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Still Not Worthy Of A Thread


joeyt

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I smashed up my friend's bedroom where we were watching it. Fuck knows why we were in there and not watching on her bigger living room telly. :lol:

 

Knew it was in the moment he swung for it.

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Was stood on the half way line lower tier. The upper tier was visibly bouncing. Great memories only slightly spoiled by being next to two blokes calling Ginola a Whooer every 30 seconds for the entire game with the odd variation of Kill The Whooer Griffin.

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Shearer ran to my corner after that goal. I was 5 rows from the front, collapsed between the seats with my mate, 2 years older than me - a 9 year old, and my Dad, and everyone jumping around near our heads going mental. I'll never ever forget that day. My Dad picked me up with about 10 minutes left of extra time and turned me to the North Stand at Old Trafford and said "Son, never forget this for the rest of your days." The whole stand bouncing up and down singing "Toon, Toon...". Fuck me. It was terrifyingly loveable.

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It was a fucking incredible experience, that day. I think everyone just started hugging as many randoms as possible when the second went in. I was a little anxious about the movement of the stand, like.

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Shearer ran to my corner after that goal. I was 5 rows from the front, collapsed between the seats with my mate, 2 years older than me - a 9 year old, and my Dad, and everyone jumping around near our heads going mental. I'll never ever forget that day. My Dad picked me up with about 10 minutes left of extra time and turned me to the North Stand at Old Trafford and said "Son, never forget this for the rest of your days." The whole stand bouncing up and down singing "Toon, Toon...". f*** me. It was terrifyingly loveable.

 

:aww:

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Shearer ran to my corner after that goal. I was 5 rows from the front, collapsed between the seats with my mate, 2 years older than me - a 9 year old, and my Dad, and everyone jumping around near our heads going mental. I'll never ever forget that day. My Dad picked me up with about 10 minutes left of extra time and turned me to the North Stand at Old Trafford and said "Son, never forget this for the rest of your days." The whole stand bouncing up and down singing "Toon, Toon...". Fuck me. It was terrifyingly loveable.

 

:smitten:

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Was stood on the half way line lower tier. The upper tier was visibly bouncing. Great memories only slightly spoiled by being next to two blokes calling Ginola a Whooer every 30 seconds for the entire game with the odd variation of Kill The Whooer Griffin.

 

We were stood right at the back of the middle tier and that little top tier right above our heads was moving about 6 inches with each bounce.

 

Fuckin terrifying. Thank god for the pre match beer.  :celb1:

 

 

 

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I still get post-traumatic stress when I hear that "Collymore closing in..." commentary. Fucker uses it as the intro to his radio show as well.

 

I got bullied pretty much throughout my entire time at secondary school. I remember that goal going in and telling my mam I wasn't going in the next day :(

 

Bad enough memories of the match but fuck me, I hated school, funny how stuff evokes memories :lol:

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