Читать книгу By George - Hilarious Tales from England's Most Fanatical Football Supporters - David Stanfield - Страница 12
ОглавлениеWe arrived back in Frankfurt and made our way to the campsite where we had started. We all got showered and changed and were just about to set off when Steve said, ‘Is that guy watching us? He’s been walking up and down that bank for ten minutes looking at us.’ A few of the lads approached this strange-looking guy and asked what he was up to.
The bloke watching us was a 23-year-old Bulgarian living in Frankfurt and he was infatuated with everything about England, especially the fans. He was very badly dressed with a shirt that was way too big for him and dodgy chino trousers on with trainers. His name was Michael. We asked Michael to join us for the evening but he said no as he hadn’t any money. We then offered to buy drinks for him, and he excitedly agreed. We went to walk into town as we’d always done, when Michael said, ‘Why don’t you take the Tube?’ We followed him around the corner and there it was; the Tube station. We all glanced at each other, especially me, Steve, Dave and Paul, but said nothing.
Once in Frankfurt square, Kev needed the toilet – big mistake, especially on your birthday. As he locked the door, we listened as he started pissing and then we all started kicking and rocking the portaloo to fuck with poor Kev in it. When he got out he had piss all down his trousers – the only reason we’d stopped was that the police thought that we were mindlessly vandalising the loo, but they just laughed when they heard that someone was in it.
After Kev and his Tardis incident, we went to the riverbank and the Brazilian bar. I asked Michael what he wanted and he said, ‘I don’t drink alcohol, could I have a Coke?’ I told him they didn’t sell Coke but they did do non-alcoholic cocktails. I got the barman to do a cocktail with orange in it – and alcohol, of course – and gave it to Michael. His eyes lit up, ‘That’s wunderbar,’ he said and quickly started sucking at the straw as if the drink was going out of fashion. Jimmy then said, ‘Michael, you can have mine – I don’t drink cocktails unless they’ve got alcohol in them.’ He gave Michael a lemony cocktail. This boy was drinking for Bulgaria and I was impressed. Dave left early as he had to pick his girlfriend up from Düsseldorf airport in the morning, leaving the rest of us to carry on the party with our new friend Michael…but where was Michael?
As I looked around, I spotted him lying face down with his arms and head hanging over the edge of the concrete bank. At first I thought he was throwing his guts up, but no. My new sidekick stood up holding a lilo in his hands and shouting, ‘Stan, I have found my bed for the evening!’ Then he proceeded to start imitating shagging movements on the lilo. The whole crowd, which was mainly English, were pissing themselves at the sight of this drunken little man from Bulgaria shagging a lilo.
Half hour later, whilst talking to my mate from West Ham, he said, ‘Stan, what’s your Bulgarian mate doing now?’ I looked and there was Michael walking slowly down the jetty, towards five swans in the river. ‘Michael, what the fuck are you doing?’ I shouted, ‘I am catching us dinner Stan, I will kill it for you!’ Bruce ran down and grabbed Michael, telling him he couldn’t kill a swan. Michael seemed quite disappointed and said sorry to me for not catching my dinner.
Michael had a few more drinks before the alcohol finally hit him. He sat down, closed his eyes and passed out. He’d only been unconscious for about ten minutes when this Irish prick walked up to him and poured a drink over his head. I charged at him and shoved him to the floor saying, ‘What the fuck do you think you’re doing?’ He got up and said he was only having a bit of fun. ‘OK,’ I said, ‘So you won’t mind if I have a bit of fun at your expense?’ I grabbed a nearby pint of lager and tipped it straight over his head. The twat just looked me in the eye, turned and walked off with his mates. As they walked away, all the English fans were singing. ‘One-nil to the England!’ and ‘No surrender to the IRA!’
I re-joined my mates who were all gathered around Michael with their trousers and pants down, mooning for photos with the now comatose Bulgarian, so I joined them. You can’t miss an opportunity to humiliate someone, can you? When the bars shut, I had an idea and the lads agreed. The idea was to take Michael to Cologne with us. We picked him up, got him in a taxi and took him back to the camper. ‘We’re all going to be up for kidnapping tomorrow when someone realises Michael’s gone missing,’ Steve said. I tried to reassure Steve, saying, ‘Technically it’s not kidnapping as he agreed to come out with us – we just forgot to tell him how long he’d be out with us for!’
I was still up and drinking when Dave got up at about 5am moaning about Lee, saying it was like lying next to ‘Spit the Dog’. Lee’s chest infection was worse and his breathing was like a constant barking sound. Dave jumped in his van and went off to get his girlfriend from the airport.
The hardest days were the ones where you had to drive to another city, and obviously it was even worse for the lads who were actually doing the driving. That morning seemed much easier than other journeys, though, as all the lads were in hysterics at the fact that we were setting off and with an unconscious Bulgarian asleep in the back of the camper. I could hardly speak, I was laughing so much as we drove further away from Frankfurt. We got to within about 30 miles of Cologne when Michael wearily opened his eyes. ‘How are you feeling, Michael?’ I said. ‘I feel terrible, Stan. I can’t remember going home last night.’ The boys were laughing hysterically. It was time to drop the bombshell. ‘You never went home, Michael; you’ve come with us to Cologne for the next England match!’ I sort of worded it like he’d agreed – well, I’m sure he would have if we’d actually asked him. ‘Stan, I cannot be in Cologne! I have an exam on Monday! I must be in Frankfurt!’ Michael said, which sent everybody into fits of laughter. Paul suggested we put him on the train when we reached Cologne, so we dropped him off at the station to make sure he got on the right train. Michael turned and said, ‘But Stan…I have no money!’ ‘Don’t worry about that, Michael – you’re an England fan and the deal is that while England are still in the World Cup all public transport is free!’ ‘Really? I have not heard of this…’ he replied. ‘Oh yes, Michael, we haven’t paid for anything yet!’ I told him. As we approached the guard checking tickets, I stopped and put on the top half of the George suit as a distraction. It worked and Michael got through without a ticket.
Before Michael left, he told us that we were the best friends he’d ever had and that he’d never forget us. As we waved Michael off, I felt a lump in my throat and as he went out of sight, I just couldn’t hold it in anymore and burst out laughing again.
