Schalke away. Walked in just as they were about to kick off. Went arse over tit down several rows of seats and was promptly carted out by Gelsenkirchen's finest, slung in a van and driven to the outskirts of the town. Walked back and arrived at the coachpark just as Raz got the winner. Still got my "Kumpl credit card" that you had to use to buy beer in the ground. Got ten quid on it.
The whole of the nineties every away game, cracking open the Stella with Jimmy, George in Stevie Clark's car on Prinny Parkway at 8 in the morning as we headed to Wycombe, Darlington, Northampton, Grimsby, Bristol Rovers and all points in-between. Utterly arseholed and often fast asleep for at least half the game. The football was shite, the trips were the absolute bollocks.