Ourselves and others, required the train, so with a police escort in tow, about a hundred of us were herded down to the station. Naturally, the Newcastle boy’s brigade were waiting with a few bottles and stones before lobbing them in our direction. Both us and the old bill escort had to play dodgems half of the way back to the safety of the train station. Or so my brother and I had thought…
We needed the Boro platform, the opposite side to the London bound trains As we walked onto our platform, the West Ham fans, aggravated by the walk back to the station, concluded that the blokes on the opposite platform must be Geordies and that they were gonna be getting payback.
One bottle landed on the platform, followed by another, then another, and on and on it went. The only safe place for my brother and I, with a handful of genuine Newcastle fans, was in the smoking-room on the platform.
As we took refuge from our own effing fans, the locals that were with us weren’t happy, cussing the cockney bastards, and declaring if there was more of them they’d “smash em back to London”.
Unbeknown to them there were two cockney bastards trapped with them. On this occasion, the two cockney bastards just looked at each other and gave a brother-to-brother knowingly nod. We were going to keep quiet!
Luckily the London train came and peace was restored.