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Drunk in Doncaster
1993 |
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jack mag home |
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There's no doubt about it, the prospect of a trip to Doncaster is certainly a treat to whet the appetite of any real football fan. With a half finished stadium, deserted terraces and a cutting wind, there's always a unique atmosphere here with the promise of some exceedingly average football in store. I travelled up with the erstwhile 1927 Club on an early train from London, and after several hours drinking copious amounts of the delightful Theakston's XB in the town, I can safely state that this afternoon proved to be the drunkest I've ever been at a football match. Naturally the details are all a little vague, but I recall falling into a tantric trance-like state very early in the game, mesmerised by the soothing strains of an 'Eddie, Eddie, Eddie May' chant which I continued to chant almost solo for the entire game. After a while my vision went a little blurry, not helped by having to peer through Doncaster's Stalag-like thick fencing, while the repetitive beats of my Cardiff Mantra give me a deep inner calm. We won 1-0 after someone scored, and this is some of the Cardiff fans getting a little over-excited at the end of the game. I think I was sick on the journey home. (urban75 wishes Doncaster a speedy return to the Third Division) |
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