The dust had settled over Ballboygate. Anxious waits subsided as tickets arrived through the letterbox. The waiting was over. Swansea City were travelling to Wembley for the 2013 Capital One Cup Final to meet Yorkshires finest â Bradford City. The bus was waiting outside the Llberty with only Dill and the driver on it. âIâll go and get the bastards nowâ said Dill, âWeâre already twenty minutes lateâ He sauntered across the car park and opened the door of Frankie and Bennies. The noise hit him straight away as a rabble of 30 Jacks belted out the final lines of Max Boyces famous ballad, â...and we all knew what she wanted aye, his photo of Michel Vorm, and we were singing ..â âSHUUUUUUUUUUUUTUPâ said Dill. âThe bus is leaving in 5, either get on it or your staying hereâ ââFark Orfâ was the most common reply, but the rabble duly slung down their pints, grabbed their bags and slowly made their way to the bus, signing another chorus on the way â...and we were singing, hymns and arias...â The driver looked grim as he realised he had to spend the next two days with this lot. No one really knew each other, but a couple of pints in F&B had sorted that out. There had already been two fights with Knackered and Dragon having a bruising encounter in the car park, while FFS had knocked himself out while headbutting a brick wall. On they came. Dill tries to organise the seating arrangements because apart from getting pissed, his only other skill is organising trips. He soon realises he is fighting a losing battle as 30 stubborn middle aged men clamber on to the bus. âI am not sitting thereâ, I am not sitting next to him, he called me a ****er last weekââI am not sitting next to the bogsâ are all common complaints. On they come, Jager, Ivor, Dragon, FFS, SA9, Swimaway, trundles left, foot, VETCHETERIAN, Knackered, Norway Jack, campionjack, Swantastic, neveroffsidereff, SA9, Ash, Aswan, Billybjack, Mr Gullible, bonyjack, Mabon are amongst the recognisable faces. A few more introductions follow as the ale loosens the tongues. Dill, the bus organiser. He is always pissed, reads the Western Mail and likes women, gambling and non PC jokes, not necessarily in that order. Jager, said he wasnât going but has been kidnapped while walking through Pontardawe. He is our statsman and routeplanner. A tall man climbs on to the bus in clergical form. It is Ivor. In real life Ivor is a vicar in the Sketty area. The voice of reason, he carries a Bible under his right arm, but inside is a copy of âShootâ January 1974 edition. His passion is preaching football. Dragon arrives. He is wearing a horrible blue baseball hat, trainers. No one can sit next to him as he takes up two seats. He is wearing an Everton top because he hates Liverpool, is already farting and ready to stink out the toilet after drinking two pints of Bass in The Beaufort Arms, Mumbles. FFS is sitting next to Dill for now. He still has restraint marks on his arms and these are made worse as he is tied to the chair in the front of the bus. The bus fills up and there is a cards school half way down the aisle, with Swimaway, taffvalerowdy, trundles left foot, VETCHETERIAN and swantastic playing three card brag. SA9 has been place in charge of glossy magazines and he is soon joined by Ash, Aswan, Mr Gullible, bonyjack and Mabon. Terrorwit has brought his Subbutteo and placed it nicely over the back seat with Ivor ready to organise a tournament. There are about ten empty seats as we have a few picks up the way, but there are two empty ones at the front. âThey are for Dai and ChicoTimeâ said Dill. âIâll get them from the Premier Loungeâ He disappears and comes back in a rush. âDai is on his way, but....â He is interrupted by a loud roar as Dai appears. He is in full Swans kit, top, shorts, socks and boots. âWhat else would you expect from the Swans number one fan, you bastardsâ laughs Dai, as he tucks his Daily Telegraph under his arm. The bus is in uproar, but Dill still canât contain himself âLOOK WHOâs COMINGâ he orders as the doors of The Premier Lounge open. Out steps a tall, tanned, strapping young man with a ponytail. âItâs Chicoâ. There is mayhem as the Spaniard steps on the bus, takes a bow and sits next to Dai. âCHICO, CHICO, CHICO, CHICO, CHICO, CHICO, CHICO, CHICOâ bellows through the bus. âWhat about our mod?â says Ivor â**** himâ says Dill, âI must have sent the invite to the wrong one! Anyway Chico is better looking and will help us pull birds in Reading. Lets goâ. So there it is. The bus is loaded, there are a few pick ups on the way. WEMBLEY HERE WE COME. NB: The bus will be calling at Briton Ferry McDonalds, Cardiff Airport, Cardiff West Services before an overnight stop in Reading.
Brilliant. I can't wait for the next installment. Just one question, how the fcuk do you know I'm a Pisshead
Keep it up .PGF White while you lot are enjoying youselfs you lucky bastards have a good trip and get home save. just think of us too who cant make the trip due to the cost over 2 ooo pound for Musty & Myself to fly over from .Aussie land I am thinking of come home in time for next seasion, Have a good time up the Jacks to win 3 1 ,s t i d
More tea vicar? I found this video, is it you down Wind Street? https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ajLfYIHEqzk&feature=youtube_gdata_player
