As I was meeting the rest of Zizkovs foreign legion at the train station at quarter to ten, I was up early doors. I rinsed off my slight hangover in the shower and was out of the door by nine. The train station was huge and was more like a shopping mall than a train station. I treated myself to a continental breakfast, a coffee and croissant and walked around for ages trying to find our rendezvous point, Burger King. Once we were all together, we got some supplies and headed for our train. I don’t even know where we went. I just know it was two cans away.
On arriving at our destination we had a look round some castle before finding a pub for some food and beers. My lunch was excellent. Neck of swine with almost mashed potatoes. Probably the nicest food I’ve had since I’ve been here. I was as happy as my dinner was when it was alive and in shit. And then to spoil the taste we had some foul tasting short. I’m not sure if I drank it correctly. After I downed it one of the lads said “Jeez, he just did it in one.” I’m not into sipping stuff that tastes like it was made in the bathtub though. Get it over and done with quick sharp.
After a couple of pints it was time to head to the ground for some more pints and a spot of footy watching. There were only about a hundred people there and only about twenty of them were supporting Zizkov. They were great though. Sang all the way through the game and were by far the loudest out of the two sets of fans. One of them even had a load of flares, which he kept setting off. We went in to half time two nil down but the ultras kept singing and their support paid off, we won 3-2. It was an amazing game and an amazing atmosphere. Even some idiot from the home sides support trying to start a fight didn’t spoil it. Well not for us anyway. His afternoon was probably ruined by the bucket of water thrown over him. I still don’t know where the bucket came from but I do know that I’d have taken a punch over getting wet in that temperature.
The journey back to Prague only took one bottle and on arriving I was invited back to the ‘ultras’ pub for more beers. Sadly I had to turn the invitation down as it was my mate Cians birthday and we were hooking up with him to watch more football and drink more beer. Liverpool destroyed Man city at their own ground meaning both of my teams won away from home. Get in. Everything’s coming up Leeroy.
The rest of the evening was a blur. I know we went to the underground bar again and I know I was home by 3am, but what happened in between is pretty hazy. Probably filled with slurred conversations about football I imagine. A very enjoyable Saturday has laid the foundations for a really rubbish Sunday. I would kill for one of Gary’s roasts today. Meat, veg, gravy and a nice glass of red, would have nursed me back to health. Instead it’s a baked bean-less fish finger’s and chips dinner. A poor substitute but a necessary one.