Dear oh dear, the obsessed " i believe all the hooligan books/stories" one is frothing at the mouth again.
I didn't go, but the people i have spoke with that went said they stayed with the Villa fans for an hour or so at the ground afterwards before getting escorted through Digbeth.You really like all the sad posturing by the sounds of things. I'm amazed you find time to sell H&V, with all the hooliganism going on.
Quote from: Greg N'Ash on December 28, 2011, 12:13:10 AMAnyway it probably should be all red from all the midland plastic mancs and bindippersBirmingham must have one of the highest rates of gloryhunting out of the major cities.Does anyone in Aston actually support Villa?And does anyone in Small Heath actually support Blues?
Anyway it probably should be all red from all the midland plastic mancs and bindippers
Which hooligan book tells the story of the notorious desperadoes so scared of public transport they will only travel to the home of their local rivals by official coach? Doesn't sound very good.'It was the day of the big game and I was buzzing. Mom had left me an outfit to wear and ran me a bath. Making good use of the soap, I hid my 2-carat gold bollocks on a chain up my arse - I didn't want to get sussed out until I was ready. Taxi to the Sty as I didn't want to get on any buses or trains today - those Villa bastards have got spotters everywhere, even in the staunchest nose areas since they won the European Cup. All the firm was there as the coaches arrived. No colours on show, we didn't want to give ourselves away until the time was right. The OB were there in force, some of us tried to shake them by hiding in the coach toilets but they were wise to it. Heads down as we drove past the Vile ground, no singing - we didn't want it coming on top til we could really do some damage. We slipped silently into the ground having negotiated the thirty yard trek from the coach park. I was about to flick the V's at one of Vile's top boys but next time I get nicked I'm going away for a very long time, and anyway, he was with his dad. I took my seat and felt the pain of my b-lose badge dig me in the arse. I must have shit myself a bit when I saw how far it was from the coach park to the ground. I scanned the crowd to pick out a victim for later, and made eye contact with a Viler in the family stand. This was my moment - I drew back my hand and with my index finger made the best, most threatening cut-throat gesture ever. And in that one mad moment I didn't give a fuck that she was with her husband.We lost, of course.'
I know we like to be fair minded but their support, home and away, for a city of this size is embarrassing.
Oh God, here's the other one. Does anyone else miss Sheldon nose or whatever his name was?
I took her up the Prince Hal when she was seventeen.
Which hooligan book tells the story of the notorious desperadoes so scared of public transport they will only travel to the home of their local rivals by official coach? Doesn't sound very good.'It was the day of the big game and I was buzzing. Mom had left me an outfit to wear and ran me a bath. Making good use of the soap, I hid my 2-carat gold bollocks on a chain up my arse - I didn't want to get sussed out until I was ready.Taxi to the Sty as I didn't want to get on any buses or trains today - those Villa bastards have got spotters everywhere, even in the staunchest nose areas since they won the European Cup. All the firm was there as the coaches arrived. No colours on show, we didn't want the gobby cowards to shit themselves as soon as they bumped into anyone. Them that is, not us. The OB were there in force, some of us tried to shake them by hiding in the coach toilets but they were wise to it. Heads down as we drove past the Vile ground, no singing - we didn't want it coming on top til we could really do some damage. We slipped silently into the ground having negotiated the thirty yard trek from the coach park. I was about to flick the V's at one of Vile's top boys but next time I get nicked I'm going away for a very long time, and anyway, he was with his dad. I took my seat and felt the pain of my b-lose badge dig me in the arse. I must have shit myself a bit when I saw how far it was from the coach park to the ground. I scanned the crowd to pick out a victim for later, and made eye contact with a Viler in the family stand. This was my moment - I drew back my hand and with my index finger made the best, most threatening cut-throat gesture ever. And in that one mad moment I didn't give a fuck that she was with her husband.We lost, of course.'