Easy 10
Brain dead MUG SHEEP
Just back from me holibobs, and had a fantastic time in sunny Cyprus. Didn't see so much as a cloud throughout it all, it was absolutely sweltering - in fact, the heat at times was bordering on obscene. My nose is now flaking into my keyboard as I type, and I'm throroughly looking forward to having a good old pick at my shoulders this evening during the match. Bet you all wish you live with ME now.
Anyway, one of the big highlights of the holiday was during the England v Switzerland game. I'd wandered into Protarus town centre proudly resplendent in the Stripes, and settled down on a barstool, propping up the bar, watching the build-up and slowly getting bladdered on Keo. By kickoff the bar was packed, great atmosphere, until half way through the first half, the power cut. Completely. Lights out, beer pumps off, the lot. Near panic ensued, till after a few seconds, power was restored. However, the 42'' wide screen TV was now showing some kind of ethnic craftwork programme, with a grizzled old lepper tying bits of twine around what appeared to be large, dried-out scrotum. Just as the bar was about to clear completely, order was restored to the screens just in time to see RRROOOONNNEEYY put us into the lead, and the grizzled lepper was quickly forgotton in the carnage of the celebtration.
The second half began with...another power cut. I'd have left there and then, but I'd just got another beer in. Thankfully we were spared the dubious craftwork programme this time and the match was quickly restored within seconds. But ten minutes later, it cut again...and that was that. Everyone just got up, left their drinks and cleared off to alternative bars in the street, leaving the place all but deserted, save for some sheepish looking staff rushing around again trying to sort it, or shrugging helplessly at us.
So I took residence in a bar over the street, standing room only. There were five lads in England shirts near the front, and as soon as they clapped eyes on me - in the Stripes - an almighty cheer went up. "SSEEEEEAAAGGGUULLLLSSS" and "WE LOVE YOU BRIGHTON, WE DO". It turns out they were Bristol Rovers fans, and from the reception I got, you'd have thought I'd scored with winning goal in the Playoff Final meself. I immediately had a pint thrust into my hand, and the only downside was the crippling backslaps on my sunburn from the drunken but delerious Gas-Heads. As the other two England goals went in, we all celebrated together, and by the end I could barely leave for all the handshakes. Great bunch of lads.
Eventually I got away and met up with the missus, and we sat down for a splendid meal in a local steakhouse. Later that night, as I stood up to relieve myself (in the toilet obviously), the Bristol Boys spotted me from their seats across the road in McDonalds, and struck up a "WE LOVE YOU BRIGHTON, WE DO" chant...all mildly embarrassing, but tremendous at the same time.
A great night I'll never forget, from a great holiday. Gutted to be back now with this wind and pissing rain. But watching England abroad has never been as much fun as that Switzerland game. Truley Marvellous Scenes.
Anyway, one of the big highlights of the holiday was during the England v Switzerland game. I'd wandered into Protarus town centre proudly resplendent in the Stripes, and settled down on a barstool, propping up the bar, watching the build-up and slowly getting bladdered on Keo. By kickoff the bar was packed, great atmosphere, until half way through the first half, the power cut. Completely. Lights out, beer pumps off, the lot. Near panic ensued, till after a few seconds, power was restored. However, the 42'' wide screen TV was now showing some kind of ethnic craftwork programme, with a grizzled old lepper tying bits of twine around what appeared to be large, dried-out scrotum. Just as the bar was about to clear completely, order was restored to the screens just in time to see RRROOOONNNEEYY put us into the lead, and the grizzled lepper was quickly forgotton in the carnage of the celebtration.
The second half began with...another power cut. I'd have left there and then, but I'd just got another beer in. Thankfully we were spared the dubious craftwork programme this time and the match was quickly restored within seconds. But ten minutes later, it cut again...and that was that. Everyone just got up, left their drinks and cleared off to alternative bars in the street, leaving the place all but deserted, save for some sheepish looking staff rushing around again trying to sort it, or shrugging helplessly at us.
So I took residence in a bar over the street, standing room only. There were five lads in England shirts near the front, and as soon as they clapped eyes on me - in the Stripes - an almighty cheer went up. "SSEEEEEAAAGGGUULLLLSSS" and "WE LOVE YOU BRIGHTON, WE DO". It turns out they were Bristol Rovers fans, and from the reception I got, you'd have thought I'd scored with winning goal in the Playoff Final meself. I immediately had a pint thrust into my hand, and the only downside was the crippling backslaps on my sunburn from the drunken but delerious Gas-Heads. As the other two England goals went in, we all celebrated together, and by the end I could barely leave for all the handshakes. Great bunch of lads.
Eventually I got away and met up with the missus, and we sat down for a splendid meal in a local steakhouse. Later that night, as I stood up to relieve myself (in the toilet obviously), the Bristol Boys spotted me from their seats across the road in McDonalds, and struck up a "WE LOVE YOU BRIGHTON, WE DO" chant...all mildly embarrassing, but tremendous at the same time.
A great night I'll never forget, from a great holiday. Gutted to be back now with this wind and pissing rain. But watching England abroad has never been as much fun as that Switzerland game. Truley Marvellous Scenes.
Welcome Home, sounds like Marvellous Scenes.