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I've met some truly mad Sunderland supporters .....

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We always had a 20 gallon drum for a piss bucket, one of the lads had the job of fetching it from work every trip, he was known as the piss bucket man.

It was balanced on the steps of the bus, leaning against the door. Arriving late at Burnley one year, the police stopped the bus.

A burly sergeant pressed a button to open the door and 20 gallon of hot piss fell on top of him.

Poor fucker was soaked top to toe, with 50 pissed lads going mental with laughter.
The old piss bucket on the stairs trick eh, wasnt that common practise on the buses back then. The Hebburn bus had the rule whoever had the piss that took the piss level to the top had to empty the bucket out the door as we motored on down the motorway. Some comical sights of pissed up blokes hanging onto the rail at the top of the stairs with one hand as the door opened and the piss cascaded out down the slow lane of the motorway. I dont recall any buckets being lost either.
 

Put some of these stories in a book and everyone who read it wouldn't believe a f***ing word of what they were reading.

Priceless.
 
The old piss bucket on the stairs trick eh, wasnt that common practise on the buses back then. The Hebburn bus had the rule whoever had the piss that took the piss level to the top had to empty the bucket out the door as we motored on down the motorway. Some comical sights of pissed up blokes hanging onto the rail at the top of the stairs with one hand as the door opened and the piss cascaded out down the slow lane of the motorway. I dont recall any buckets being lost either.

Class.
Could you imagine that happening these days, you only need to fart on a bus today and they hoy you off.
 
Magcatcherhutch..........was it you who could never manage to piss in the piss bucket?

No matter how many pints you'd had, you still couldn't go. Something to do with the bus movement or whatever?
how do you know that yeh i was young drunk of snakebites most away games i missed it regular so did the animal micky ..
 
Is your auntie really called Vera and your uncle called Jack (just like Corrie) or was that Bobby getting mixed up with names again ??
No, they were called that.

We went to France 98 and toured about a bit. Our base was in Paris because one of my mates, originally from southwick had become a merchant banker over there working for some like the Rabobank. He had this upstairs flat way near Haueseman (sp) Boulevard and there was about 8 of us kipping at his place. One of the games we went too see was Argentina v Jamaica at the Parc Des Princes. We were very popular with the Argentine fans when we turned up with our England tops on and there was nearly an international incident :lol:.

anyway after the match we were absolutely f***ing mortal. My mate who had the flat and a lad called Robin Bond from Framwellgate moor went back to the flat before us. We went round about an hour later and found that the outside door to the block was shut. We pressed a few buttons and someone pressed the buzzer to let us into the apartment block. his flat was in a courtyard outside - separate building - and we tried the door to that bit and it was locked. We decided that the best bet was to try and wake them so we started - at first - to throw little pebbles up at the window to try and wake them. didnt work. We next decided that we would throw half bricks at the window - didnt work. By this time the residents was beginning to cotton on what was going on and lights were going on all over the place. People shouting at us in French no doubt to fuckoff.

over in the corner was a fire hose, used to water the plants in the garden with. I remember distinctly us all rolling around on the ground, pissing ourselves as this fire hose was unleashed on the building. :lol:

fuckall would wake them mind and so we settled down to kip back in the main block on the stairs wrapped in Union Jacks. About 7am we went back to try and rous them again and this time, after just about putting the f***ing window out, they awoke and let us in.

the garden was f***ing ruined.

what a night.
 
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I used to. Went to Euro 88 with england and stayed at a place called Weisbaden, just outside of Frankfurt. At that time we used to see US military jeeps on the roads as it was apparently the biggest US army base outside of USA. I went on my own because my mates wouldnt go but got teamed up with some WHU fans from Dagenham. right nasty bastards, high as kites most of the time but they were good as gold with me.

We found this night club in Weisbaden and it was owned by a load of Turks. I got to know the lass behind the bar. she was called Ivanya. Her mother was Czech and her Father German (summit like that) and was drop dead gorgeous. an absolute stunner. the night before the final I told her that it was my last night and it had been nice to talk to her. This was about 2am and we were leaving for Munich at 6am. she leant over the bar and said to me "would you like to come home with me and spend the day with me". Now this was a quandry. should i spend the day with her or go to the match.....i thoroughly enjoyed the final.

At the final I was standing with the WHU lads up top (the pitch is in a bowl) and who should come walking round but bobby Robson. robson was under pressure at the time, he was being slaughtered in the press and by the fans and he was ignoring most people. My auntie and uncle lived next door to his mam and dad in Langley Park and I'd met him a couple of times. Really nice bloke. As he was walking around he stopped and looked at me. smiled and looked at me clearly thinking that he knew me from somewhere. loads of people standing around I reminded him who I was and he turned around in front of everyone and said "ah yes I remember you now, how is your auntie Vera and your Uncle Jack". :cool: Everyone stood and looked on kind of bemused as we chatted for a couple of minutes about the NE. I have a picture of me with him somewhere. I wondered afterwards whether there is any other region in the country could have produced such a bizarre scene. The England manager talking to a normal lad (term used loosely) about his auntie and uncle in langley park at the final of the Euros. :lol:

I've got some great stories about France in 1998 as well.
Ivanya Tovankoff ? :eek::lol:
 
Class.
Could you imagine that happening these days, you only need to fart on a bus today and they hoy you off.
Another trip which we shared the bus with Jarra, one of the Jarra lads was heavily involved in some card school at the back of the bus and didnt fancy the hike all the way up the front of the bus for a piss so proceeded to piss in his empty carrier bag. Now stuck with a bag full of piss he thought it a good idea to stand on the seat and lob the bag out the skylight. Unfortunately those skylights didnt open very far and he caught the bag on the hinge and it burst all over him and the card school below. The dorty fuckas carried on with their card game too.
 
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gateshead bus on way home midnight from a town ...the chant was where the famous gateshead branch and where on the motoway motoway bopping up the bus iles to la la la la la la la la johnny comes marching home ..big kev wilson .cod . you . and evey feecker bopping..no one could touch that gateshead bus everyone stood together young n old fact .
 
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Cracking thread.

Any of you lads got any tales of following England abroad?

Mainly Eastern Europe. Poland in 99 (Saski Park) looked f***ing mental :eek:



I was in poland then with some blackpool was scary..although a lot of games iive eastern europe were then..one of the blackpItalyol lads got locked up with a well known Sunderland lad in poland and had to rob their way home..but not my story to tell..england games always bring up a tale..Ive seen england abroad about 50 times since Italy in 1997..always a tale
 
shef u away the alax sabela game two buses from gateshead stopped off at barnsley for night out ,,,arrived 6 ish left midnight escort out of town ,,good night until a local called kevin wilson fatty ,,,big mistake bouncers locals us a free for all cod with his bruce lee stance lots hurt that night ,buses on way back to gateshead a scene from braveheart blood everywhere ,,,remember that cc all becouse of the word [ f a t t y ] ..you could not make it up ,,
 
shef u away the alax sabela game two buses from gateshead stopped off at barnsley for night out ,,,arrived 6 ish left midnight escort out of town ,,good night until a local called kevin wilson fatty ,,,big mistake bouncers locals us a free for all cod with his bruce lee stance lots hurt that night ,buses on way back to gateshead a scene from braveheart blood everywhere ,,,remember that cc all becouse of the word [ f a t t y ] ..you could not make it up ,,


Mad night that, 16 locked up and the rest of us with black eyes, bust lips etc. Was headlines on Metro radio news the next morning.
Backs to the wall stuff, every nutter in Barnsley turned up:eek:.
 
Mad night that, 16 locked up and the rest of us with black eyes, bust lips etc. Was headlines on Metro radio news the next morning.
Backs to the wall stuff, every nutter in Barnsley turned up:eek:.
i was a semi pro cricketer those days should have worn my box got a reet kick in the knackers off a west indian bouncer pardon the pun but i did my nuts went from mini marbals to rugby balls in minutes ,,,good night though mate we were just on piss nearest town on way home ,, the whole of barnsley turned on us i went to q e hospital on the sunday morning ane their was deka , davey det , getting stitches and a cast on his wrist , remember that hill to the coaches we walked up it backwards as the locals followed us , if it were not for cod , kevin , aggers , ackie , butch , i recon it was our time that night 80 0f us on a night out then a local called kevin fatty . that i do remember well ....
 
Or cans of lager. My 21st birthday Cambridge away on Franky's bus £4.50 bus fare in reality it was a fiver and a free can of lager. Used to pick up in every village in Co. Durham or so it seemed.

Was it the trip where Peter the driver knew a short cut? We pulled of a perfectly good dual carriageway heading in to Cambridge and ended up lost for two hours on some farm track.
 
you no what lads ok a few of us talk about the aggro them days but it was life away ..and red n white or black n white scarfs at a derby was the norm so you were a target if you were age 15 to 50s i recon ..no scarf was worse ..on here we talk the truth becouse every story is backed up by others even strangers so no bull ...bath lane. pink lane .gallowgate petrol station ..haymarket. malboro bus station . high level bridge . around sjp.around roker park .all the stories are true facts that were part of a derby them days not arranged intrenet stuff not fairy story books by mr m ..it was life then how can we oldies forget it ..was not nice but it happend it was you or the mag at that age ..which at roker park for me was a 14 year old seeing it all ..
No internet, but back abut 69 in the RK days, the mag put an advert in one of the local papers in the classifieds "All Sunderland fans meet in the Strawberry" !
It was trap!! haha dozy gets.

Also remember all of us and a right old squad it was being ejected on a full train to Middlesbrough, I think it was Billingham and then marching to Ayresome park with no law in sight and battling in a park, anyone Remember?
Aye that's was mint, the boro lads were getting chased up the road by our lads on the other train and we were marching down the other way having walked from think it was Thornaby.

Ray Kennedy, Seaham skin?
That was Joe Kennedy from Seaham

can anyone remember harry akka and oxo from shields
harry always had that little thin axe in his donkey jacket
Yes, know big Harry well he went on the trawlers I recall, Oxo was a little mean looking character wit tattoos
 
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Was it the trip where Peter the driver knew a short cut? We pulled of a perfectly good dual carriageway heading in to Cambridge and ended up lost for two hours on some farm track.
April 21st 1979 I would have thought something like that would have stuck in my mind, unless I was too pissed to remeMber. Not remembering was a big part of the seventies and eighties come to think of it. When we get together and crack on about our away days theres always some detail that comes up that one of us didn t know.

Class.
Could you imagine that happening these days, you only need to fart on a bus today and they hoy you off.

Our old charabang had a hatch in the gangway which easily opened. Best to let the bus slow down a bit first.
Card schools with seats wedged in the aisles.
Waking up at 5/6 o clock on long aways going into bag for a can and spying 2 or 3 of your mates still drinking pissed as farts and no cans or bait left. This used to happen regular so I decided to pay him back. We got on the bus had a few pick up stops and I pinched his bait. Handed it round the bus I even gave him some he loved it the greedy fucker. When it was all gone I told him it was his bait. He flipped, went straight down the bus stopped it and got off in the middle of nowhere about 15 mile from home. He walked back, we got to Bristol before he got home, and he left his coat. Hardly ever mention it now. Only every time he comes out.
 
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Another trip which we shared the bus with Jarra, one of the Jarra lads was heavily involved in some card school at the back of the bus and didnt fancy the hike all the way up the front of the bus for a piss so proceeded to piss in his empty carrier bag. Now stuck with a bag full of piss he thought it a good idea to stand on the seat and lob the bag out the skylight. Unfortunately those skylights didnt open very far and he caught the bag on the hinge and it burst all over him and the card school below. The dorty fuckas carried on with their card game too.

Not as good a story but related.

We used to drive up from Mansfield nearly every home game and the drive could get boring so we'd 'amuse' ourselves.

One of the stupid things we did was to have two number plates made and glue them back to back ...... one side was SAFC and the other FUCK OFF!

We'd hold up the SAFC side, as we were passing cars & buses and smile broadly ....... if we passed other exiles they'd hold up scarves and wave.

If it was the 'opposition' they'd put their fingers up, shout and get angry ....... we'd keep smiling and flip the sign :lol:

Pathetic and childish but it made us laugh until we tried it with a patrol car who pulled us up and confiscated it :confused:

Edit: forgot the point of the story.

We did it to some Spurs supporters, at the back of a coach, and we had to swerve when they launched a breeze block out of the skylight.
 
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The year or so before Millwall had chased me and my mates up that paddock at Charlton. I think I was about 17 or so. No idea who the Millwall were, we didnt hang about to find out. May well have been Harry The Dog and his mates. As I say I wasnt about to introduce myself to him.

I was in far worse situations over the years including Earls Court but that was the most frightened I can ever remember being. The turnstiles were miles away and word spread that the mob coming through them were Millwall. Our main lot were still in the pubs, we were all young sitting ducks. When they charged we legged it. That paddock was massive and my legs stopped working about half way up. I stood with an old Charlton fan and his son who was about my age (14 ish). I ran back down and straight on to the pitch as soon as they passed, arrest looked more appealing than Millwall.

One thing that stands out for me about those days is that there was always someone in the group blissfully unaware of any danger, no matter how obvious it was.

3-3 at Upton Park was a nightmare for anyone who stood in that end, every goal triggered a free for all. Razor sharpened 2p pieces rained down on us as we waited to leave after the final whistle, it was a grim affair. When we got out about 50 of us were attempting the walk back to the tube, I really did not want to, ‘oh to be on a bus’.

West Ham were everywhere, a huge mob in front slowing up, a huge one behind closing in and hundreds across the road waiting for their moment. The further we got away from the ground the fewer the coppers and the more of them there were. We were a small group of donkey jackets in a sea of claret and blue. Eventually the gaps closed up and they came across the road, Frankie shouted ‘backs to the wall the lads’ so we all grouped together looking outwards, here we go, we were in a bad situation. At that moment my mate started wandering away, someone grabbed him and dragged him back just in time. We all made it on to the tube relatively unscathed, everyone was hugely relieved. During the post mortem we asked what the fuck he was doing? he replied, ‘going for a programme.’

Thirty minutes before the kick off another lad was berating the driver to put his foot down as we made a final approach to the Old Den, everyone was giving us the come on and doing cut throat sign, it looked deadly out there. Dressed in red & white from head to toe this lad was adamant he was going for a 'quick pint'?

Half a dozen of us were sat in a big Arsenal pub on Holloway Road after the match. One of the lads came back from the bar to casually announce he’d overheard a group them talking. They were planning to ‘Attack those Sunderland wankers’ the minute the police riot vans parked directly outside the left. As we were the only Sunderland in the place it triggered an alarm in everyones head but his. He’d even heard it before he bought the pints which we now had to sup sharpish with one eye on the police vans.
 
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