Mark Davies tries to Bury the memory of a Grimsby away day…

Every football fan that has followed their team has “away stories.” These stories differ from club to club but usually involve one of two things, 1) the phrase “best game ever” or 2) “the worst game ever.”

I followed my club Bury all over the country for a few years, before I discovered that that thing I was peeing overly strong Belgian lager out of had a much better purpose.

I have decided to write a piece about the worst away game i ever went to but before that I thought about some of the “best” stories and they involved Bolton at the old ground, Burnden Park, one of the only grounds in the country that was a quarter supermarket. True.

Bury went there on a very very wet Tuesday night and a John McGinlay hat-trick turned him into an instant Bury legend. A role he gave up a year later when he ended playing for the enemy.

I also remember Tranmere, a fortress of a ground, the plastic scousers hadn’t lost at home for about a year and a half and after 16 minutes we were 2 down. We scored 4 times to shut up the locals and remember the very tongue-in-cheek chant of “we all agree that James are better than The Beatles”

My favourite though was Watford, having been given a lift by my work supervisor (the only thing in common we had was Bury, the conversation was a little strained) who left Bury at 7am and arrived in Watford at 10am before dropping me off whilst he nipped into London for “some things” (some things I still believe to this day was code for porn)

I wandered about till I met some fellow Shakers and promptly hit the pub at 11.01am. We needed a point for promotion into the Championship, and the dullest of dull games followed. The clock hit 89 minutes and with about 2000 Bury fans, maybe 1800 Bury fans, approx 1500 Bury fans, let say over a thousand Bury fans in full voice, Watford were given a penalty, the ball was struck hard and to Dean Kiely’s left and with Hollywood timing he flung himself across and saved it. Cue celebration! I don’t remember the lift home with my work supervisor, I wish it was because I was steaming but no, like the grateful passenger I was, I fell asleep before Watford Junction and he woke me up as we arrived back into Bury.

I then started thinking about the worst games, one that involved going to Exeter to watch my team not only get humped but humped wearing Exeters 3rd strip because the ref wouldn’t let us play in our red away strip because Exeter wore red and White strips.

Another one that could have made the list was Wigan, when Wigan were really bad, not just premiership bad, 4th division bad. The away end was a grass bank and we were playing them in the Sherpa Van Trophy on a wet and windy Tuesday night. The crowd of around 300 ( total, not away fans) witnessed me slip after Bury scored early and sliding down the muddy grass bank. Wet, tired and emotional Wigan decided to then pump us. I think it was 4-1 but could have been 10.

The other contenders were Cambridge where a mate of mine ruined a 2 day old leather jacket jumping on a railling covered in anti vandal paint. Chorley, FA Cup 1st round, were we lost 2-1, Bolton at the Reebok 5-0 defeat or Huddersfield when I drunkenly fell asleep on the train back, that terminated in Manchester then set off again to Huddersfield. I woke up somewhere in between the two.

The winner though is Grimsby, the team of fellow contributor Gordon Alexander. Bury had 2 coaches going to Grimbsy and the coaches left at 12 noon and were quickly on the M66. As we were about to pull onto the M62 coach one’s luggage compartment door swung open and so the two coaches pulled into the hard shoulder and took about 10/15 to fix the problem. The journey for the next hour and a bit was uneventful but as we were about 30 miles from Grimsby on the M180 there was a crash approx 250 yards in front of us. Everything stopped and very quickly the emergency services were on hand. It quickly became apparent that this was a bad smash and the police shut the motorway in both directions.

The police told us that they were going to turn everything round and we would have to drive back up the motorway the wrong way. As we were so close to the front of the queue we realised that we were now at the very back regarding turning everything round. Now it’s approx 3pm and the game is getting under way. People are talking and we are deciding whether we should carry on to the ground or just head home as we are still 30 mins at least away. The outcome is that we just head to the ground. As the clock hits 4pm we are now stuck in traffic on the A roads heading towards Grimsby.

The club steward on the bus had phoned Grimsby and explained that we are still on route but may not get there till 4.15pm. Grimsby to their credit said that we could enter the ground for free. As we eventually arrived at the ground at 4.35pm we were met by 4 stewards who now tell us it’s £5 to get in. Protests fall on deaf ears and I’m sure the Stewards enjoy a few free pints on our behalf. The look of bewilderment on everybody’s faces as 100 Bury fans poured in with 10 minutes left. The game was 0-0 at the time and finished 0-0. Twenty minutes after leaving the coaches we were all heading back towards it and a further 10 minutes later were going through the streets of Grimsby. As we were stopped at the entrance to a housing estate, some local supporters who I presume knew the bus journey out, bricked the two coaches and smashed windows along the side.

One or two people had had enough by this point and they ran off the coach to try to catch these people. The police were called and took forever to arrive. They then wanted statements and finally at approx 7.30pm we were allowed to leave Grimsby and had the 3 hour journey back home as we were told to keep the speed to a max of 50mph! At 10.30pm we arrived home on a very quiet, very cold and very peed off coach. As away trips go, it definitely rates as the worst.

I don’t have anymore to add to this other than ask if anyone can match or better this story then please feel free to contribute, and to explain to everyone, especially Gordon, that’s the reason I shudder everytime I hear the word Grimsby!
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About the Author

For as long as he can remember, Mark has loved football. Originally from just outside Manchester, he supports Bury FC so can’t be labelled as a glory hunter (although they do hold the record for the biggest FA Cup final winning margin, 6-0 in 1903 and it still stands today!).
Mark drives a cab, so automatically he “has an opinion and usually it’s the right one!” All opinions are the author’s own, and they can be heard on twitter @bigmarkdavies. You can contact Mark via email at bigmarkdavies@talktalk.net

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