Organised a coach for work colleagues which left Hurn about 7? 7.30?, no alcohol of course, but lots of people on board with litres of “coke” and “orange juice”. Stopped at services, full of AFCB.
Got to Cardiff, all pissed. Walking to the pub, turned round to lead my group in a song, walked backwards into a railway bridge.
Into the Prince of Wales, 16 had made it, so got to the bar and ordered 32 beers, starting a chain to get the beers to the group. However, by the time the ninth was heading down the line, the first empty was coming back, so ordered another 16.
Got into the singing section behind the goal, and the noise was superb, everyone having a great time and positive we’d win. I remember the tenseness despite the alcoholic haze, but that disappeared in the explosion of joy which greeted Fletch’s goal.
Towards the end many of us were feeling somewhat the worse for wear despite the ecstasy of winning. Remember the lap of honour to the Quo and Queen and just constantly singing all day.
The return coach journey was enlivened by a massive row between a couple on board, and they ended up getting off the coach in a lay-by and refusing to get back on, so they were left there.
Got back to Bournemouth aiming to hit the town but were starting to feel hungover already so settled for another couple of swift pints before heading home.
Great day, one of my top 5 football days