|
|
31/8/02
What a load of shit. Thats all I can say really.We entered the pub at 11:30, to find Townsend was already in there, losing to himself at pool.
Immediatly, Cheggers walks up to the bar, and orders 6 pints. I could see it was going to be a long day...
12:00 comes and more of the BVC arrive in the pub. The number was at 9 now, and a record BVC turnout for this season was on the cards. By now Cheggers had drunk at least 10 pints.
The biggest shock of the day wasnt the result, no, it was the fact that Hibbert had actually turned up for a match! The offer of a cheap ticket was too much for the number one Mansfield job centre user to turn down. I bet he wishes he had...
As Townsend took out his aggression on the pool table, me and Pete decided a trip to Macadee's was called for. Upon returning to the pub, more BVC had turned up. 11 now, and still rising. (21 if you count Piggy as 10) The Queens Head make more money out of us lot every weekend than they do for the rest of the week! (especially with Cheggers, he must make them half of their profit alone!)
At 1:40, and many beers later, the BVC decide on a trip to the Early Doors. We set off from the Queens Head, and head towards the Railway Inn.
After dragging some of the alcoholic away from the Inn, we make our way towards the bridge, only to see that it is still closed. Some of the BVC climb over the fence to get onto the bridge (more than a few beers had been downed by then by all), and some of the more drunk BVC tried kicking the fence down, to no avail. The 'plump' members of the BVC went round the long way, in fear of:
a) getting exersise
b)the bridge collapsing
Upon getting to about the north stand, we realise a large section of the BVC had gone missing. We then saw piggy's belly come round the corner, so we are back to full numbers again.
We make our way to the Early Doors, and have a 'few' in there.We get to the ground at 2:50.
When we get into the ground and into match watching positions. Immediatly, new BVC member Townsend gets some songs started.
The match kicks off, and we get into full voice. The match starts lively, with chances at either end. Then they score, another set piece I think.
I won't mention much about the match, my psychiatrist advised me to block the event out of my mind.
Another one goes in, and then another one. It was like watching the shit from the other side of the M1.
Half time comes, 3-0 to them. Boo's around the ground as the players come off, except for us and a few others. Second half comes, and before we know it, it is 5-0. Yes, we were 5-0 down at fucking home. We were pinching ourselves to make sure it was real. Surely it must be a dream.
At 5-0 down, the BVC were the only ones still singing. Stupid songs, ridiculous songs, anything to block the fact out of our minds that we were losing 5 fucking 0.
We are losing 5-0. We are playing shite, and we are getting taunted by the away fans. It couldnt get worse. Or could it?
Yes it could, as a steward on a power trip came up to the already unhappy BVC, and told us to sit down. It was not the best thing to do. After trying to reason with the steward, nicely I must admit, he said something in the region of "sit down and shut the fuck up or i'll have you all kicked out and banned". Once again, this was definately not the best thing to say. After being very polite to him, one BVC member quietly pointed out to the toothless steward, "look here, we have tried being nice about it, if you don't shut the fuck up, i'd be worried about the rest of your teeth."
He went away, very quickly.
A few minutes pass, and another steward comes strolling up the stairs. Yes, the toothless cunt of a steward had sent the woman to do his dirty work for him. After giving her some stick, one BVC member remarked, "can I have your phone number love?!" She didnt take it too well, and informed us that the toothless cunt as we put it was actually her husband. Oops. Bet he's mightily pissed off now.... hahaha.
The match ends, and we are still singing. We leave the ground, and head towards the Queens Head to drown our sorrows. On the way, we take the piss out of passing Crewe fans. "You're shite, you only won 5 fucking nil. Get it sorted!"
Most of the BVC went back to the pub, but for me, Piggy and Hibbert, it was too depressing to even think about. We went home, wondering if it'd be 8-0 or 9-0 vs QPR. Whatever the score, the BVC will be there, home and away.
Crew Overview
Ben-Didnt stop singing, lost his voice, but still got his voice heard by the toothless steward!
Paolo-Got some songs started, and was still singing when we were 5-0 down.
Cheggers-The main BVC alcoholic was surprisingly quiet in the second half, just kept mentioning Dearden under his breath.
Townsend-First match as a BVC member, was very enthusiastic, got loads of songs started, but got very aggressive with the QH pool table...
Snowy-Was load as usual. Still looks like Harry Potter though...
Rob-Rob was his usual immature self. He acts like a 2 year old, but is still a good laugh.
Les-Obsessed with getting his picture on the site. Trying to impress the ladies I think.
YD-His sprint from Woodhouse to Mansfield deserves an olympic call up. Was unusually quiet in the ground.
YD Jr-Obsessed with trying to get some beer off Ben in the QH. These bloody underage alcoholics eh...
Piggy-Piggy was very depressed with the result, after all, he had no wins to pick up from his favourite place, the bookies.
Pete-Still obsessed with nicking a boat, he was also wanting a shag of the spotty fat cow behind the counter in Macadees.
Hibbert-Yes, the shock of the day was not on thepitch but off it, as Hibbert actually turning up to the game was more shocking than the actual scoreline!
Tucker-Had apparently come back off leave from the army to watch the Stags play. I bet he wishes he hadnt!!! Guest of Townsend, possible new member.