Penguin Jack's Flashbacks
By Penguin Jack
May 5 2005
Welcome back to Jack's Flashbacks. It’s been a long time but I am here and believe me, I have lost none of the old magic at all...
So for once we have something to play for at the end of the season. We have a good record against Spurs at home and we always beat Manchester City, so young Jack is well horny at the thought of some more hot European action next year.
Anyway I went to the pictures the other night. I heard the “Ring Two” was playing. Well the robbing bastards fleeced me as there was no double penetration in that movie, so don’t bother lads. Believe me, stay at home and watch the ten minutes free preview thing instead.
So where was I? Ah I was gonna tell you about me at a Boro match, so here goes. I think The Wizard of Smog asked me once if I have ever been to a game, had a quiet drink, watched the game and just went home afterwards?
Well I have and here is the proof. But what happened the night before was messy business.
Saturday November 30th 2002. You know what I did? I saw the worst game of football I have ever seen, West Brom v Boro. It was wank!
I was based down in Lympstone at the time. Its a marine base in Devon and the Friday night before the game it was some early Christmas party thing where all the service personnel on the base were invited.
I went along with a couple of marine mates, just to be sociable like. And bearing in mind that I had a train to catch from Exeter to Birmingham early the next day, I didn’t really want to be smashed and end up fighting half the local population, which is the marine's usual way of doing things.
Anyway we met up with a few wrens (female ratings in the Royal navy) one of whom was going out with my mate. I had been teamed up with the best looker from the wrens group, so I was well happy with that result. I was soon into the crack and was in full swing, showing her exactly what a fucking silver tongued charmer I was.
But there was one slight problem. This girl had been drinking a lot before she came out, a bottle of vodka if I remember rightly, and by the time we got to this party she was pissed as a fart.
At the party there was all sorts of people there, including of course the 'top brass' and we were warned to behave ourselves in no uncertain terms.
But I was stuck with this bird who was very drunk and determined to make a Jack style exhibition of herself. And she started off with the grand occasion of us sitting down for dinner, missed the fucking chair and fell arse over tit taking all the drinks on the table with her, for fuck's sake.
So I had to pick her up and buy every fucker on our table a drink, costing me about £30, and try and sober her up somehow.
The sobering up thing failed and I decided to take the girl back to the base and leave her there and get my head down nice and early for the game tomorrow. That was my plan anyway but it failed, like a Stuart Downing cross failing to meet it's target.
On arrival at the camp gates she tripped and fell and smashed her head open on the curb! Being the gentleman that I am, I could hardly leave her lying there all bleeding and upset, let alone shag her in that condition. I am not fond of blood sports at the best of times, never mind when I have spent about £50 on a night out and only had three drinks to show for it for fuck's sake.
I had to take her to the sick bay and the looks I got off those nurses said it all. They thought I had got her drunk and smacked her one when she tried to stop my amorous advances, which couldn’t have been further from the truth. I explained the situation and how it had all been an accident.
I may as well have been speaking Swahili as these fucking nosy bastard nurses decided to call the military police after not believing a word I had told them about what had happened.
Well as often happens I got nicked. But this time it was military police and these twats don’t have a set of rules that they play by. They will stitch you up for fuck all, believe me. My only hope was that this girl had some recollection of falling over and me helping her get to sick bay but she was well hammered and there was little hope of that.
So after much questioning and threats to kick the shit out of me for being a low down dirty coward of a woman beater, I got locked up for the night. I probably didn’t help my cause much by questioning the nice military policeman’s mother's sexual history.
So guess what?
There had been a mass brawl in the local town and many young marines had been nicked. It was like a war zone in the cells with the MP's happy just to let the mad bastards fight each other. And I got locked up with a mackem! And he was absolutely fucking mental!
I mean he was trying to punch the wall down with his bare fists and he kept saying “Geordie cunt” over and over again, so I just kept my mouth shut instead of telling him we had a mutual hatred of Geordies that should keep us male bonded for a cosy evening in the cells together.
What a night of hell that was I tell you. The raving nutter wanted to kill someone and I had a game to go to the next day. I had my ticket on me and everything else, so I tried to hide my accent in case this maniac discovered I was a smoggy and started on me instead of the Geordie wall he kept talking to and punching.
It looked like an ordinary wall to me, so why he thought it was a Geordie, let alone a cunt still puzzles me to this day.
Anyway surprise fucking surprise. Next morning after no sleep and speaking like an Australian all night and ending up sounding like Marge off neighbours with a set of bollocks, I was released without charge. The nice chaps found the CCTV footage from outside the camp gates showing what I had told them in the first bloody place was correct.
I was free to go so I got changed, caught my train, had a few drinks, went to the game and came back home on the train.
The game was pure toss. We lost 1-0 and Danny Dicho scored. He was a wank player. Probably the worst player I have ever seen. It’s a wonder that we never signed him, he was that bad.
Another great tale don’t you think? Are you happy now Wiz?
Oh and by the way. About two weeks later I met that bird again. I will tell ya what happened next time, I promise.
See ya
Jack
Up the Boro.
Another flashback from Jack coming your way next Thursday.
