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Are we ( English fans ) an embarrassment nowadays
- Thread starter oman0115
- Start date
lancs blue
Well-Known Member
Lokeren was very much a special case, first proper European trip (not counting Cardiff!) for nearly 25 years so there was always going to be a novelty factor in the numbers that travelled - many without tickets - and tbf Lokeren did make an effort to accommodate us by putting up that temporary stand behind the goal for 4,000.I'll be going to Russia next year. Will gauge the situation and keep my head down when necessary. I grew up knowing that English fans were hard core and would always travel in huge numbers. I don't think that's the case today. Remember that lokeren game? I don't know how many blues travelled for that but must have been around 10,000 and the stadium wasn't much bigger than that.
Very similar to Kolns situation then. Lokeren was a brilliant trip by the way. I'm pretty sure the stadium was 75% city. I remember it kicking off big time in the stand to our right.Lokeren was very much a special case, first proper European trip (not counting Cardiff!) for nearly 25 years so there was always going to be a novelty factor in the numbers that travelled - many without tickets - and tbf Lokeren did make an effort to accommodate us by putting up that temporary stand behind the goal for 4,000.
lancs blue
Well-Known Member
I heard afterwards that was caused by a Belgian nutter from a rival club who'd got hold of a City away shirt and started scrapping with the home fans.Very similar to Kolns situation then. Lokeren was a brilliant trip by the way. I'm pretty sure the stadium was 75% city. I remember it kicking off big time in the stand to our right.
I think any football fan who goes out to have a fight at the match is an absolute embarrassment. You see them on the news at England away games with their tops off, beer bellies out, caps on and tattoos everywhere with their arms outstretched thinking its some sort of invasion and I just look at them and think what a bunch of utter wank stains you are.
A bit like this?
I heard something similar but I thought it was rival Belgian clubs combining to fight city fans. Yours sounds more logical.I heard afterwards that was caused by a Belgian nutter from a rival club who'd got hold of a City away shirt and started scrapping with the home fans.
Magicpole
Well-Known Member
When I was in Lyon after the France World Cup, they were edgy that the trouble caused by some of the english fans would be repeated.
Initially the cops were trigger happy but when they realised we weren't there to fight, things chilled out.
I was talking to the French owner of a bar trashed and he was telling me how bad they were. I corrected him though, it wasn't all English fans, that 90% of them were just like us wanting to see the football and enjoy paying extortionate prices for beer. My sister lives there, I was born there and I have many friends who wouldn't entertain such shite.
This is the problem. The guys who start all the trouble, aren't the ones who pick up the tab. It's normal guys sitting having a beer that are attacked. I have seen more fights between Celtic fans who shout pricks down who want to start stuff than with any opposing fans.
The situation for you is you are now the yardstick by which every second rate and some first rate mobs measure themselves. This puts all England fans at risk from these groups. The result of that is guys who want to go and support the team, get pissed and enjoy the events are at times required to fight to protect and defend themselves.
Russia worries me, not that we will get there, or that we will be attacked, because we generally don't get targeted, but I worry for the English fans who through no fault of any of their actions will be targeted.
Looking back to the trouble up here when the plastic chair commandos arrived back in the early nineties, there was a lot of scrapping and dozens of English fans spent the weekend in Barlinie Prison as did Scottish fans. The Evenng Times ran a story from some of the English fans who spent their weekend there was entitled. My Barlinie Hell.
Seems our incarcerated violent nutcase's didn't take too kindly to their escapades and might explain why things calmed down. The thought of getting banged up with the mentalists we produce in a jail environment should take the shine of any thought for starting shit.
I have spoken to a few mates who follow Scotland and will go to Russia if we scrape through and asked them what they will do if they see English fans in bother. They replied if it's ordinary English guys being targeted just for being English, they would steam in to help them, but, if it's the plastic chair commandos, they can go fuck themselves. I was happy they said that as to me this is the proper thing to do.
I was asked by the same bar owner how the four home nations got on and did we fight all the time. I tried to explain it thus.
We are like four brothers living at home, all arguing, slagging and sometimes fighting each other. This may look like they just hate each other. But when one of them is attacked by outsiders they all steam in to sort whoever is attacking the brother, when that is sorted, we go back to bickering and fighting with each other. That is our strength, when the chips are down we realise who we need to fight for.
Hopefully it will pass peacefully in Russia, I just can't see it though.
Initially the cops were trigger happy but when they realised we weren't there to fight, things chilled out.
I was talking to the French owner of a bar trashed and he was telling me how bad they were. I corrected him though, it wasn't all English fans, that 90% of them were just like us wanting to see the football and enjoy paying extortionate prices for beer. My sister lives there, I was born there and I have many friends who wouldn't entertain such shite.
This is the problem. The guys who start all the trouble, aren't the ones who pick up the tab. It's normal guys sitting having a beer that are attacked. I have seen more fights between Celtic fans who shout pricks down who want to start stuff than with any opposing fans.
The situation for you is you are now the yardstick by which every second rate and some first rate mobs measure themselves. This puts all England fans at risk from these groups. The result of that is guys who want to go and support the team, get pissed and enjoy the events are at times required to fight to protect and defend themselves.
Russia worries me, not that we will get there, or that we will be attacked, because we generally don't get targeted, but I worry for the English fans who through no fault of any of their actions will be targeted.
Looking back to the trouble up here when the plastic chair commandos arrived back in the early nineties, there was a lot of scrapping and dozens of English fans spent the weekend in Barlinie Prison as did Scottish fans. The Evenng Times ran a story from some of the English fans who spent their weekend there was entitled. My Barlinie Hell.
Seems our incarcerated violent nutcase's didn't take too kindly to their escapades and might explain why things calmed down. The thought of getting banged up with the mentalists we produce in a jail environment should take the shine of any thought for starting shit.
I have spoken to a few mates who follow Scotland and will go to Russia if we scrape through and asked them what they will do if they see English fans in bother. They replied if it's ordinary English guys being targeted just for being English, they would steam in to help them, but, if it's the plastic chair commandos, they can go fuck themselves. I was happy they said that as to me this is the proper thing to do.
I was asked by the same bar owner how the four home nations got on and did we fight all the time. I tried to explain it thus.
We are like four brothers living at home, all arguing, slagging and sometimes fighting each other. This may look like they just hate each other. But when one of them is attacked by outsiders they all steam in to sort whoever is attacking the brother, when that is sorted, we go back to bickering and fighting with each other. That is our strength, when the chips are down we realise who we need to fight for.
Hopefully it will pass peacefully in Russia, I just can't see it though.
I was at the England Russia game. We had a frustrating night on the pitch, but not off...
Not gonna lie, I wasn't there for the disco. So when the Ruskies decided to run our lads I was c**k-a-hoop. I wasn't in the section where the charge took place but managed to clamber over the walkway, plough my way through the fleeing English scarfers, and wade straight into the stinking slavs.
Didn't know what to expect from their boys; dusters, blades? It's all the same to me.
First lad to come at me was a wiry little punk with a penchant for kung fu kicks. Soppy shite looked like he was really enjoying himself. I stuck the nut on him and threw him over my back to clear a path.
Next up was some plonker built like a nightclub bouncer, well he got bounced alright - about three rows down thanks to a crushing right hand. G'night son.
Another lad shaped like he fancied a go but, having just seen his pal get one arrowed, thought better of it. The look in his eye screamed 'Ivana go home'.
At this point it became clear to Vlad's lads that they'd met their match. I stuck my arms out by my sides and felt the rush of victory - it was a proud moment to be representing my country like that.
I sauntered back to the England lads and received a lot of slaps on the back: 'well done mate', said a Chelsea Pensioner, 'you've got some balls you have'. That was reward enough for me, but he insisted on unpinning one of his medals and sticking it on my burberry bumbag. We saluted each other and belted out the national anthem one more time.
A night that will stick in my mind forever.:)
Not gonna lie, I wasn't there for the disco. So when the Ruskies decided to run our lads I was c**k-a-hoop. I wasn't in the section where the charge took place but managed to clamber over the walkway, plough my way through the fleeing English scarfers, and wade straight into the stinking slavs.
Didn't know what to expect from their boys; dusters, blades? It's all the same to me.
First lad to come at me was a wiry little punk with a penchant for kung fu kicks. Soppy shite looked like he was really enjoying himself. I stuck the nut on him and threw him over my back to clear a path.
Next up was some plonker built like a nightclub bouncer, well he got bounced alright - about three rows down thanks to a crushing right hand. G'night son.
Another lad shaped like he fancied a go but, having just seen his pal get one arrowed, thought better of it. The look in his eye screamed 'Ivana go home'.
At this point it became clear to Vlad's lads that they'd met their match. I stuck my arms out by my sides and felt the rush of victory - it was a proud moment to be representing my country like that.
I sauntered back to the England lads and received a lot of slaps on the back: 'well done mate', said a Chelsea Pensioner, 'you've got some balls you have'. That was reward enough for me, but he insisted on unpinning one of his medals and sticking it on my burberry bumbag. We saluted each other and belted out the national anthem one more time.
A night that will stick in my mind forever.:)
I was at the England Russia game. We had a frustrating night on the pitch, but not off...
Not gonna lie, I wasn't there for the disco. So when the Ruskies decided to run our lads I was c**k-a-hoop. I wasn't in the section where the charge took place but managed to clamber over the walkway, plough my way through the fleeing English scarfers, and wade straight into the stinking slavs.
Didn't know what to expect from their boys; dusters, blades? It's all the same to me.
First lad to come at me was a wiry little punk with a penchant for kung fu kicks. Soppy shite looked like he was really enjoying himself. I stuck the nut on him and threw him over my back to clear a path.
Next up was some plonker built like a nightclub bouncer, well he got bounced alright - about three rows down thanks to a crushing right hand. G'night son.
Another lad shaped like he fancied a go but, having just seen his pal get one arrowed, thought better of it. The look in his eye screamed 'Ivana go home'.
At this point it became clear to Vlad's lads that they'd met their match. I stuck my arms out by my sides and felt the rush of victory - it was a proud moment to be representing my country like that.
I sauntered back to the England lads and received a lot of slaps on the back: 'well done mate', said a Chelsea Pensioner, 'you've got some balls you have'. That was reward enough for me, but he insisted on unpinning one of his medals and sticking it on my burberry bumbag. We saluted each other and belted out the national anthem one more time.
A night that will stick in my mind forever.:)
Fuck, you are well hard!
I was at the England Russia game. We had a frustrating night on the pitch, but not off...
Not gonna lie, I wasn't there for the disco. So when the Ruskies decided to run our lads I was c**k-a-hoop. I wasn't in the section where the charge took place but managed to clamber over the walkway, plough my way through the fleeing English scarfers, and wade straight into the stinking slavs.
Didn't know what to expect from their boys; dusters, blades? It's all the same to me.
First lad to come at me was a wiry little punk with a penchant for kung fu kicks. Soppy shite looked like he was really enjoying himself. I stuck the nut on him and threw him over my back to clear a path.
Next up was some plonker built like a nightclub bouncer, well he got bounced alright - about three rows down thanks to a crushing right hand. G'night son.
Another lad shaped like he fancied a go but, having just seen his pal get one arrowed, thought better of it. The look in his eye screamed 'Ivana go home'.
At this point it became clear to Vlad's lads that they'd met their match. I stuck my arms out by my sides and felt the rush of victory - it was a proud moment to be representing my country like that.
I sauntered back to the England lads and received a lot of slaps on the back: 'well done mate', said a Chelsea Pensioner, 'you've got some balls you have'. That was reward enough for me, but he insisted on unpinning one of his medals and sticking it on my burberry bumbag. We saluted each other and belted out the national anthem one more time.
A night that will stick in my mind forever.:)
Fair play.
That had me laughing out loud.