For this blog post I’d like to rewind the clocks to late 2013. I’d like to tell the tale of when Ed and I became devoted Sydney FC fans.
Before I divulge the story I’d just like to point out that my actions are not
routine at all football games that I attend, they were a one-off. OK, maybe a
two-off.
Sydney FC vs. Newcastle United Jets FC
Allianz Arena
30th November, 2013
One sunny day in Sydney, Ed and I were talking and we
decided that we would take in a football match while I was visiting him. Ed
looked up the details on his phone and found out that Sydney FC were playing at
home that Saturday evening against Newcastle Jets. We came up with a loose plan,
meet up in Bondi for a cheeky few schooners, get the bus to the game, enjoy the
delights of the A-League, and then head into Sydney city centre for a night on
the tiles. Sorted.
The big day came around and everything was going to plan
very smoothly, we got to the game and the first thing I noticed was the army of
Del Piero fans. Every man and his dog had the latest sky blue Sydney shirt with
Del Piero 10 printed on their backs. We paid the incredible sum of $15 for our
tickets and even managed to use a buy one get one free coupon, try pitching
that idea to the Premier League! We got there about an hour before kick-off and
enjoyed a few beers pitch side, try pitching that idea to the Premier League!
The line-ups were announced and the two stellar names of the
day were Alessandro Del Piero of Sydney FC and Emile Heskey of Newcastle United
Jets. Emile Heskey has never been described as a stellar name, there were also
another 20 names announced but they could have been the water boys for all I
know. The standard was acceptable, and
the Allianz Stadium was half empty but the atmosphere was surprisingly good.
The Sydney Ultras really make an effort, a few guys with megaphones getting the
chants started it was rather enjoyable. In injury time in the second half
Sydney took the lead, the celebrations started amongst the fans and it rained
down beer from the overly excited Aussies. Wonderful. Half time came around and
it was time to get more beer. The second half got underway and we didn’t have
to wait long for Sydney to double their lead, the same delirious frolicking
occurred, I even joined in with a bit of beer throwing myself. At one stage a brave foreign lad did an impressive pitch invasion and I managed to capture all of it!
The game
finished 2-0 and it was time to head into the city. We tried to get the bus but they were full. We tried to hail
a cab but the traffic was too intense so we opted to walk. Following the crowds
and not entirely sure where we were heading we got a bit lost, we stopped to
work out some kind of direction, not too easy when you’ve been drinking since
the early afternoon. To lubricate the cogs in our brains we thought it would be
a good idea to get a bottle of wine for the journey, brown paper baggin’ it. We
continued to walk and somehow ended up in a residential area and as we walked
we passed a house party with the front door wide open. I said to Ed “shall we
go in?” As if I had to ask. We cautiously entered and we were immediately
approached by a guy who suspiciously asked “can I help you?” Confidently I
replied “Yeah, we’re here for the party. Charlotte invited us.” Unconvinced he
said “there’s no one here called Charlotte”. Sometimes (not often) honesty is
the best policy, we came clean “OK, you caught us. We were just passing and
were wondering if we could stop here for a few drinks, we’ve brought wine” as
we showed him the half bottle of wine that we’d already been swigging. To our
amazement he said “Oh right, sure! Come on in, there are drinks in the kitchen.
Help yourselves!” What?! We’ve crashed a party hosted by the nicest people in
the world. There was Belvedere Vodka, champagne, beer, we’d hit the jackpot!
We noticed that it was Santa Clause themed fancy dress party
so we made a small effort by putting some tinsel around our necks. We started
to mingle. Everyone was really friendly, nice people, fun conversations; we
were having a great time. A Scottish girl approached us she’d got wind that
there were two gate crashing Brits at the party. After a few pleasantries she
asked us very bluntly “So, are you two gay?” Excuse me?! We informed her that
we are not gay but were curious as to why she’d ask such a question. To which
she replied “Because, you’re at a gay party”. We looked around us at the people
that we’d been talking to for the last hour and it was so obviously a gay party
but neither of us had noticed. I turned to Ed and said “Ed mate, we’re at a gay
party!” The Scottish girl could not stop laughing, the tears rolled down her
cheeks as we stood embarrassed at how oblivious we’d been. We’d crashed a party
full of gay Santas and didn’t realise. I did say everyone was very friendly
towards us and now we knew why!
We stayed at the party, carried on drinking and had a really
good night. We thought it would be a good idea to explore the rest of the house
(I don’t know why). So we grabbed a bottle of Belvedere and went upstairs
(honestly, we’re not gay). There wasn’t anything interesting but Ed decided
that this was the prime time to go to the toilet, I waited for him. The guys
hosting the party discovered me alone in one of the bedrooms and an
interrogation began. They asked where my friend was, I said he’s having a shit.
They weren’t happy and said it was time for us to leave; I knocked on the
toilet door and told Ed to hurry up. So not only did we gate crash a party full
of gay Santas, we were also kicked out of a party full of gay Santas. We never
made it out in Sydney.
Central Coast Mariners FC vs. Sydney FC
Bluetongue Stadium
7th December, 2013
The week before, during the game against Newcastle United
Jets we got chatting to an eccentric Sydney fan who told us about the game the
following week against Central Coast Mariners. Only an hour away on the train,
there would be a good following from Sydney, so we decided to go. We had become
fully dedicated Sydney fans and we were going to our first away game. Loyal.
Another loose plan was instigated, meet up for a few beers,
get the train to Gosford (bogan country (bogans are Australian chavs)), have a
few more beers, go to the game, head back to Sydney, and have a night on the
tiles. The train only took an hour and cost less than a round of beers, which
only infuriates you more to realise how much the Brits are getting ripped off
for their own rail transport system.
Upon arrival we decided to try to keep the cost of the day down
and opted for the finest, largest, cheapest bottle of wine available at the
first bottle shop that we came across. So where to drink such a marvellous classic?
Well, the park next to the ground, obviously. After nearly getting caught by
the patrolling police officers, we finished the bottle made our way into the
ground collecting a few beers in the concourse.
In our seats and amongst a large following of away fans, the
stadium was very different to all those I’d attended in the past. It has only 3
stands, one of the ends is open which has a fantastic view of palm trees and
Fagan’s Bay, I’m used to terrace houses and council flats.
But anyway, the game
kicked off, the chants were reverberating within the stand and the wine was
having the desired effect. About 20 minutes in and the game was rather boring,
no score, no drama, no quality. All of a sudden there was some commotion
amongst the away support, it was getting rowdy. One fan stood up, took off his
jacket to reveal a Central Coast Mariners shirt, he revelled in the boos and
the hostility from the many travelling fans. In the heat of the moment the wine
took over, I thought back to the week before and reached for a liquid missile. Despite
being rather merry I still had the sense not to waste my own beer and reached
for the beer that belonged to the guy sitting in front of me. I pulled it
through the smallest of gaps and launched it down the stand in the direction of
the rebellious home supporter; it covered him and everyone around him. Bad idea. Everyone was livid; people were
coming up to shouting in my face, asking why I’d do such a thing. I thought
that was the norm. I was wrong. What I didn’t notice was that there were
a patrol of policemen in the tier above us that were watching the away fans the
way that Wayne Rooney would eye up a retirement home. Straight away the three
policemen (yeah, three!) were down and kicking me out, a welcomed eviction
considering the hassle I was getting from the hostile fans. In the concourse
and I reluctantly asked if I could finish my beers before I left and
surprisingly they said yes. Despite being a dickhead even the policemen don’t
like to see wasted beer. I was out, and what’s worse was that Ed followed me. I’d
ruined his day and he hadn’t done anything wrong.
I apologised repeatedly to Ed and suggested heading back to
Sydney, Ed with little urgency said “the best thing we can do now is get
another bottle of wine and think about what we’re going to do next”. That’s a
fantastic idea; it wasn’t like alcohol had got us in that situation in the
first place. So with the cheapest bottle of white we could get our drunk hands
on we sat by the bay pondering our next move.
Ed suggested trying to get back
into the game stating to a steward that we were late arriving. This was not a
good idea, the police had taken a copy of my I.D. and told me not to even try
getting back in but having polished off the wine it seemed like a good idea. It
was half time and we thought we’d try our luck. Acting sober we walked back to
the ground, we approached a speccy steward, explained that we were late,
flashed our tickets and we were in. We were back in the game! Keeping our heads
down we thought we’d find a quiet spot in the family stand and just enjoy the
rest of the game.
That’s a lot more difficult that it sounds when you’re inebriated.
Making a loud spectacle of ourselves we were rowdy, cursed, chanted, and did
the opposite of keeping our heads down. I’d like to take this opportunity to apologise
to all the respectable people sat around us who had to tolerate our dickhead
behaviour for 45 minutes.
I filmed a lot of our foolish behaviour.
Ed tried to get a chant started and failed hilariously.
In this final video I interview Ed for 15 minutes. If you
know Ed or I at all you may find it remotely funny, otherwise we’re just two
pillocks that got drunk at a football match.
The game finished and Central Coast Mariners won the game
1-0. We left the stadium and joined in a children’s match outside the ground,
we were playing with 5-10 year olds. What kind of parents let their children
play football with two drunk, possible paedophiles? It went on for so long I
started touching and filming the children just to get a reaction. Bad
parenting. We headed back to the station and decided it was about time to get a
third bottle of wine and a couple of kebabs, always a good sign. Wine in hand
and waiting for the kebabs we started talking to the locals and asked when the
last train back to Sydney was, they laughed and said “in about 4 minutes mate!”
We hassled the staff to hurry up with the kebabs (obviously we couldn’t just
leave without them), and sprinted to the station. Down the stairs, onto the
platform, and within touching distance the doors closed and the train departed.
The next train – a 7 hour wait. What else to do other than finish the wine, eat
the kebabs, go back into town and find a place to party bogan style. We did
just that, the rest of the night was a bit of a blur, one of the few memories
was being kicked out of a terrible club because Ed was dancing on a table.
The night before never seems worth it when you’re still
awake at 7am, hungover, and waiting for a train. My experiences of following Sydney
FC were certainly unique and interesting and I doubt they’ll ever be
replicated. Since then Ed and I have agreed never go to the football together
again.
