very much looking forward to being back in HU tomorrow - the first time in fact since I managed - by dint of extraordinary measures* - to get possibly the last ticket on sale, that hot Saturday afternoon in May 1998, when we whupped Palarse 6-0.
So, peace and love to all mankind, and olive branches all round.
COME ON YOU Rs!!!!!!!
* and therein lies a tale. My best mate Dare, who lived in Oaklands Grove at the time, had promised to get us tickets for the game while I was away on holiday in Spain. When I returned, on the Friday night before the game, I phoned him up with tingling anticipation, to see where he'd got us seats. Oh, he said, meekly, I forgot. FORGOT??!! YOU FUCKING WELL FORGOT???? I was briefly dumbfounded, totally lost for words. Okay, I thought, I will just have to lay my hands on a ticket tomorrow, I am determined to get in to that game, by hook or by crook!
The next day, that baking Saturday, I scoured the boards and messaged friends and put out appeals, all to no avail. I was pretty skint at the time (esp. after hols) and upon arriving at LR found a tout selling tickets for £60 quid. I just didn't have that much cash on me. I legged it back to the Bushranger to plead and beg and ask friends for help. Someone, I think it might have been Scaff, said use my mate's name and address, he's a member (or ST holder or something that meant he was eligible for a ticket that I wasn't). Memorising these details as I went, I legged it back to LR and stood in the hopelessly long queue for the ticket office, a queue where people were being turned away empty-handed. 'No tickets left' was the word on the grapevine. By now, people were filing into the ground and the game was about to kick off. I clung to a desperate hope, and waited my turn.
Inside the ground, the game kicked off, I heard the roar from the crowd and the chants. I reached the counter, the very last person in the queue, and put my case and the details to the person behind the window. They looked dubious, but then there was a change of heart, a shift in the unverse... something happened... hold on, they said, there might be one last ticket. They went off and came back, brandishing a (metaphorically speaking) golden ticket. It's in HU, they warned me, very limited view mind... Hallelujah! I cried, I'll take it! That'll be eight pounds, they said. Eight pounds! I almost cried with relief and joy. I raced through the empty turnstiles and up to HU... and the rest.. well, you know the rest. Happy days.
COME ON YOU Rs!!!!!!!!!
Hubris v Morphine, Sat 18th Aug 2012
Chinese John was taking me to Gatwick (no that's not a euphemism), on me way to Tunisia. Missed all of the commentary any erryting. I heard even Scully was good.
placing a bet on 6-0 as we speak...umm.
... HUm! Life goes on.
rdy Gurdy Man.