It was ‘six bells’ on the Saturday mornin’
when mee mate Billy, who lived in the next street , knocked on mee front door. At forst aa did’nt
recognise him as he was sportin’ a brand new skinheed haircut, a pair of ‘Doc Marten’ steel
cappers and was wearin’ ‘his braces slack’ (as the aad song gans!) He looked a
reet ‘hard case’ and was the ‘forst kid on the block’ to join the new skinheed
craze that was sweepin’ the nation!
“Howway!”, he said,
twangin’ his new braces with his ‘tom plumbs’, “Wor Paul’s gannih give wi a
lift ower the Toon!”, he added, pointin’ towards an ‘old two tone banger’
parked ootside with it’s engine revvin’. (the ‘two tone’ bein’ manky blue and
rust!)
And so ‘it came to pass’ that me and mee
mate, ‘Billy The Hard Case' (as he was now known!)
travelled doon tih Wolves by supporters bus from Morden Street in the Haymarket.
It was Billy's 15th borthday and we were
convinced that the Toon would win easily and on the way doon, wih stopped off
at a motorway services for an hours break and heeded straight for the 'tool
shed' for a 'gypsies kiss' as we were ‘burstin’ by this time.
Bein' 'hard cases', (Er!---aa
was Billy’s ‘lieutenant’!) and after wi’d had wor ‘gypsies’, wih noticed that
aall the bogs were empty as aall the doors were ajar. (so wih thought!)
There were aboot six bogs in a row, so wih
decided tih kick aall the doors open, just for 'the shear hell of it!'.
Billy kicked the forst one with his new
'steel cappers' ---------the door hit the waall and nearly came off it's
hinges!.
Ah kicked the second door, and so on. Wih
got tih the last bog, and decided tih kick the door together.
Wih kicked it as hard as wih could and the
door swung back and wih heard a loud crack!--there
was a slight pause---and then there was a very loud high pitched
scream!---which went something like---"AAAAAAAARRRRRRRRHHHHHHH!!!!"
There for aall tih behold, was a gadgie
sittin' on the pan, gettin' a 'dynamite!', with his strides aroond his 'Hans
Crankels'.
He obviously had’nt locked the door
properly and he sat there holdin' his
'Vesta Tilly' in one hand, and his 'toon halls' in the other!.
He was in agony, an' wih just stood there,
'rooted tih the spot!'. and it did’nt take a genius to work oot that the edge of the bog door had
hit him in a very ‘delicate’ area!)
He was built like the brick s***hoose he was
sittin' in!, (very appropriate!) and
he had a face 'a dog would'nt lick'!
When
he'd regained his composure, he just 'eye-baalled' us!, torned 'bright red'
with rage!, (bog rage perhaps?) an' shouted at the top of his voice!-
"YER LITTLE BASTARDS!---I'LL KNOCK YER
F***** HEADS TOGETHER, WHEN I GET A HOLD OF YIZ!!!"
Ah just looked at Billy!-------and Billy
looked at me!-------
'PANIC
STATIONS!!!'---Luckily for us, he had'nt 'finished!', and
the fact that he still on ‘the pot’ with his troosers doon by his ankles meant
that he could’nt chase us!---SO! (az yi de!) wih 'legged it' as fast as wih
could tih the 'tool shed' entrance, pushin' each other oot the way, in the 'mad
scramble' tih try and get oot the door forst!.
Wih ran aroond the corner and hid behind
some rubbish bins, until it was time for the bus tih leave. Wih sneaked onto
the bus by the emergency exit, prayin' that he would'nt 'clock us', and---after
what seemed like an age, we eventually drove off---phew!---we were safe!.
Wih had a great laugh aboot it (and still
de!) and telt everybody on the bus what had happened, not mentionin' of course,
that wih ran off, scared oot wor wits!------after aall, we were 'hard
cases'---WERE'NT WE!?.
"THERE'S A FLY IN MEE PIE!"
An aad gadgie on the bus aged aboot thorty
five, gave Billy a pork pie. (when yih anly fourteen, thorty five IZ
aad!) As he was tekin' the second bite
oot of it, he noticed sommik black, baked in the middle.
The gadgie took one look and telt him it
looked like a deed fly which had met a horrible death by bein’ baked alive in
the pie!
This was too much for Billy, and he
promptly ‘hoyed up’ aall ower the back seat and doon the bus window!
(SO!---Just like his dodgy 'scabby
eye', his fifteenth borthday
celebrations, WOR'NT! ‘gannin' doon well’, eeetha!)
We arrived at Molineux aroond an hour
before the kick off, tih be 'greeted' by aboot 200 Wolves fans who were waitin’
to ambush the away coaches, and they charged at us doon the hill, next tih the
'South Bank End'.
So!---wih had
tih'leg it' again!. (It certainly keeps yih fit, bein' a Toon fan aa
thought!)
Wi'd arranged tih meet Billy's older
brother Alan, who lived doon there, and, as luck would have it, we were runnin'
in the reet direction, and bumped into him next tih the main entrance.
Wih quickly decided that the safest place
tih be, would be inside the groond, and headed for the turnstiles at the 'South
Bank'.
This end of Molineux was massive and was
aboot fower times the size of the 'North Bank' opposite, where the Wolves 'Kop'
was and we were telt that it held 30,000! (more than half the groonds
capacity!)
The 'Molineux Street Stand', tih the right,
had a multi-span roof and was a weird lookin' thing. It was twice the height at
one end than the other, and it looked lop-sided and ready tih faall doon!.
However, it was the Toon's defence that was
'lop-sided' and we were two-nowt doon by half time!. The second half was even
worse, and before lang we were fower -nowt doon, and Newcastle goalie Willie McFaul looked 'as sick
as a pig!'.
(So were we, Willie, so were we!)
Billy and Alan wanted tih gan, but aa
insisted on stayin' 'tih the bitter end', and mee 'loyalty' was rewarded, when
Wolves scored again, just before 'the death'.
NOT!, the result wi'd expected!,or the borthday
present that Billy had wanted!.
(Yih could say, 'we were thrown to the
Wolves'!) (sic!)
On the final whistle, wih heeded for Alan's
hoose for some 'tea and sympathy', before catchin' the bus yem, prayin' that
wih would'nt be stoppin' at the same motorway services on the way back!.
(JUST IN CASE!)
Aaltogether
now!
♫Mee
boots are Dr Martens, aa wear mee braces slack!♪
♪And if
aa eat a dodgy pie, aa’ll ‘hoy up’ at the back!♫♫
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