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I broke my cheek bone at around 4am on the morning of the match pissed out of my skull, I managed to fall face first off a bin "showing them Germans how to sing" I got up dancing about like a loon "I've broke my face, I've broke my face!" only for my uncle to tell me to "stop being a @#%&!" Told him I was going to find a hospital so I wondered off on my Todd only for the police to grab me and chuck me in the back of a police van. All I did was shout over and over "Hotel pensioner! Hotel Pensioner!" When suddenly it hit me that I had me Dad's and our kids match tickets on me. (We had been warned about pick pockets before hand so I decided that whenever we left the hotel I would put them in an envelope and masking tape them around my shin like a makeshift shin pad I brought 5 envelopes and a roll of masking tape with me ) after what seemed like an eternity the police van stops and I start to prepare to leg it as soon as the doors open. As the doors open I jump out only to realise that they had dropped me off at the front door to the hotel. Went into my room and showed our kid what a mess I'd made of my eye only to be called a daft @#%&!. Had about 3 hours kip and was back on the beer at breakfast to set me up for the greatest day of my life. |
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got a week in a shit hole of an all inclusive hotel in Salou 3 days before, the train ride up the coast on the day of the match was brilliant, grabbed a ticket for 200 quid outside the ground, the game was a bit of a blur, seemed to wake up a couple of hours later celebrating on Las Ramblas, bought some resin whilst drunk from a big african dude which turned out to be coffee and I couldn't have cared less, ended up taking a taxi all the way back to salou at 5am with about 6 of us crammed in all singing yip jaap stam which the taxi driver eventually joined in.
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Few years later went home to pick up and my old lady said she had lost it. The poster was huge and I'd stuck it in a frame We never spoke again. |
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https://www.utdforum.com/forum/showp...2&postcount=11 |
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Shame about Smyth's "shredding his legacy" howler, he is an very accomplished writer. |
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Yhgr |
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The @#%&!. |
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This time 20 years ago I was on a coach somewhere in France after having left Chorlton Street at 7am on the Tuesday morning. Got to Barcelona at 10.30 on the Wednesday morning, had seats in tier 2 behind our goal with my dad; £28 each. Back on the coach at midnight and got back to Manchester at 3am Friday morning. 26.5 hours there and 28 hours back with just 13.5 hours in Barcelona. Best night of my life.
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