he didn't go in.

I think he may even have made it on to praise or grumble that night.....

I did, and it was a grumble.

I spent the whole game out on the pavement chatting with the police and collecting contact details of every other Blade ejected from the ground in order to build up a dossier against Charlton's stewards.

It was a real bugger trying to work out the score just from the cheers from within, especially as there were 7 goals (yes it was the 5-2).

And it wasn't just me refusing to enter the ground without my wallet-chain that kept me out - it was also the fact that a bloody big steward shoved my arm up my back and hefted me onto the street.
 
Here's the offending weapon of mass destruction...

763_40633425949_8761_n.jpg
 

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