Might have to check that van out I can't believe some of the prices charged for a burger around the ground and most of them my dog wouldn't bloody touch! But under the influence and hungry it does the trick!
Is that the one that has a board saying "Hot dogs made with real sausages". I dread to think what a false sausage is.
Before football, never champagne, that's only for evening shennanigans. Peroni or Sagres is normally consumed.
train to so'ton central walk to ground and get a beer inside. However it is very expensive so might try somewhere outside the ground if it is cheaper. Any reccomendations??? With regards to getting autographs if you wait by the tunnel as the teams come out and you might be able to get the subs autographs. If you wait a long time after the match you can get the away and home teams players autographs as they get onto the bus.
I don't think that's their particular target Market!! No I don't think its that one, it's the one closest to the ground when walking round the back.
I live in Ocean Village so all my mates come over mine. Have a few then down to the Banana Wharf or the Chapel Arms for a few more. Then on to St Marys
Chapel arms actually seems quite popular is the King Alfred a ****e people full of arseholes that I don't know about and might be seen as one?
I shouldn't worry too much about that Alex. If you've spent any time in the King Alfred at least you will have built up your resistance to bacteria.
Never been to King Alfred what's it like?. Only reason we go to Chapel Arms is because we pass it on are way to St Mary's
Ummmmm where do I start.... It looks tatty and a little run down but once your in there everyone seems to have a laugh and they have a good area outside ( I am a dirty smoker ) and they have a burger n hotdog bar in the garden during summer. I have met some pretty decent people down there at times but also some assholes..... your pretty standard football pub I think.
Depends on kick off time but start in the Standing Order for a few, then to Ladbrokes for a few bets. Then to the Chapel for a crap pint in a plastic... Then the match.
Serving ****in Lager in a plastic cup should be outlawed were not all ****ing inbred animals that can't behave with glass
My match day routine could not be any different to most of those described. The very lovely Mrs Godders wakes me at about 9.30 am with a cup of tea and tells me breakfast is ready. I don my dressing gown and make my way to the dining room where I enjoy a cooked breakfast including cereals, fruit juice and a couple of cups of freshly brewed tea. I usually manage to complete the Times crossword over breakfast. It is then off for a shower and I am very lucky since I have had a special seat installed so that I can sit down while showering and I donât keep falling over anymore. I then dress very carefully making sure I put on my lucky socks, always left foot first. Meanwhile the very lovely Mrs. Godders makes a flask of Bovril and some cheese and pickle sandwiches to take to the game. I like to listen to Radio 5 Live on the wireless while getting ready. I donât have anything to drink after breakfast as having taken my pills I will constantly need to go to the lavatory if I do. At about 1.30 I get my walking stick and coat and we set off to the match on the bus. Great things these free old folkâs bus passes. Before we get to the bus stop I usually discover I have forgotten the flask, sandwiches and the season tickets and so I have to send the lovely Mrs Godders running back to the house to fetch them. I have to say that running is a bit of an exaggeration. All of this usually means we miss our bus and have to wait for the next one and we usually get to the Above Bar about 2.30. We usually get to the ground at about 3.15 and have to disturb everyone while we make our way to our seats as we sit in the middle of the row. I have become pretty good at avoiding the little brat who tries to kick me every week when he moans about me being late by sending the lovely Mrs Godders along the row first. As a consequence she has some rather nasty looking bruises on her shins that seem to take a long time to heal. After taking my seat I invariably discover I need to go to the lavatory but this time I leave my seat going the other way along the row so that that nasty little brat canât kick me. Once I am back in my seat I usually manage to hold my bladder until about 5 minutes before half time when I have to go to the lavatory again. This time I go back along the row passing the brutal little thug who usually has his head in his hands and is mumbling something about murdering someone. When I get back to my seat it is just before the players come back out and at this point I get out the Bovril and sandwiches. Now I canât help it if I am a little unsteady these days and there is no need for the bloke in front to be so aggressive and threatening just because I sometimes spill a little of my scaldingly hot Bovril down the back of his neck. About twenty minutes into the second half I have to get up and go to the lavatory again. Too much Bovril always weakens my bladder and so I go back the same way as before just to wind up that rather nasty little thug who when I pass him is usually frothing at the mouth for some reason. I usually get back to my seat at about ten minutes before the game ends at which point the lovely Mrs Godders and I decide to leave as I get very nervous in the crush on the steps at the end of the game. It is at this point that I usually have to summon a steward as there are a number of very aggressive people who sit near me and they start making some most unpleasant comments and threats. I am really surprised that they let such people into a football match if they lose their temper that easily and almost every week too. On the bus home the very lovely Mrs. Godders tells me all about the bits I have missed usually they are the parts of the match where her hero Morgan has played a blinder. Once we are home I rub liniment into the lovely Mrs Godders bruises and promise her that I will write to Mr Cortese and complain about the behaviour of the fans who sit in our row. There is just no excuse for them to be so rude and abusive and way they speak to me is quite intolerable. After a bite for supper I usually make some Horlicks with warm milk which we drink with a biscuit before I fall asleep in front of Match of the Day. Before it ends the very lovely Mrs Godders wakes me and we set of to bed where I fall asleep quite quickly only to wake up about half an hour later to go to the bathroom. When I return I always notice the very lovely Mrs Godders fast asleep with a big smile on her face and mumbling something about âa little harder Morgan thereâs a good ladâ. It means a lot to me to know that she has enjoyed the game so much that she dreams about it. So at the next home game when you see a short whiskery man with a walking stick please don't kick me just hope that when you get to my age you don't have a weak bladder.
Just like the Chapel Arms then A few years back I use to drink at the Princess of Wales (one on the corner after Northam Bridge) and that's a proper hole.
When we used to play at the Dell the very lovely Mrs Godders and I would enjoy a pre-match drink in the bar of the Polygon Hotel. Nowhere around St Mary's quite comes up to that standard although I remember having a drink in the Feathers in St Mary's Street when we first moved to St Marys. After that quite frightening experience I no longer have the courage to go in pubs.
Brilliant story post Godders as usual And Joey I expected far more from you to make me or anyone bite to your comment. Are you losing your touch mate?
