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.
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.
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!