Most pissed you have been at a game..

W W

Wanchope n me Dickov

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Following on from the most pissed off at a game, I got to thinking about the most pissed I have been at a game.

2 contenders for me.

Wigan away in the play off semi - I wondered why their fans were cheering after 30 seconds and realised about a minute later that they had scored.
TNS away in Cardiff. Spent the whole day in Wetherspoons having arrived at Cardiff Central at 1130am. Had my lunch and my tea in that pub and had to watch the game through one eye to avoid double vision,
 
Lokeren away. Steaming at the match and then afterwards in a bar.... My alarm went off at 7am on my watch and I was still in the bar! Nottm Forest away for a 0-0 draw in the League Cup. I thought somebody playing pool was actually standing behind the bar and asked him for a round of drinks. During the match our players were in double vision.
 
Fulham Away 1983-84

Went down early for the boat race, but soon thought bollocks to that, and stayed in the pub.
Spent the whole of the First Half puking in the Main Stand toilets, whilst judging from the noise that we must be losing 4-0.
Oh and Cambridge sunk in the warm-up so the race was cancelled.
 
Semi final v the rags, on JD and Coke from about 6am all a bit of a blur by the time we had passed Birmingham on the coach, kinda remember doing the poznan in the 5th tier then ending up about 4 rows down in a crumbled mess, lots of very jaded memories for the rest of the night then waking up the next day covered in bruises.
 
Semi v rags, remember it all but was on the piss on the coach, skin full in Wealdstone, couple in the ground, fell down 7/8 rows of seats cracking a tooth.

Carried on after at half-time, Wealdstone & coach home.

What a day, what a hangover.
 
Strangely I have never been pissed at a game. It would have been nice under Pearce but I always drove to the games. Even a few Wembley visits I didn't drink much before hand, seems daft to fork out that much money and not remember an actual cup final.
 
Madrid away, Champions League semi. Dicked about getting the ticket and wristband in the morning of the game whilst feeling the effects of the night before. After that a quick hair of the dog was in order, put my ticket in a side pocket of my wallet for ‘safe keeping’.

One thing lead to another and the day descended into getting more and more pissed, met with two blues from Birmingham and the jaiger started. Don’t really remember the trip to the ground, but remember showing my wristband to get to through the first cordon. Then I started fishing about in my wallet to get the ticket out. Couldn’t find it, despite checking for ages. Then the Madrid police got pissed off with my pissed up dithering and sent me on my way. My brother went in and I watched in a bar just outside packed with Madrid , all sat on the floor watching the screen. Managed to find six blues at the back and watched in relative safety.

Woke up in the morning checked my wallet and found the ticket straight away!!
 
There was a really boring derby in late 2010 where I had been drinking White Ace in town all day and then threw up outside Mary D's when someone set a smoke bomb off inside. I also got a smack outside the ground for singing less than acceptable songs - happened right infront of the police and in fairness I think they could have nabbed me if instant karma didn't come around, so i'll take that one. 0-0 draw on the pitch.
 
Maine Road, Monday night match v Southampton, mid 90's.

Couple of cans on the train, got off a Deansgate, pint in town, another 3 in the Claremont. A couple in the ground before KO and another couple at HT. Kebab in Rusholme, staggered back for the late train home.

I'm not really a big drinker, and throughout most of 90's I was 8 1/2 stone wringing wet.

Work the next day - felt sh*t.
 
Some of the Euro always have to be up there, especially when we beat Bayern 3-2 at the Allianz, which happened to be on my birthday, but they are knocked into a cocked hat by the Brighton semi final in 2019.

Ironically enough, had been working in Sussex the day before and my punter took my out on the Friday night in Brighton, which was mental in itself. Got up on Saturday morning and got the train up to London, which was full of Brighton fans (obvs) and started drinking as soon as I landed.

Then went to an Italian off Baker Street for an early lunch with my son and my best mate and after quite a bit of wine started on the Negronis. Must have had at least six each. By the time I got to Wembley I could barely stand. Spent most of the first half drifting in and out of sleep, although I saw the goal. Sobered up enough to watch the second half in its entirety.

I was an absolute shambles tbf and fuck knows what those sat around me thought. Still, I have a very high embarrassment threshold and now look back fondly upon the day.

That period from the defeat of Liverpool through to the Cup Final win v Watford was like something from a dream, it was that good.
About as close to perfection as it’s possible to experience, over half a season (there or thereabouts), as a football supporter - and that mental day was very much part of it.
 
Santander away. My mate and I arrived the day before and got involved in a biblical drinking session with other blues. Went on most of the night, ending up drinking all sorts of shots etc. Then spent the day of the game with horrendous hangover, throwing up every 30 minutes and slept in my seat through the match itself. Was told by quite a few people afterwards that I had been lucky to miss it.
 
Plzen away, two of us went in a bar in the town centre in early afternoon and we must have got through nine or ten rounds of the local Pilsner lager before meeting up with a couple of other Blues in a restaurant near the stadium where we had a couple more before heading to the match. Then afterwards we went back to the hotel bar for another couple of drinks yet I had no hangover the following morning, normally I'm under the table after about 6 or 7 pints. The only reason I could think of was that the lager came straight from the brewery near the stadium for local consumption without any of the usual additives in it.
 
Stoke away one year when I landed in a student bar selling jäger bombs for a quid

got the train down and was confused when I woke up on my bathroom floor the next day

turns out my dad has driven down and took me home in the car where I climbed into the boot and found a crate of lager
 
Definitely Monchengladbach. Ended up talking, and drinking with, two Danish lads in a bar in that town they sent us to pre match. One of them had a picture on his phone of the 'famous Jackie' taken in Mary D's which he was proudly showing everyone. Almost forgot to go to the game ... we won, so I'm told.
 
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