Last time we played Real Madrid....
Memories get a bit fuzzed over the years, but if I remember rightly... in 1981 Ipswich had the UEFA Cup final in Holland a few days before we played Real in Paris in the European Cup Final. Whether they did or not, and whether I have that mixed up, a few of the lads was working in Amsterdam that year. They was working on a Russian trawler as painters. They called it the Love Boat and was makin loads of dough but doing fuck all work.
5 of us decided to go see them, go the Ipswich game on the rob, go on the mooch round Holland and then go on to the final in Paris. Good plan....
One by one the lads fell by the way side, starting off before we even got on the ferry. It ended up 2 of us, with fuck all nixo, stuck in Amsterdam. The lads used to drink in a bar called the 3 Musketeers. I went into a shop around the corner from the bar. I seen a load of shirts on the counter. It sort of struck my mind that it was a bit weird because it was a gift shop, but I robbed them anyway.
I was selling them around the Muskie's for a couple of guilders a go, when some kunt shouts... "aye, aye lad. What's going on here?"
I has a look, and some kunts name, Robbie or something, was on the shirt the lad had just bought.... I'd robbed some poor kunts washing. Sorry Robbie, but it was a sound laugh except I couldn't sell another fucking shirt.
Cutting a long one, I ended up getting a lift off some Jocks that were working in Jersey and going back there on some ferry from France. I jumped in the car with them and they said they'd drop me in Paris.
Sound as. But along the way, they gave me some acid and I dropped that an all. Good lads.
Fuck knows what really happened after that, but I got out of the car, laughing me bollacks off in downtown Paris, but ended up outside the Park De Paris (If that's the right name for the stadium) triping me head off, happy as a clam at about 6 am in the fuckin morning.
Didn't realise, I'd left me bag in the car - passport in it. I sat there all morning, just whistling, laughing, singing, seeing little birdies and fuck knows what else, with just a pair of shorts and trainees on.
There was a little fat fella, probably about my age now, walking up and down, accosting people, wheeling and dealing. I goes up to him... "Billet, su vu play?" He was having none of it. I harrished him to fuck. I'd seen him, in and out of his shirt pocket. I started getting aggressive. I pointed at his top pocket.... Billet, billet, fucking billet.
"No billet" he says, goes in his pocket and pulls out a wad that would choke a donkey... "No billet. Gelt!"
Fuck off - snatched.
Tatty bye. A good time was had by all. I hope it's a bit more lively than that on Wednesday.
