A Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe: The Match – Nottingham Forest vs Ipswich Town

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My mates were away on holiday, so I wrapped myself up in a great coat, scarf, flat cap etc (It was very cold as you would have gathered, if not please pay more attention – thank you).

I took a beef dripping sandwich, apple, and bar of Punch chocolate, and set off to the match on my own.

There was a big crowd, and I made me way to the East stand at the front wall, behind the dug-out.

At half time, I struggled through the crowd to get a Bovril drink, and somehow managed to get back to my spot without spilling too much.

Just as I was biting into the apple, a surge of bodies forced me and everyone else nearby, to be squashed up against the low wall, fearing another surge coming from the yobs behind, I threw away the apple and Bovril cup in an effort to free my hands to use to help stop me being crushed against the wall.

At which point I found myself being man handled and dragged over the wall by two nice policemen, who gave me a dead-leg, crammed my arm up my back, and frog-marched me into the car park, and secured me in the back of an Austin black maria!

I stood in the cage in the back of the black-maria, confused, about what I might have done to warrant being here?

Occasionally, the doors would open, and a protesting yob or two would be forced into joining we already squashed up inmates in the cages.

I could hear that the match had finished, and after about half an hour or so, the doors opened again, and some police officers accompanied by a couple of police dogs pulled out a few of the incarcerated, me included, into the car park, and suggested we go forth and multiply!

Presumably those still in the van were to be prosecuted, we in the car park were cautioned.

I found out much later, why I was removed from the ground. A neighbour had been standing near to where I was on the East stand, and had seen it all happen, and explained it to me: As I was being crushed  involuntarily into the wall by the surge of fans behind me, the apple I threw away to allow me to use my hands to protect myself from the wall, had landed on a policeman’s helmet!

Ah well, at least I understood why the bobby had dead-legged me, and caught my head on the cage door twice as he implanted me in the black-maria now.

Oh.. and Forest lost the match too!

4 thoughts on “A Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe: The Match – Nottingham Forest vs Ipswich Town

  1. mikesteeden – An aging old fool devoid of common sense and incapable of changing a light bulb. A ‘lefty’ at heart; an atheist by nature; I have no desire to be taken seriously! Certain quotes seem to sum me up I think! 'If its got a face I don't eat it!' - Paul McCartney 'Isn't it enough to see that a garden is beautiful without having to believe that there are fairies at the bottom of it too?' - Douglas Adams (1952-2001) 'I almost cared' - No recollection of who said this! 'Man created God in his own image' - as above. 'UKIP if you want to; I'm staying awake' - one of mine!
    mikesteeden

    At least you didn’t go for the half time housebrick – ever so popular at the Shed end at Stamford Brook!

    • Inchcock – Nottingham. UK. – 73 years of age, pretty ugly, short, bald, pot-bellied, in ill health. Decaying physically and morally. Metal ticker, Duodenal Donald, Saccades-Sandra, Arthur Rheumatoid Itis, Hernia Henry, Hard of Hearing Hank, Bad eyesight Boris, Reflux Roger, Peripheral Neuropathy, Nerve Neurotransmitters Not-working Wendy, Bladder Cancer Chris, Stuttering Sandra, Haemorrhoid Harold, Shaking Shaun, Dizzy Dennis... there are others, but I've tired myself out, now! Hehehe! Oh, then I had a stroke! Now awaiting Cataract & Glaucoma operations. Tsk! Failures, Accifauxpas and Whoopsiedangleplops are my Forte... Hehehe! I love making folk smile when I can. TTFNski!
      Inchcock

      I was in the maria by then Mike. And… I say AND… the entrance fee had just gone up to 3/11d!!!
      Tsk!

  2. Marissa Bergen – Burbank, Ca – This blog is a semi auto-biographical view of my life, beginning as a rocker chick from Brooklyn, moving on to playing in a punk band on New York's Lower East Side, to my current lot in life as a working mother of two, now living in Los Angeles. I love writing because you can be whoever you want to be when you write. Therefore, I would never want to pigeon-hole myself too much in my blog. However, I don't think I will ever deviate too much from what is innately in my blood, that being humor and sarcasm. Recently I have been turning more and more to poetry. I like poetry because it let's you say so much more with so much less, so much more about so little, and it also distances you from the subject matter, making you much less likely to offend someone, which I would probably otherwise do on a daily basis.
    Marissa Bergen

    And to think… All you were trying to do was enjoy an apple. Thank goodness it wasnt a chocolate bar!

    • Inchcock – Nottingham. UK. – 73 years of age, pretty ugly, short, bald, pot-bellied, in ill health. Decaying physically and morally. Metal ticker, Duodenal Donald, Saccades-Sandra, Arthur Rheumatoid Itis, Hernia Henry, Hard of Hearing Hank, Bad eyesight Boris, Reflux Roger, Peripheral Neuropathy, Nerve Neurotransmitters Not-working Wendy, Bladder Cancer Chris, Stuttering Sandra, Haemorrhoid Harold, Shaking Shaun, Dizzy Dennis... there are others, but I've tired myself out, now! Hehehe! Oh, then I had a stroke! Now awaiting Cataract & Glaucoma operations. Tsk! Failures, Accifauxpas and Whoopsiedangleplops are my Forte... Hehehe! I love making folk smile when I can. TTFNski!
      Inchcock

      Coe blimey your right again Marissa.
      (I’ve put you in me latest post wot I just done)
      Off to kip now… TTFN

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