Old Gunners and Gooners : European Tour Begins.

George, my brother, died 6 years ago today.
He was responsible for introducing me to “The Arsenal” in 1957.
Thanks to him, I’ve enjoyed so many great times, and a few bad ones, following this great club over the last 63 years.
He now has a memorial brick at the Emirates, as a permanent reminder of his support for Arsenal.

George & Me - Paris 1995.

Season 1993 - 94.

The Last Charity Shield game for me.

David Seaman misses a penalty against Man Utd & laughs.

I wasn’t laughing!!!

League.

The New North Bank stand is opened.

Arsenal lose 3-0 at Highbury on the opening day of the season.

Arsenal then won 1-0 at the Lane, to resume normal service.

Arsenal eventually finished 4th.

David O’Leary retired.

Colin Pates was transferred.

Eddie McGoldrick came in.

League (Coca Cola) Cup.

I travelled to Huddersfield with JC to see Arsenal win 5-0 in the 2nd Round 1st Leg.

This game was especially memorable for me, because JC had actually got tickets in the Arsenal End.

Surprise, I’m Actually sitting with Arsenal Fans.

Arsenal drew the 2nd Leg 1-1 and then knocked out Norwich before losing 1-0 to Aston Villa at Highbury in the 4th Round.

FA Cup.

Arsenal beat Millwall at the New Den with a last minute goal in the 3rd Round.

This started a mini riot, as if they needed an excuse, outside after the game. Spooky, Teddy Taylor and myself were herded, by the police, towards Surrey Quays station, along with most other Arsenal Fans.

No big deal, except, we’d parked nearer Peckham. So we slipped out of the crowd and had to walk through a housing estate that was straight out of a “Charles Dickens” novel. I swear it had gaslights.

We eventually got back to JC’s pub for last orders.

Millwall ticket.

In the 4th Round Arsenal drew at Bolton and then lost 3-1 at Highbury.

Now that we weren’t going to retain either of the cups in that we’d won last season, it was all down to having a good try at winning the European Cup Winners Cup.

European Tour Begins.

In the 1st Round Arsenal beat Odense 3-2 on aggregate.

Liege.

After beating Standard Liege at Highbury 3-0 in the 2nd Round 1st Leg, the 2 Hoyboys, Putney and myself decide to drive to Liege for the 2nd Leg.

Apart from winning 7-0, this night is memorable for one incident, namely, the “Curly Whirly Turd” that mysteriously appeared on a toilet seat.

Just before half time I’d gone for a piss. The toilets were very basic, a single metal urinal trough and 3 closets. While I’m having a piss, I hear someone loudly swearing, I look around and the closet doors are open and I can see that the toilets are full to the brim with shit.

They, obviously, hadn’t been cleaned since the game before, at the weekend.

I go back to my seat and relate the story to the others.

At half time, Hoyboy states that he needs a shit and goes off with his son.

About 20 minutes later he returns, with a big smile on his face.

He remarks that the toilets were as bad as I’d said and suggests that Putney should have a look.

When we were ready to leave, we decide to have a piss before going back to the car.

So we go to the toilets and someone is trying to get a wheelchair bound person into one of the closets. As they open the closet door, we can see that a large turd has been deposited on the closed seat lid by a previous occupant.

I will leave you to decide who that previous occupant was.

I just know that it wasn’t Putney or me.

Standard Liege.

ECWCup - Match Ticket.

The teams are on the pitch - I hope they don’t need a toilet.

Referee!!!

One day I get a phone call from JC, telling me that the next night his son is playing for Tooting & Mitcham at a non league ground near me.

I arrange to meet JC at the game, behind the dugout. I arrive 10 minutes after kickoff, due to the weather and traffic. There’s no sign of JC on the terrace or Young Johnny on the pitch.

After about another 5 minutes JC turns up, moaning about the traffic.

He’s moaning even more, when I tell him his son ain’t playing.

So he leans over the fence and asks the Tooting manager “where’s Johnny?”

He comes back moaning again, even louder this time and tells me “the soppy bastard got sent off for kicking the opposition goalie after 5 minutes”.

It’s now pouring with rain and everyone has either got an umbrella or their coat hoods up.

Later in the game, JC, incredibly, somehow spots, one of the League’s top referees, Alf Buksh, standing a few steps in front of us.

That’s the last straw. The kettle has now boiled, steam is coming out of JC’s head.

This is the referee who disallowed a perfectly good goal by Paul Merson at the Lane, a few seasons previously.

At the Lane.

On that occasion, JC had told me he’d got 2 tickets, in the players family section, for the game at the Lane from Teddy Sheringham, who he’d known since Sheringham was a kid.

I declined the offer saying that we’d probably both get arrested sitting amongst their fans.

JC insisted it would be ok as we’re sensible blokes.

I wasn’t having any of it, as I know how passion takes over in these games.

What happens?, JC goes on his own, Alf Buksh denies “Merse” his penalty.

JC loses his temper.

Their fans start abusing him.

The police are called and threaten to eject him if he doesn’t stop swearing.

JC’s response? He shouts at the coppers, Carry me out!!, Carry me out!!

They carry him out.

After the game, Teddy Sheringham arrives in the players lounge and asks where his guest is?

An official tells him, “Your guest was escorted from the stadium” earlier.

Back to Alf Buksh.

With steam still coming off his head, JC starts berating Alf about the disallowed penalty and Alf can’t believe he’s been recognised and mumbles, “you Arsenal Fans never leave off about that, do you?”.

JC ends the conversation by telling Alf, that he’s the worst referee he’s ever seen.

Don’t you just love JC?

Torino.

Some of us travel, on the day before, to the game against Torino in the ECWCup.

For some unknown reason our hotel is in Milan.

On arriving we decide to visit the San Siro stadium, home of Inter and AC Milan.

On matchday a coach picks us up and we’re taken straight to the Delle Alpi stadium that Torino share with Juventus.

Back in the 80’s, it was suggested Arsenal could share a stadium with the team from the Lane.

Apparently their fans agreed, but Arsenal Fans said, NEVER!!

At the San Siro - Milan.

As we’re walking to the stadium, Spooky notices a burger stall and we grab one each. Stupidly, I ask for Sauerkraut on mine and this almost has disastrous consequences later.

When we’re queuing up to get into the ground, the police are confiscating trouser belts and cigarette lighters from Arsenal Fans.

Ridiculous, because when we finally get in, there’s giant red flares being held up by Torino fans.

Match ticket.

Fancy a Burger?

Police never took their cigarette lighters.

They took their cigarette lighters but not the flags.

Before the Bubble Bursts.

Arsenal drew with Torino 0-0. Then won the 2nd Leg 1-0.

Arsenal now progressed to the semifinal against PSG.

Bubble!!

About halfway through the 2nd half of this game I get a weird sensation in my stomach and what feels like a large bubble starts winding its way through my intestines.

The Sauerkraut is having some effect.

I said to Spooky “I’ve got this bubble moving through my guts and I hope it’s a fart and not a turd”

He’s quietly chuckling away to himself, when the bubble reaches the departure lounge.

Phuutt!! It’s out, thank goodness it’s only a silent but incredibly deadly, fart.

Moments later, Teddy Taylor, who was standing immediately behind me, is covering his nose and mouth with his hands, screaming “what’s that fucking smell?”

Spooky is in hysterics and I say that I can’t smell anything.

By now, anyone within about 5 metres of us is spluttering and moving further away, even the Italian police.

Needless to say, I’ve never eaten Sauerkraut again, although it still wasn’t as bad as the turd left on the toilet seat lid, in Liege, by somebody else.

We love Paris in the Springtime.

Putney hired a coach for us to go to see Arsenal play PSG in the semifinal 1st Leg in Paris.

As tickets were hard to come by, even for Arsenal Season Ticket holders, Putney also arranged, for someone at his company’s Paris office, to get our match tickets as well.

Obviously, these tickets were on the opposite side of the stadium to where the Arsenal Fans section was.

I have to admit that JC definitely had no involvement with getting these tickets.

Two of the “4 Wheels” boys had previously asked me if we were having a night out in Paris?

When I, mischievously, told them we’d be going clubbing, they turned up in their best clothes.

They weren’t happy when they realised that I’d been having them on.

After the usual drinking session in the afternoon, we made our way to the stadium.

As we were walking through the subway passages, someone noticed a beggar who had a remarkable resemblance to JC.

Say Fromage!!

Clubbing? - Note the 2 in the front wearing trousers.

As you can imagine, we all started singing “there’s only 2 Johnny Collins”.

JC was not amused and refused my request to have his photo taken with his new twin brother.

This only made us sing louder and longer.

When we come out of the subway at the stadium, it’s just like the old days. PSG fans are gathered looking for a fight with any Arsenal Fans they can find.

We bunch up together and walk straight through them, I think they thought we were too old to bother with.

Anyway, nothing happened, although there was some serious trouble elsewhere, with some Arsenal Fans even being locked up, in an empty warehouse, by the police.

When we get to the stadium entrance, the officials start panicking, because they’ve got 20 Arsenal Fans with tickets for the Main stand, where they shouldn’t be.

We get escorted to our seats by policemen carrying machine guns.

When they leave us, we go out to the concourse for a beer and a few minutes later, Brian Moore, the television commentator walks past, saying Hello.

I give him a couple of minutes and then Tony A and me follow him and climb up the ladder into the television gantry for a photo.

Once he’d got over the initial shock of seeing us up there, Brian was as good as gold.