Plenty of tasty TEAR UPS in store next season

[BadFish]

Instead of just rejoicing about those those 'biting' on what admittedly could just be a wind up thread, how about questioning the mentality of the person masquerading as a hooligan throwback. Either way they need to get a life!

Are you one of those people that abuses actors in the street for something their character has done? The world is full of people masquerading as other things it is called entertainment. The lines between fantasy and reality are a little blurred for some i think.

 

[clapham_gull]

Surely gold ? It's up there with the White I-Pad thread.

 

[clapham_gull]

Instead of just rejoicing about those those 'biting' on what admittedly could just be a wind up thread, how about questioning the mentality of the person masquerading as a hooligan throwback. Either way they need to get a life!

Surely it's not that subtle ?

Caught me out in the past though, when he played a slightly more left wing role.

Do you write letters to the Daily Mail ?

 

[Silverhatch]

London Pompous, can you 'Ave a word' with Muzza's agent?

 

[patchamalbion]

after a few pints at the boozer this is perfect comedy gold to return to! i cannot comprehend how anyone could see this as anything but a joke but hey ho......plonker

 

[slinky]

to be honest, those who want to have a scrap, let them....

it wont be anywhere near the stadium, when you have places like stamner & wild park so close by..

they can all run off in the woods... the Neanderthals should feel at home there....

 

[stss30]

to be honest, those who want to have a scrap, let them....

it wont be anywhere near the stadium, when you have places like stamner & wild park so close by..

they can all run off in the woods... the Neanderthals should feel at home there....

 

[dannyboy]

Were gonna need a bigger boat

 

[TWOCHOICEStom]

Were gonna need a bigger boat

hahahahahahahahaha

 

[London Pompous]

You kids are all mouth and no trousers. Back in the day when there were only three TV channels all we had on a Saturday night was a choice between Blankety Blank, The Generation Game, Celebrity Shit in a Bucket and Game for a Laugh, it’s no wonder we turned to a bit of bifters before, during and after a match with those choices.

I remember in 1981 when we were due to play Palace at their gaff. It looked as if both teams were goin’ dahn from the top division, so we decided to have a final division one rumble. In those days there were no mobile phones, so we had to communicate via postcard, although Pete Longpockets and Squinty Joe (one of their top boys) from Palace had each other’s parole officers phone numbers. Pete and Joe had agreed how it was going to be decided, the weapons to be used on the day, and we were raring for action.

This was because both shared a cell after a joint shoplifting raid whilst on England duty (God Bless the Queen Mum) when Ron Greenwood’s boys turned over Luxembourg in 1979, but they were both caught with packs of Haribo down their Y-Fronts and were locked up for 14 days.

We knew we were going to be outnumbered going to Croydon, and in enemy territory. We decided to not wear the classy purple and pink Tacchini knockoff shellsuits we had bought from the Racecourse market, but instead went disguised as Palace fans, in Brutus Gold flares, cheesecloth shirts and Bay City Roller fanclub scarves wrapped round our wrists (Palace were always a bit behind the times, we were into proper music, such as Showaddywaddy and Boney M).

We knew that the Palace high command boozer was The Rectal Prolapse in Norbury High Street. Big Vern, Longpockets, Scratchcard, Uncle Morty and me loaded up the motor, we put the tools in the boot and stuck Guppy on the dashboard as a good luck charm. Diamond Dave was going to come too, but his mum insisted he do the washing up, otherwise it would have just like the Magnificent Seven, except with a 1974 Allegro instead of horses………….and big hats………and guns.

We drove up the A23 and M23, then into their territory, the dual carriageway turned to cobbled roads and then a dirt track as we got closer to Selhurst. We were looking out for ambushes, but the disguises worked, even when we needed supplies, and Scratchcard popped into one of their off licences, for half a dozen packets of pickled onion Monster Munch and a BIG bottle of Tizer, which we mixed with sherbert fountains to get the adrenaline flowing before the action started.

We parked around the corner from the Prolapse, still hadn’t been spotted, took out the tools, and went straight to the door. Palace hadn’t expected such balls from us, and were gobsmacked when we marched straight through to their main table, where their high command were in talks.

“We’re Brighton, and we’re here to teach you a lesson” I said. Jimmy The Poostripe, the Palace number 2, was the first to react. “What you cannt’s gonna do then”, he sneered. Respect to him, he didn’t move from his game of Asteroids, and it looked a half decent score to be honest.

“We’ve got the gear, it’s time to go toe to toe, our best pair against yours” , I said. “Awright you fuckin’ wankers, we’ll paste you and you’ll be home with mummy in an hour” he replied, “some of my boys have been in training for this for months, you don’t stand a chance. We’ll even give you first choice of tools”.

You could have cut the silence with a plastic knife from the Little Chef. Even the publican stopped cleaning the glasses with his spit as our first team of Big Vern and Morty sat down opposite Sicknote and Dodgy Dave, a Palace pair who had a big rep in the In The Know circles.

“Let’s see what you’ve got then” said Dave, “Get the drinks in first before we get stuck in”. A hush took over the pub as a barmaid brought four Diet Irn Bru shots to the table, the lads knocked them back as if they were soft drinks, and sat facing each other, unblinking, glaring, sizing each other up. The Rumble in the Jungle between Ali and Foreman had nothing on this.

Longpockets opened up our sack of tools, and brought out Cluedo. There was a gasp in the audience, they’d been expecting us to lead with Mousetrap, and were clearly wrongfooted. Half an hour later, Uncle Morty sat victorious, having identified Professor Plum, in the outside toilet (we’d even gone to the trouble of buying the Croydon version of Cluedo) and the iron pipe. Palace were one down and they knew it.

It was over to them. Respect to their boys, they brought out the big guns next, but we were whipping their arses until Big Vern landed on Trafalgar Square with four houses and we blew out. One-one, it was down to the final scrap.

After a quick rock, paper, scissors between the two top boys it was Palace’s choice. Beads of sweat formed as we didn’t know what they would bring out, Palace looked confident as their colonel, Johnny Threeinches, revealed Buckaroo.

We knew we were up against it as he had twice been European champion, and had even appeared with Norris McWhirter on Record Breakers after beating the Belgian World Champion, Pierre Quierre, in a blind face-off in 1979.

What happened next? You want the details, too terrifying for you squeamish scarfers I’m afraid. You had to have been there, those in the know know, suffice to say that Scratchcard’s name became legend that day, and even Palace know that no one messes with HACC.

God Bless the Queen Mum.

 

[The Merry Prankster]

"even bought the Croydon version" ha ha ha lola.

 

[The Spanish]

Respect to him, he didnt move from his game of Asteroids, and it looked a half decent score to be honest.

probably the funniest thing i have ever read on here, that line.

 

[Seagull Steve]

Absolute comedy genius.

 

[Commander]

You kids are all mouth and no trousers. Back in the day when there were only three TV channels all we had on a Saturday night was a choice between Blankety Blank, The Generation Game, Celebrity Shit in a Bucket and Game for a Laugh, it’s no wonder we turned to a bit of bifters before, during and after a match with those choices.

I remember in 1981 when we were due to play Palace at their gaff. It looked as if both teams were goin’ dahn from the top division, so we decided to have a final division one rumble. In those days there were no mobile phones, so we had to communicate via postcard, although Pete Longpockets and Squinty Joe (one of their top boys) from Palace had each other’s parole officers phone numbers. Pete and Joe had agreed how it was going to be decided, the weapons to be used on the day, and we were raring for action.

This was because both shared a cell after a joint shoplifting raid whilst on England duty (God Bless the Queen Mum) when Ron Greenwood’s boys turned over Luxembourg in 1979, but they were both caught with packs of Haribo down their Y-Fronts and were locked up for 14 days.

We knew we were going to be outnumbered going to Croydon, and in enemy territory. We decided to not wear the classy purple and pink Tacchini knockoff shellsuits we had bought from the Racecourse market, but instead went disguised as Palace fans, in Brutus Gold flares, cheesecloth shirts and Bay City Roller fanclub scarves wrapped round our wrists (Palace were always a bit behind the times, we were into proper music, such as Showaddywaddy and Boney M).

We knew that the Palace high command boozer was The Rectal Prolapse in Norbury High Street. Big Vern, Longpockets, Scratchcard, Uncle Morty and me loaded up the motor, we put the tools in the boot and stuck Guppy on the dashboard as a good luck charm. Diamond Dave was going to come too, but his mum insisted he do the washing up, otherwise it would have just like the Magnificent Seven, except with a 1974 Allegro instead of horses………….and big hats………and guns.

We drove up the A23 and M23, then into their territory, the dual carriageway turned to cobbled roads and then a dirt track as we got closer to Selhurst. We were looking out for ambushes, but the disguises worked, even when we needed supplies, and Scratchcard popped into one of their off licences, for half a dozen packets of pickled onion Monster Munch and a BIG bottle of Tizer, which we mixed with sherbert fountains to get the adrenaline flowing before the action started.

We parked around the corner from the Prolapse, still hadn’t been spotted, took out the tools, and went straight to the door. Palace hadn’t expected such balls from us, and were gobsmacked when we marched straight through to their main table, where their high command were in talks.

“We’re Brighton, and we’re here to teach you a lesson” I said. Jimmy The Poostripe, the Palace number 2, was the first to react. “What you cannt’s gonna do then”, he sneered. Respect to him, he didn’t move from his game of Asteroids, and it looked a half decent score to be honest.

“We’ve got the gear, it’s time to go toe to toe, our best pair against yours” , I said. “Awright you fuckin’ wankers, we’ll paste you and you’ll be home with mummy in an hour” he replied, “some of my boys have been in training for this for months, you don’t stand a chance. We’ll even give you first choice of tools”.

You could have cut the silence with a plastic knife from the Little Chef. Even the publican stopped cleaning the glasses with his spit as our first team of Big Vern and Morty sat down opposite Sicknote and Dodgy Dave, a Palace pair who had a big rep in the In The Know circles.

“Let’s see what you’ve got then” said Dave, “Get the drinks in first before we get stuck in”. A hush took over the pub as a barmaid brought four Diet Irn Bru shots to the table, the lads knocked them back as if they were soft drinks, and sat facing each other, unblinking, glaring, sizing each other up. The Rumble in the Jungle between Ali and Foreman had nothing on this.

Longpockets opened up our sack of tools, and brought out Cluedo. There was a gasp in the audience, they’d been expecting us to lead with Mousetrap, and were clearly wrongfooted. Half an hour later, Uncle Morty sat victorious, having identified Professor Plum, in the outside toilet (we’d even gone to the trouble of buying the Croydon version of Cluedo) and the iron pipe. Palace were one down and they knew it.

It was over to them. Respect to their boys, they brought out the big guns next, but we were whipping their arses until Big Vern landed on Trafalgar Square with four houses and we blew out. One-one, it was down to the final scrap.

After a quick rock, paper, scissors between the two top boys it was Palace’s choice. Beads of sweat formed as we didn’t know what they would bring out, Palace looked confident as their colonel, Johnny Threeinches, revealed Buckaroo.

We knew we were up against it as he had twice been European champion, and had even appeared with Norris McWhirter on Record Breakers after beating the Belgian World Champion, Pierre Quierre, in a blind face-off in 1979.

What happened next? You want the details, too terrifying for you squeamish scarfers I’m afraid. You had to have been there, those in the know know, suffice to say that Scratchcard’s name became legend that day, and even Palace know that no one messes with HACC.

God Bless the Queen Mum.

You make me sick, people like you have nothing to do with football, I thought this kind of thing had stopped when we left the dark days of the 70's and 80's.

 

[Deleted member 18477]

After a quick rock, paper, scissors between the two top boys it was Palace’s choice. Beads of sweat formed as we didn’t know what they would bring out, Palace looked confident as their colonel, Johnny Threeinches, revealed Buckaroo.

Buckaroo. Top game. Top boy!

 

[Return of the Rev]

You make me sick, people like you have nothing to do with football, I thought this kind of thing had stopped when we left the dark days of the 70's and 80's.

To be fair the hooligan blight kept the ticket prices down and plenty of availability back in the day!

 

[Return of the Rev]

Also kept the women at home F TROOP OR GULLYS GIRLS HARD CHOICE

 

[Seagull27]

This HAS to be NSC GOLD

 

[El Presidente]

I'm sure we will 'own' Watford and not be seen at Pompey as usual.

 

[fataddick]

Just to be clear, do you actually think London Pompous is a serious account?

Have I been had? At first I thought Pompous was kosher. He mentioned Longpockets, who was one of the known Brighton boys in the early 80s. But the more Pompous posts, the more I think he's a fantasist (ie bullshit artist, scuse my French). He probably only knows about Longpockets from reading about him in a Cass Pennant book or something. As for his latest post, no f***ing way would Albion and Palace firms settle a score over a game of Cluedo. With a game of punch poker (like strip poker, but with punching instead of stripping) maybe, but even that's pushing it.

So this is me calling you out, Pompous. Prove to me you're kosher. Answer me these five questions that anyone who was active on the early 80s scene would know. No Googling or asking a toughnut friend. Get 'em right I'll admit I was wrong. Get them wrong and everyone one on here will know you wasn't there, and you're just trying to big yourself up to get some respect and gash that you don't deserve.

1. How many times did Blackburn get run at Ewood Park in the 83-84 season?
2. What did Bam Bam from the Hullbellies end up getting sent down for?
3. How did Freddie Foureyes of Oxford's Biscuitshitter Crew lose one of his (actual) eyes?
4. What's a 'Grimsby smile'?
5. What sort of people were banned from joining Walsall's 8.53 To New Street Firm?