Middlesbrough home in 1990 – How it was, when it was – The Battle of Bourgognes | OneFootball

I was just reading the comments section on The Mag and a post from GToon popped up, asking it anybody was with the lads in the Strawberry on Saturday.

And hey ho, guess who was there, yours truly.

Unfortunately, one of our lot is due another trip up to the big house, just after getting out following the Burnley carry on.

A few of the lads approached me and asked when was my next article on The Mag going to be?

So edible crayons purchased, here we go, Middlesbrough at home, 10th of October 1990.

Now in the League Cup first leg at Ayesome Park, Boro had battered us (2-0), on and off the pitch.

Back then Middlesbrough was a right nasty place to go and in truth, Boro had the hex over us off the pitch for a fair few years. They were well organised and had a large number of tasty lads. Although why they named their firm after a dog flea treatment was beyond me (The Frontline).

So, after a 1-0 return leg Newcastle win, we lost the tie 2-1 on aggregate.

It was obvious that Boro had a massive mob in the Leazes. At the time we used to drink in Bourgonges pub which used to be opposite the Mayfair (now the Gate).

Anyway, we were quite pally with the bouncers who did the door at that time. However, for some reason that night there were a couple of new bouncers on the door, who quite frankly looked like Dolf Lundgren and his younger brother. So getting back in after the match there were 20 of us from Low Fell and around 90 of the gremlins outside the Mayfair, waiting for Boro.

Standing at the doorway of the pub, senior Dolf asks me what am I doing, “waiting for Boro mate.”

Dolf senior grabs me, launching me back into the bar, saying, “I will tell you when Boro are here.”

Thirty seconds later, Dolf senior then grabs me again, hoying me outside, growling “Boro are here.”

Looking up, I see a mob of 300 lads heading straight for us…Miranda, call the midwife.

BANG and it’s off, we’re into it big time and doing alreet for ourselves, considering the numbers we are facing.  Thirty seconds in and we’re holding our own. Only for the Boro fans to stop and a gap opens amongst them, this thing walks to the front (found out later he was called Oathead) who was wide as he was tall and bosh, he banjos me in the face knocking me backwards. I stay on my feet and run to him, giving him a forearm smash, we’re stuck into it…(although in a Boro hooligans book he described this incident and says he threw me through the bar plate glass window).

Soon we hear the bizzies’ siren and I feel myself flying back through the air, as baby Dolf grabs me, hauling me back into the bar to get myself cleaned up. Had a cut under my eye. Although in true casual style I was more concerned about my two tone purple Berghaus jacket.

So fair play to Boro for bringing it to us again and thanks to my mate, Giuseppe from Low Fell, top bloke, hope you are well mate.

‘Folk in the photo above – Chargesheet in the glasses (front), Monty, Nasty and Renzo’