Got the train at 9.
Found our carriage on the train, only for them to fucking change it as we stepped on so now we’re right at the opposite end.
No bother, we found a table seat me and my dad. Decent start to the day…..or so we thought
The worlds most annoying fucking child was sat at the table opposite with fucking playdough and cheese sandwiches all over the fucking carriage. For some reason throwing a child out of a moving train is frowned up on so I thought I better grin and bear it.
Next thing, my dad, the cack handed old fart, spills a full tin of beer all over me. Like fucking sodden from the waist down. Doesn't spill it on him sen though does he? Fucking hell as like, dry as a bone.
So up I gets to go to the bog to try and dry off and I thought, fuck it I’ll have a piss while Im here, like you do. Fucking boom, me belt just fucking falls apart, just half of it hanging in me hand. I thought I must have been fucking dreaming. This turn of events just doesnt happen in real life.
So anyway I walks back trying to keep hold of me kecks that are now loose as fuck. I get back to be informed by my dad that he knocked the can over again while I was in the Khazi….oh excellent, I’m going out for a drink with Muhammad Ali today then am I?
Couldnt get me off this train quick enough. The devil child opposite was still being an annoying little twat and I was piss wet through stinking of fucking ale. Its not even like the day was going to get any better. The prospect of seeing us get bummed 8 nil did not improve my mood at all.
Gets off at st pancras and I treat myself to a new belt before heading to carnaby street to meet up with a few others. Naturally the first drink I buy for my dad, I get him a couple of straws given that he’s clearly coming down with Parkinsons. The day is Improving somewhat, not many blades but get chatting to a few people and a couple of City fans, all good natured and dont seem to be anticipating the dry bumming that we are.
Get the tube to the game, again all going swimmingly, until one of the group decides that we need to get off the current train and onto another which turns out to be going in the wrong fucking direction. Even the people on the train wondered what the fuck we were doing on there. Oh what a set of twats we looked.
Now gentleman, as I’m sure you all know, once you start on the booze, we all piss like a fucking racehorse. After strategically planning my piss schedule after leaving the last pub, I was now in danger of having that ripped up in front of me as we headed in the wrong direction and so did my bladder. When we eventually get to Wembley Park station, it’s a good job no one else was in there as the noise of relief could have been mis-construed for me having a wank. It was that close.
Anyway we walks up wembley way, gets in the ground. Somehow, Wembley seems much less impressive these days. As for the game, I thought, if we get to half time at 0-0 that would be a great result. We defended so well but frustratingly, individual errors get punished.
The fans were fucking fantastic. Behind the lads throughout the game. It was a bit of a promotion party for us, it wasnt really about winning. I dont think anyone really expected us to against the best team in the world,
I dont even think 3-0 was a fair reflection. I know they had loads of the ball but they were hardly peppering the goal.
After full time we end up walking back down wembley way Blades in full voice all the way back to the station. Fuck me if we ever win anything there they’ll need to rebuild the whole fucking area. Gets on a train to St Pancras. Blades and City fans, the City fans are the typical fucking arrogant, never been to Maine Road type. Cunts basically. And one of them looked like Raul Moat.
Anyway they fuck off at Euston. We get back to st pancras, queuing system is really efficient tbf and we get back on an earlier train than expected. End up sitting with an Exeter fan of all people, have a good chat with him about all things football along with a few Blades too. A good laugh all the way back.
So, all in all, despite the nightmare of the beginning of the day, the rest of it was an absolute cracker. Nowt much better than a London away day, the pubs arent even that much more expensive than up here these days.
And if you read all that you deserve a fucking medal. Also, my dads alright really, when he’s not chucking beer about.
).
before spending the pre-match up at the green man. It kicked off near us after some clown set off some flares or smoke bombs (or whatever they’re called), and the stewards intervened by taking it off them and booting it… in the process hitting a kid. I think the only reason they didn’t get chucked out is because of the kid incident.
