Drink and Destroy - The Saga Continues...

Some of you may recall the original Drink and Destroy trip to Crewe last season. Jeff carried an envelope labelled 'Drink and Destroy' bursting with discount Wetherspoons vouchers that he had aquired, and this was again repeated on a much larger scale when we travelled to Doncaster last season. This seasons visit to the Keepmoat witnessed the saga's third installment...

Despite earlier plans to head down a bit later for this game, the matchday euphoria got the better of me once more and I joined Jeff and Pip on the 1pm train from Nottingham. Mr Edwards had already tasted his first alcohol of the day despite his apparent high blood pressure warning from his GP and paid no further heed to it as we arrived in Chesterfield. He was in unstoppable mood and myself and Pip found oursleves playing catch up with him en route to The Portland Hotel Wetherspoons. Jeff's day though was about to take a serious turn for the worse...

Armed with dozens and dozens of vouchers, we approached the bar only to be issued with a swift denial by the bar maid who pointed out that they had expired two days previously. Jeff hurried to the table insisting that some were valid more in hope then belief and made me search each one individually. Our efforts proved futile though as we admitted defeat and the dream died.

An hour and a half and a couple of pints later, we headed back towards the station with plans to find the next wave of attack consisiting of Caygill, Gerb and Tom who were onboard the 4.08pm train bound for Doncaster. With a few others recently arriving in Doncaster after travelling up in the car, we opted to skip the traditional stop off in Sheffield and head straight there. I was maybe fortunate to remain on the train as the little conductor took offence to being likened to one of the Crankies which she inadvertantly overheard!

We were getting a bit cranky ourselves without a beer for over an hour but at 5pm we arrived into Doncaster. Six then became nine as we joined Mouner Snr and Junior and Jacob. The first place we came across was another Wetherspoons which was relatively busy with fans of both teams. The police soon arrived and began circling the bar before approaching one young Forest fan who they asked if he had a footballing banning order. A few of us were listening in although Jeff admitted he had mistakenly thought they had said 'Do you have a van'? which would have been rather bizarre! The Forest fan admitted he had and that he had a ticket for the game with us and him expecting him to be immediately carted off. Strangely, the police let him be and walked off. The lad and his mates began seemingly looking for an escape route other than the guarded front door but the next time we saw him was on the way to the ground being escorted by police who must have been in a good mood.

After Wetherspoons, we made the short walk up the road to Walkabout which was surprisingly empty. From here we split into two and jumped in taxis toward the Keepmoat arriving at around half past seven. Inside the ground, was Mitchell, Trigger, PL and Hawkeye who had all travelled up independently of each other.

2,500 Reds witnessed a rather dull game and a rather strange Forest kit consisiting of black shirt, red shorts and red socks. For the first time this season that I can recall, some elements turned on Calderwood with a barrage of 'Calderwood out' coming from the left side whilst some attempted to recreate the now infamous 'We're shit and we're sick of it' chant. To sing it once last season was bad enough especially as six weeks later we won promotion but to try it again at the same ground was very embarassing. The Doncaster fans must think we're all a bunch of idiots. Luckily, it never took off any further than a small handful.

Those of us on the train didn't have much time to lose after the game with our last train leaving Doncaster at 22.13. Gerb and Tom had a lift sorted so we're not with us but PL was joining us for the train back. We thankfully made it in time and, along with a small number of fellow Forest fans, we travelled back to Sheffield arriving at 10.50pm.

Our connection back to Nottingham was not until 23.38 so we made our way across the road in search of a final pint. We were spurned in the Howard who had stopped serving whilst the Globe was simply too busy with students. We thought we had made it in the Red Lion before being turned away once more.

Back at the station, PL decided to catch the earlier train to Derby but this proved a mistake when it was announced that it had been delayed leading to PL joining us again to catch the Nottingham train where we arrived back at around 00.45 all rather weary after the days events. A point is better than nothing and we did at least produce a rare clean sheet but wins need to start coming, and soon.

Next up, we're sent to Coventry and one of two new grounds for me to visit this season.

Group Members: Jeff, Pip, Oldroyd, Caygill, Gerb, Tom, Dan, Nigel, Jacob, Mitchell, PL, Trigger, Hawkeye

Best Pub: The Portland Hotel, Chesterfield

Toilet Humour

It's maybe a sign of my immaturity but toilet's, especially those strange ones on trains, are a source of huge amounts of laughter. With seats at a premium on the train down to Bristol, we stood in the corridor by the lavaratory enjoying the cans we had picked up at Birmingham New Street during our change. Our first beer had come just outside the station in The Newt. Despite a rough outlook inside it is rather pleasant and at half ten it was virtually empty givng us free reign. Trigger was once more concerned only with his hunger and ordered a breakfast. Unfortunately for him, the chef was running late for work and with us having a train to catch, Trig had to settle for a refund.

The train came bang on time and we took our place next to the toilet. Before long the alcohol was coming out the other end and Trig was the first to sample the delights of the loo. It was all too easy for us. The slow sliding door gave me and Caygill the opportunity to hit the 'open' button just as the door was about to shut which baffled the poor Trigger who was oblivious to his torment. He finally managed to lock the door and a couple of minutes later the door was sliding open. Trig was struggling to find the flush button and began searching high and low for it. 'Is this it'? he asked as he began to pull at the disabled support pole! He began pumping it up and down as we burst into hysterics at his error.

A while later, PL took his turn. Whilst he was inside, a young woman had come down and stood patiently outside waiting for the toilet to become vacant. PL was obviously unaware of this so when the door slid open he was frantically pulling on the same disabled support in an attempt to mock Trigger. Foolishly, he didn't think to look up first and pumped away as this woman stared at him aghast! God only knows what she was thinking!

Just over two hours later we were arriving in Bristol. Trig had some gash lined up but she didn't fancy the trip into town so we continued as a foursome into the Reckless Engineer pub across the road. There were a couple of Forest lads in there who we spoke to before another dozen or so came through the door. Their leader, a guy called Alan, came over to say hello pushing PL out the way in the process. The conversation soon turned into almost a competition as we compared future train trips. This guy seemed pretty much on the ball when it came to booking trains and he filled us in with his various plans and how cheap he had got them. We did manage to get one over on him though with the Norwich trains. He was initially taken aback that he had missed this instead insisting it was impossible to get there. I informed him of our detour to London and he began shouting round the pub telling his comrades of our find. A top bloke and the reason behind our cheap journey down to Charlton after he shared some of his tips!

We opted against waiting for the local bus to ferry us to Ashton Gate and decided instead to hop in a taxi outside the station. Traffic wasn't as bad as predicted and we were in the vicinity of the ground by 2.40pm. We made the walk around towards the away turnstiles and were inside about five minutes before the teams came out. A constant theme with trips to Bristol City seems to be the hassle of actually finding a seat. This was my third visit and with it being unreserved seating once more we did a fair bit of shifting round due to the truly awful views mainly caused by the couple of hefty pillars in our way. In the end we sat apart. Myself and Trigger found aisle seats with Caygill and PL sitting together a couple of rows in front of me.

The locals did their best to intimidate as they always do and boasted about smashing up Amici several times and told us that apparently, we're not famous anymore. 'That's funny' us Forest fans said as one, because your not famous anyway. This tit for tat banter reared its head later in the half when the home fans to our right sang 'You used to be good, but now your shit'. Quick as a flash the reply was shot back: 'You used to be shit, and your still shit'. There is nothing to come back with after that and to their credit, they didn't even try. Besides, for large parts of the game they were played off the park by the famous team and if we were shit then what were they?

My aisle seat of course was a great thing to have when the goals went in. Each time I went charging down the steps to the front sticking to my usual routine of hugging strangers and causing as much chaos as I physically could. For the second goal I was joined by Cags as we both celebrated in front of the players. I skipped back up the steps when things had died down and the young lad next to me gave me a high five which was nice. Then I hugged him.

Remarkably, that Derby fan saved another penalty in the dying seconds to rescue us a point when it really should have been all three. 'Lee Camp is a Forest fan' we sang jubilantly as we headed out the ground although I think we were all rather disappointed we hadn't won.

The walk back to the station was mammoth. We were booked on the half past five train but we always knew that it was going to take a small miracle to make that. We eventually got back at 6pm all pretty shattered although our journey did at least prove handy for future reference with us passing by many of Bristol's delights including their waterfront area which we will surely have to try and get to next time.

It seemed that the majority of Reds who had travelled by train were joining us on the half past six service and a large group of us jumped aboard and were soon heading back north. We managed to find a table this time so avoided the toilet area and conversation turned to a Thursday night out PL experienced a few years back...

I will say now that in no way can I ever do this story justice. PL's delivery was nothing short of magnificent and by the end we were gasping for breath. I think it is probably best left for another time or maybe not at all as another telling would maybe spoil it but all I shall say is that it involves a randy female drug-addict (allegedly), her baby and a panicking PL hiding in a bathroom before escaping through a window! I sincerely hope that the Woman does not read these pages.

A train was waiting for us on platform 11 at Birmingham New Street so we all hurriedly made our way through the station and aboard what was to be the final leg of the journey. Seats were once more hard to come by and we had soon lost Trigger who we left behind as he tried his luck with some bird. We arrived back into Nottingham a few minutes after ten, incredibly on schedule. After missing the first train from Bristol we had planned to get back at 11pm but the awaiting train in Birmingham had eradicated that waiting time so we had fallen on our feet.

A few more beers was our first priority so we made our way into Lloyds in the Lace Market. This was followed by a visit to Squares where an old school friend was celebrating her birthday. To be honest, I wouldn't class her as a friend. I just think she looks like the horse out of Toy Story 2 but she had a crush on Cags at school because he looked like Gareth Gates so he was invited along. Trigger had left after Lloyds but me and PL tagged along. After a brief meet, we ended up back in bloody Lloyds where a familiar face was waiting. The one and only Big Bad Baz. He was off his head but eagerly hugged all of us especially PL and asked us about the game. 'I haven't seen you this drunk since Frankfurt' I said to him. 'No, no, no' he replied 'I saw you at Derby'! I just nodded and grinned. We then became embroiled in a lengthy discussion about the game at Bristol and he made his excuses for not listening to it. After a good few minutes he then turned to me and hilariously said: 'Who did we play today, Hull'?

By midnight we were off. Caygill had his car parked at his work and he drove back dropping me off at home. A point was all that we had come back with although that, in hindsight, is not a bad return at all but it could and should have been a victory we returned home with. The gap is now down to four and we have some massive games coming up with my old friends at Nowich the next visitors to the City Ground.

Group Members: Caygill, Oldroyd, Trigger, PL

Best Pub: The Newt

Quote of the Day: Baz: 'Who did we play today, Hull?'

Highlight: PL's story

Oh My God! They've Got Masks!

Matchday, 1.10pm. The teams make their way onto the pitch to a roar from all corners of Pride Park. But what's this? The home fans appeared to be raising something... Masks, fucking masks! 30,000 Derby fans holding pathetic little Ram masks over their faces. I could not stop laughing. It was almost to good to be true that they not only seemed to think this would create a brilliant and intimidating spectacle but also the way they aimed them in our direction. I almost felt bad for them. They were so proud of these little things and all the 2,800 Forest supporters could do was mock them until most of our lungs hurt. 'What the fucking hell are they' we chanted. For so long Derby have sat precariously in second place in my 'Gayest Fans' league table behind Norwich but even before kick off they had stormed to the top. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.

At 9am me and Caygill had joined the few other Forest fans looking for an early start in Lloyds at the Waterfront. Within a few minutes, Dan and Glen arrived after a quick pint in the Bentinck and the pub began to fill up even at this early stage in the day. Over the next half an hour, more of the group arrived. Baz made his first appearance on home soil, after his trips to Frankfurt and Dublin, making nine of us in total. Before heading across to the Bentinck, Jacob suggested some shooters which, despite the time, was seen as a good idea so pink tequila's were soon sat in front of us.

The Bentinck unsurprisingly was full with Reds seeking a last stop before the train journey. The 11.36 had been designated as a football special so we boarded along with hundreds of others and set off on the short journey down the line to Derby. The songs that had begun in the Bentinck were carried on in the carriages including a pitch perfect impromptu version of Hi Ho Silver Lining by some lunatic. A posse of Derby fans joined the train at Long Eaton which appeared to immediately lead to trouble with a Forest fan led away while a Derby supporter spoke to police nursing a fat lip.

The usual police presence was on show as we jumped off the train and onto the platform at Derby station. Rows and rows of officers dresses in riot gear lined the walkway and sheperded us out the back entrance and into a human pen outside. It took an age to get moving but when all were accounted for the walk got underway. The escort was largely uneventful but things picked up as we were led right through the main car park at the stadium past the Derby fans who didn't seem too keen on us. They were laughed off as we turned the corner and reached the away turnstiles.

The scene inside was more akin to a gig then a beer queue as Forest songs echoed through the concourse and hundreds upon hundreds jumped, swayed and danced around. An appearance from Kris Commons on the TV screens didn't go down too well leading to numerous beer containers and coins hurtling towards the screen.

We took our seats shortly before the teams came out and the Forest fans made themselves heard. Unlike our rivals, we didn't rely on stealing other teams songs and adapting them as their own. After a Forest chance went begging towards the end of the first half, those witty Derby supporters sang: 'That's why your going down' which led to an immediate response of 'Worst team in history'. The poor little Rams had nothing to come back with and needless to say we didn't hear their song again all afternoon.

The goal, ten minutes into the second period, was coming and created chaos in the away end. I slipped down every step of the aisle somewhow managing to stay upright only to head back up the stairs and trip up on a step! Caygill dragged me back up as we made our way to our seats and noticed how very quiet the home fans had suddenly become.

The lead didn't last too long but during this eleven minutes the Derby fans did not want to know. Unsurprisingly they came back to life when they scored their equaliser and we took another hit with McGugan's red card. The last five minutes were probably the most bizarre anyone in the stadium had ever seen. The penalty led to a hilarious exchange between both sets of supporters. Firstly, they celebrated the goal only to see it disallowed as we laughed at their dismay only to find that a penalty had been given much to their delight. Our joy at Camp's penalty save looked shortlived when Derby 'scored' again soon only to find it had been disallowed! Paul Jewell made himself look a right wally with his antics as he sprinted onto the pitch only to celebrate before timidly turning round and trudging back to his dugout.

The final whistle blew not long after and we mocked the Derby fans by pointing out that we only had ten men. The police rounded us all up outside and marched us back to the station. There were several heated episodes en route but the police stood firm and managed to get us out of town a soon as they could.

We headed to Via Fossa in Nottingham and disected the goings on, especially the remarkable finale. It would have maybe have left us slightly disappointed not to have taken all the points usually but with ten men and a last minute penalty to face, a point was most welcome. 

Four points from two tricky away games where most would have expected nothing. COME ON YOU REDS.

Group Members: Dan, Glen, Oldroyd, Caygill, PL, Trigger, Hawks, Ridgill, Jacob, Baz

Best Pub: The Bentinck

Highlight: Forgetting the goal, it would have to be the masks. If only we'd won, I could have called this report 'The Masks of Sorrow'. Oh well.

Jingle All The Way

Oh what fun it is to see Forest win away.

It's been a long time coming but we finally got our first away points of the season. Most may well have settled for a point before kick off but three was deserved and bloody brilliant to say the least.

Despite my earlier travel plans of heading down by myself on the train due to other commitments, I was able to negotiate an early release and joined Trigger and Caygill on Queen Street at 2pm before heading over to Sandiacre to PL's house. It didn't take long before Trigger was off exploring the house and attempting to steal sweets from the cupboards even discovering PL's halloween outfit!

By half past two the journey down to the capital began. Two hours later we arrived at Stanmore where we parked and boarded a train into central London. We decided to jump off at Green Park and explore a yet untapped location but it proved to be a waste of time with the only bar around being a touch too plush for four football fans. I don't think they'd have left us in anyway.

We headed back underground opting to head for the more working class Oxford Circus. Coming out on to the street we were caught up in a huge crush as a mixture of shoppers, commuters and tourists rushed around. Fortunately it didn't take too long to find a pub around the corner called The Explorer. We drank up, with myself and Cags purchasing a poppy in the mean time, and headed for the exit to find it was know bucketing it down with rain. The tube was only a few yards away so we braved the downpour only to find another large crowd of people gathered round the entrance. The underground had been shut, probably due to the high volume of people seeking shelter so we were stranded.

We had plans to grab another drink somewhere along the line but time was starting to run down with it now past 6pm. We were not even sure of which way the nearest tube stop was but help was at hand in the most unlikely source. Trigger spotted a woman stood nearby holding an umbrella which had a map of the tube on it. I managed to creep up behind her and scan the map to find our nearest station which proved to be Bond Street. We knew the way so made the five minute walk, amid the wind and rain, in that direction.

The aim was to reach London Bridge before 7pm to make a connection to Norwood Junction. Upon arriving we saw the next train was due to depart in a matter of minutes so we hurriedly boarded and were soon speeding toward south London. The train arrived after twenty minutes and we went in search of a chip shop. Trigger started to get frantic and began asking Palace fans for directions and then some startled policemen. We eventually found somewhere and ate as we walked towards the ground.

I had some bad news as I passed through the turnstiles when I discovered that my poppy, that was soaked anyway, had fallen off. It was probably down to the over zealous searching proceesdures by the stewards outside the ground who heavily patted (or should that be petted?) me down and even asked to see my keys. I'm hardly gonna throw them at someone am I?

In the ground we were fortunately seated close to the front which kept the large supporting pillars out of our view. We were coincidentally sat next to the two lads who came out with us on the Friday after the Offenbach game who I unfortunately cannot remember the names of but they do feature in the Frankfurt photo section. Rather bizarrely the large screen to our left was showing Sky Sports News before switching to live coverage of the Newcastle game.

The goal looked like it was going to come sooner than it did but Cohen's free kick hit the back of the net the joy was well above anything we have experienced this season. The lads battled all night and were unluckly, despite pressure from Palace, to concede an equaliser much to the home fans delight who mocked us profusely. Much credit to the Forest players though who didn't sit back and defend and settle for a point and went at Palace.

If the first goal sent us mad then the winner was off the scale. Thornhill's effort was turned in by a defender cue utter chaos from the Forest section. I attempted to grab the guy in front of me to celebrate but he was off. Down the few steps to the gate, over and onto the pitch! I had better things to do then watch him but I managed to see him running across the front of the Palace fans to our left giving it the 'c'mon' gesture as he skipped sidewards! Meanwhile I was busy sharing celebratory hugs with strangers before Caygill sent me spinning when he joined me in the aile grabbing me round the neck. Seconds later, it felt like minutes, there was a cheer from the home crowd as the pitch invader was apprehended by stewards. He wasn't going down without a fight though and battled on the floor with four of them before being marched away!

The final minutes were tense but we stood firm and could have had another three but we didn't really care. Calderwood and his players made their way over to celebrate with their supporters with CC offering a cautious wave. While the pressure is undoubtedly on him, most will agree he got it spot on at Selhurst Park and that performance, like others this season I might add, betray our league position.

The entire team deserve credit for the performance but special mentions to Ian Breckin, Wes, Joel Lynch and Lewis McGugan. The first three have had their critics but every one of them was simply immense. The star of the show though was our number 15. He simply never stops. He tacked, won headers, set up endless chances, he did everything. The new James Bond film is released this week but forget Daniel Craig, we have our our very own all action hero. The names Cohen....Chris Cohen.

There was a further cheer as we filed out of the stadium as the large screen showed the latest league table. 'We're not bottom anymore' echoed around the empty Selhurst Park. We headed back to Norwood Junction as the texts flooded in. Glen offered a rather bizarre 'congratulations' and Jeff's read 'bring on the Rams'. We also learned of the snow that was falling across the country which had led to several postponements across the country. We had yet to see anything but we soon would.

En route to the station I heard behind me someone ask 'Are you lads Nottinam Forest'? (why do they never pronounce the 'g'?) My initial reaction was someone looking for trouble but he was actually a Palace fan with two young lads who wanted to pass on his belief that we deserved the win and were the better side. He went a bit too far when he said we were good enough for the Premier League but he was very complimentary all the same.

By now we had reached Norwood but were dismayed to find that it was temporarily shut to keep crowds inside at a minimum. The train arrived on the platform and the crowd grew restless. Eventually we were allowed access and jumped on the service back to London Bridge. As we boarded we came across a wheelchair bound Palace fan who was going on and on and on and then some. He began talking to us and informed us of his short stay in Nottingham at university which he failed to complete. Every sentence that passed his lips was a genuine contender for quote of the day as he spoke of the 'social bubble' he was in at Nottingham and how enjoyed writing essays to which Trigger replied 'I bet you are'. He told us of his times following Palace and basically his entire life story. Trigger asked his how many stops to London Bridge and he almost lost control in excitment at the question. He wasn't backwards in any way, just rather peculiar...and fat.

We headed down towards the underground as a chorus of 'You Reds' echoed around the station. We were now on the last leg of our London journey as we got aboard the tube back up to Stanmore. The amount of snow lining the route was rather surprising as we had seen nothing at the game but as we made our way further north it became thicker as did the snow that was falling. By the time we reached  Stanmore it was very heavy and the ground was covered. I caught Caygill on the back with a snowball before he launced one at Trigger. The battle was about to turn into a full scale attack before PL told us off.

The early part of the journey was slow as the snow fell on the M1 but it began to clear and as we reached Bedfordshire, it was hardly visible. We arrived back at around 1.30am. Three points safely aboard and the genuine feeling that a fightback is on the cards...

BRING ON THE DERBY.

Group Members: PL, Trigger, Caygill, Oldroyd

Best Pub: We only got chance for one due to the closure of the tube station so it has to be The Explorer

Quote of the Day: Our wheelchair friend on the train was babbling away as we boarded. The first thing we heard was him say 'If this was the play-offs then we'd be going to Wembley' (referring to aggregate score). 'But it's not' Trigger replied.

Highlight: The winner and the pitch invader.