REAL FAN STORY PART 2

Now if you want to make any sense of this story, please read part one which I posted earlier this week.

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Finally after the invisible mechanic had serviced the coach we set off to continue our journey to the Eastern side of London and a stadium called the New Den.
Now part of the attraction in making this first away game thingy was the attraction in visiting the New Den, after all if we were to participate in such an adventure, the very least we should expect is a new stadium, why would someone wish to visit an old stadium, I think the very least these football owner people should do is to replace the old stadium at least every couple of years.
|I have been a Real fan of Cardiff City Association football club for over two years now and they have had the decency to change their stadium during this period and the premier box thing that mother purchased for Tarquin and I, it is of the highest standard even if at 20 feet by twelve it is somewhat cramped for the two of us, but It’s a small price to pay if it means keeping it real and down there with the ordinary people who occupy the working class seats which I assume are given free to these poor and needy people. I feel there is a big responsibility on us real fans to help support these less fortunate fellows.
Well to say I was a little disappointed when I seen the New stadium would be an understatement, My God if this is the new one what was the old one like. Mind you I was impressed by the organisation of the local constabulary who had on the approach road in kindly blocked off all the other roads to allow us an easy un -hindered passage mind you at times the constabulary were struggling to hold back the thousands of fans wishing to celebrate and welcome us to their new stadium, a lot of them were waving two fingers at us, I assume this was a sign that they hoped to see at least two goals scored during the day’s proceedings.
When we left the coach, the Police guided us to a local hostelry; I think some of these people really didn’t want to go to this hostelry because several of them had to be quite physically encouraged to head in this direction, many of them it would appear wanted to talk and mixed with the locals who appeared equally excited to re affirm friendships I assume they had made over previous years.
Well when we entered the premises Tarquin and I could not believe our eyes, it was full of those farm labourer chappies wearing their Valley Ram shirts, I assume there was a sheep dog trial being held in the near vicinity, possibly that would explain why there were so many barking dogs outside the premises.
I recognised the two chaps we had met earlier and they greeted us like long lost friends, one of them said you must let me buy you a drink, very charitable I thought considering they must have only been earning minimum wages of ten pounds or so a week. I said I’ll have a Pimms and Tarquin a freshly squeezed mango laced with Guava juice. He laughed and said you’ll have Rhondda Champagne like the rest of us. Now I really was impressed, ten pounds a week and buying us Champagne.
Well it was unlike any Champagne I’d ever had, theoretically speaking Champagne must be made from the grape grown in the Champagne region of southern France, so I had established that grapes grown on the side of Penrhys mountain would differ in taste and bouquet from the true French version, but whilst tasting more of apples than grapes, I must admit the taste did linger and have a refreshing lift to it, and money must be no object to these farm labourers because it was the biggest Champagne glass I’d ever seen.
I instructed Tarquin who at 13 years of age should not be drinking the alcoholic beverage in front of him, and I made him swear the oath of silence and that his mother would not hear of this little father and son bonding moment.
Just when I thought that things could not get any better, the same chap whose name I had established by now was Big Sam, said right Rupert the next round is on you, I thought this was so sweet, I had only just got to know these charming chaps for five minutes and they were already inviting me into their social circle and allowing me to take part in this ancient custom of rounding.
This big Sam chap called the bar manger over and said something along the lines of “oy Buttie get 223 Strongbows and one Guinness over here now, Rupert’s sorting it out” after what seemed like an eternity the bar manger asked how I’d like to settle my account, so I gave him my Platinum Amex card and he said “that should cover it” such a joker, I replied and whilst your there take one for the bar staff, “cheers” he said “that will be another pony” obviously another farm labourer.
Well these poor farm labourer chappies must be getting worked to death because they were so thirsty, it seemed that almost as soon as they were getting their drinks the glasses were emptied in an instant, I bought at least another six rounds before anyone seemed the slightest bit re hydrated.
Next thing I was aware of was a commotion when some of these sheep dogs that had been outside burst into the premises, the Police came running in after them trying to hold them back I assumed, and then the Officers started shouting get out of here now or we let the dogs loose. I thought that was jolly decent of them letting us know they were having trouble in holding back these extremely aggressive sheep dogs, that in all honesty seemed a lot larger and more violent than the variety that mummy uses on her two hundred acre small holding down the Vale.
Tarquin and I made our way to the stadium and yet again the Police were most helpful, keeping us behind an almost wall of Officers so that we could pass through the very excited locals who must have been looking forward to this game so much. I had occasion to approach one officer and asked him which entrance was for the REAl fans and he said any of them you “CAANT” now I was slightly confused, did he mean any of those I could use or can’t use, but either way Tarquin and I stayed alongside the common people and went with the flow.
There was some confusion at the things we found out they call turnstiles, many of these farm labourers must have been overcome by the vast quantities of Champagne they’d quaffed because instead of going to the local sheep dog trials that I assumed were in the vicinity, many of them were mistakenly trying to enter this football arena, but luckily the Police were managing to turn back dozens of them. Some really didn’t want to listen to the Police and had to be put into vans which I assumed would them take them to the correct venue.
Once we had made our way through the turnstiles we were met by a lot of these volunteer types wearing bright orange tops with words like security, senior steward, etc. One of them checked our tickets and escorted us to our seats which unfortunately had been taken by some large aggressive looking chaps who had obviously mistakenly read their tickets incorrectly. The volunteer chap said words to the affect of “Feck that, I don’t get paid enough to sort this out” I thought that it was so sweet of him give his free time up to help people like us into our seats, he then said “sit anywhere you like” which I thought was jolly civil of him, I actually slipped him twenty pence for his troubles, he looked totally shocked and laughed, I assumed it made him happy knowing that at least his family would have food on the table tonight.
On looking around it appeared that all the seats were the same, there were no walls around every few seats as in our box at the Cardiff City multi sports arena where we real fans congregate, and everyone sat side by side, there were no toilets, for these you had to walk down stairs, no lifts, no waitress service, quite alarming levels of poverty in this area of East London, but hey nothing was going to spoil our day, us real fans take things like this in our stride.
Well when I looked around it was apparent that a large part of the crowd was made up of these farm labourer chaps, obviously the sheep dog trials had been cancelled so they had come along to this soccer game as an alternative, I can see Tarquin and I having to explain the rules and finer points of soccer to these chaps as the game progresses.
Mind you even though Tarquin and I are REAL fans, I still haven’t worked out why this goal minder fellow wears a different colour shirt, does that mean he’s the commanding Officer of the team, I know they have a Captain somewhere, you think he’d wear a hat or at least some pips on his shoulder to show his rank. Personally I like the shooter chaps who hit the ball at the other teams goal minder fellow.
When the teams took to the pitch everyone stood up, I thought this was a bit silly but then I remembered these ordinary fans had more than likely been donated these seats by charitable organisations and were un aware of their purpose, either way to get any sort of view Tarquin and I were forced to stand alongside these poor fellows, but at least we were doing our bit to show solidarity.
Mind you I did have occasion to call a constable over and report a fellow in front of me who used the words dam and blast on several occasions, I told the officer who replied that he would arrest him and throw in the cells for the rest of his life and only give him bread and water, I said i thought that was a bit harsh and surely a few years in Australia would suffice, either way the chap was not spoken to and the constable left the area laughing (more than likely my charitable act had made him happy),I assume the Officer was checking the sailing times of the next ship and had got tied up because I did not see him come back for this felon, I wonder if he realises how close he came to several years in the colonies.
During the match there was a lot of objects being thrown back and fore between the two sets of fans, I assume this was a method of exchanging local produce, much like Captain cook did on his adventures, I could just see now the people on the coach checking out the produce grown in this part of East London, this game of soccer really does highlight the sense of togetherness these fans feel.
Some of my fellow fans belong to what I thought was a religious group because they were shouting out Soul crew on a regular basis, but then I asked one of these fellows why what church they belonged to and the soul crew link, he laughed and explained it was more a link to music from a bygone era, I told him I also loved that era and music and my favourite singer was that chap called Harry the Franklin. He smiled and said I should see about joining the group which I said I would give some thought to.
He also mentioned he liked my outfit, if only he knew this was the one suit in my wardrobe that was not handmade and was bought off the shelf in Harrods for a mere two grand. I knew I’d be mixing with poor people today and did not want them to feel over awed by my presence. To fit into this new group and show them I was down there with them I even loosened my tie and undid my top button of my shirt. I told Tarquin to open his cravat out slightly as well which made him chuckle.

Fair play Gwyn, you really know how to put a good story together

Great read Gwyn.

Cracking Gwyn, Can't wait for part 3.

I had a good laff reading that ........... I hope there;s a part 3

Thats a good story of REAL fans on a day out, maybe this is what they want for there new book.Well done Gwyn maybe you can put a few stories of REAL fans together to help start there book off.

Very play Gwyn that is utter genius and i can't wait for part 3

I can feel a book coming on.

Gwyn you really are mad i pissed myself laughing reading that

I posted this tory on another message board and I have had sevral pm's off people who think i have written about them and jsut changed the names.

i though it might hit a nerve wiyh some people

Found it

I posted this tory on another message board and I have had sevral pm's off people who think i have written about them and jsut changed the names.

to be honest gwyn i thought it was based on steve borleys times in the boardroom and his first away match with the rams
so i thought he was rupert and i was tarquin

gutted now was waiting for my screen test for the film

memo to wife
throw all that pimms in the bin and fill the fridge full of bow again

That is funny stuff, you've got a real talent mate.Hope there's a part 3.

Very good Gwyn

Just read both parts, haven't had chance to sit down and read them until now! Very funny stuff