Tall tales
By Pete Fincham
Fuzzy had just signed for Chelsea, enabling us to re-build the Rookery, and as neither of us had had an opportunity to say goodbye, myself and Tom decided to go and cheer him on against Viktoria Zizkov. For £10 we had fine seats in the wet Shed, behind the goal and cheering only for Furlong and he didn't disappoint! Within two minutes he had put the ball into the net and went onto score a brace. The game finished 4-2 and Chelsea went onto the semi-finals that year. What was totally confusing about this game was this was the first time I walked in a cub and came out a lion!
Basically the game was not bad, but the crowd were diabolical. No singing, no chanting...you'd have thought the match was a pre-season friendly against Kingstonian for all the noise that was generated. Tom and myself decided that enough was enough and, even though we were Hornets, it was time to get that Blue Flag flying high!
By the second half people had started to warm to us and we had got a right little party going. Singing, chanting. Lovely! By the end of the game a load of their lads came up and asked where we normally sat. We had to come clean as any bullshit would have been rumbled straight away. We were Hornets, come to cheer on Furlong and we just got carried away.
This started a massive row....not between them and us, but between themselves.
"See, I told you our fans were shit, bunch of wankers. No one ever sings here!"
"Bollocks, it's just raining that's all, what do they know?"
We left...quickly!
Thought: As Withnail said, "We're not from London!"
