Chapter Nine
Mad Van Days
What I like about the Christmas and New Year programmes is the away games, if not a local derby then it’s a close one not too far away. We usually have a good turn out and even the married lads get an outing to vent their frustration. We had started travelling more in vans and a jaunt that comes to mind at this period was a trip to Grimsby. This was on News Year’s day, and around sixteen of us made the journey in the van. A good tidy mob and the hope of a meet with some of the other crews. The journey not too far was welcome especially with the after stench of stale beer that had been consumed from the night before. The mood as usual was full of laughter and we had some of the crew’s top boys in. I remember it being quite warm for this time of year with a crisp salty wind blowing. We had parked up not far from the ground and a bit of something to eat was taken at this opportunity waiting for opening time
We ended up in the Mariners pub at opening time, looking back, we all knew that this must have been their main pub and we again expected it could kick off at some time, but with this being the season of goodwill and all, we decided just to get blathered and not upset the locals. We ended up drinking at the back of the pub, which was fully open plan down a long narrow aisle stretch from the main open plan part of the pub. No one bothered us and we drank and kept popping out to the bookies. At around one thirty we had visitors, it was the younger dresses mainly from the Moor and Kenmargra squad, some twenty of them had heard we were in and came along, they were headed by the then leading figure of a bloke called Gladstone. This chap was from Granada and here on a student’s visa, he became enthralled in the football scene and loved it. Again no problem and time was getting on, it was near closing time and ready for the match, a few songs had just started and Big K led a rendition of the famous “a knock kneed chicken” when of a sudden all hell let loose on us.
We had switched off and took our eye off the ball, we got sloppy, unbeknown, all our glasses had been collected and stacked at the far end of the bar, they fucking rained them down on us, glass was smashing everywhere and glasses were bouncing off us all, the bastards, one got Knighty and sliced half his face off.
I looked up from my kneeling down position behind the bar, were glasses where still smashing and glass flying all over to see Big K, Fountain, Nick and Syko and a couple of our other big guns charge down the big aisle into their mob with tables in front of them. That was the cue, we were all up and at them, sheer numbers and weapons and still glasses smashing on us drove us back down the aisle and it was mayhem. Severe hand to hand slugging and weapons and glass were flying about all over
I was on the floor with this geezer smacking me over my head with a buffet, I frantically got hold of the buffet and lashed out with my feet, it was said later that my leg movement reminded the lads of a hamster on a wheel going ten to the dozen, not for the first time in my life, Syko came to my rescue and launched this twat with one smack.
I looked up at the brawl in the middle and noticed that apart from us lot, the dressers had disappeared apart from Gladstone and a couple of others were all that was there. There was an empty no man’s land and even the long bar area was unattended. Well nearly, now I might have been mistaken and my eyes were a little blurry but I honestly thought for one moment that the Silver Fox was behind this bar in the vicinity of the till, surely he wasn’t, no it must have been the concussion from the buffet head banging I received that was playing tricks with my mind, well maybe….
Knighty was losing a lot of blood, the fighting by this time had come under control and was dying off, sirens were wailing, behind us was a toilet and we could not get Knighty in, Syko blew his top and kicked the door down and told the hiding young ones to fucking get out and get stuck in or he would fucking kill the lot of them, the law came in, it was a right sight and mess, we got Knighty out and knew that we would have to fight our way to the ground, we got outside and could not believe it, no fucking reception at all, they’d done one, no fucking bottle whatsoever, they’d outnumber us by three if not four to one and did not have it for the off outside. We had a few casualties that day, a couple with bad cuts and concussions, Knighty had his nose and half his face stitched back on and one of the lads had a fractured skull. A lesson learnt that day, never take your eye off the ball, and besides, the young ones, now re-named the “pringleberry runners” by Nick learnt a few values of comradeship and just because you’re outnumbered and it looks bleak, never let your mates down, stick together and nine times out of ten you’ll come off the better.
This came more true later on down the line when some of these same lads went up to the Scotland versus England match on their patch, a coach load went and apart from the usual Chelsea lads, and a few dozen Geordies, this was all that England took up, the lads made a very good name for themselves and held their own. Two of them ended up being nicked and ended up in Glasgow’s tough barlinnie jail for that.