When Borussia Dortmund came to Scotland to play Glasgow Celtic their hooligans came too. They were a funny bunch and not much how you'd expect skinheads to be. They effused that typical German apologetic politeness but simultaneously boasted 'a lineage of intellectual violence dating back to Nietzsche and Wagner,' according to the Times.
After the match a BBC Scotland news crew at Glasgow airport interviewed two such psychos heading home. It went like this:
"Excuse me gents, could we trouble you for a quick word for the telly?"
"Ja ja, Ve vood be only to happy."
"So, how have you enjoyed yer trip tae bonny Scotland?"
"Vell it has been lovely really. Sehr Schon. Der scenery vos beautiful, the sun shone and ve liked the visky, ja."
"You weren't involved in any scraps?"
"Unfortunately no. Ve ver actually quite disappointed with the lack of violent enthusiasm displayed by the Glasgow Celtic support."
"You mean you travelled all the way from Germany specifically to fight Celtic supporters?"
"Ja ja. Naturlich. For us, ze main attraction of travelling to this game was Glasgow's international reputation as a centre of football violence. To be honest though, ve feel a little bit let down."
"Do you think that disappointment can be attributed to the world-class policing skills of Strathclyde's finest?"
"(laughs) Nein nein nein. It just seemed that the Celtic fans ver not too much interested in violence. I mean, ve threw vun or two bottles and barstools around the streets just to try and get ze ball rolling, so to speak, but they wouldn't bite."
"Thank you gents. Have a safe trip. This is Archibald McArchibald at Glasgow Airport. Now back to the studio."
The point is not to expose Celtic fans as incapable bums but to highlight how seriously neo-Nazis view off-pitch violence.
Fast-forward to the present and Germany 2006 is almost upon us. Newspapers are full of horror stories about riots erupting between English and German hooligans and I gotta say, I'm worried too. Really worried. Not for the sanctity of law and order on German streets but for the physical well-being of the English fans. Don't laugh. This is serious.
I'm worried because British police have banned 3,500 known English hooligans from travelling to the tournament. A wise move, you'd think, but that's 3,500 of the hardest men in England. Now, only the wimps are getting to go and you can bet your bottom dollar that when they get there, Germany won't have booted out its thugs for the duration. It's like Churchill sending the Girl Guides to D-Day. Nobody would have thought that a sensible idea. Everyone knew then, and now, that the only solution was the total deployment of the American Military-Industrial Complex.
Left to rely on a bunch of pansies, however, your everyday Englishman is up the creek without a paddle - or a knuckleduster. Don't laugh, some of my best friends are English.
Left to rely on a bunch of pansies, however, your everyday Englishman is up the creek without a paddle - or a knuckleduster. Don't laugh, some of my best friends are English.
Again, don't laugh. Once you get past the arrogant self-assurance, misplaced sense of historical superiority, irrational national allegiance to an 80-year-old granny, an annoying devotion to the year 1966, their tendency to sing loudly and publicly in groups whilst drunk and a habit of calling Scottish people 'Jock', some of them are okay.
They need to think of something and they need to come up with the goods quick. Had it been the 'Jocks' going to Germany, we'd just have worn kilts and there wouldn't have been a problem. In any case, the Government would never have banned 3,500 of us from going. You see, men who wear skirts don't slag off other people's cultures so don't end up in fights. We don't feel we have a right to poke fun at others whilst looking so ridiculous.
Not the English though.
They don't wear kilts but they look just as ridiculous. German streets will be knee-deep in noisy dickheads with blistering foreheads, puke-stained England shirts and those silly St George wigs. They're gonna need body armour. You know it's all going to kick off when one pissed English prick sees a skinhead and shouts:
"Oi, Adolf. Who won the War mate? Oi Oi saveloy. Yer sausages are shite mate - suck on mine,' before he stuffs a piping hot bratwurst down his pants and has to be carted off by medics suffering third degree burns to the penis. As he's 'going home in a foockin' ambulance,' his mates, unable to defend themselves due the fact that they will be pussies, are going to get slaughtered.
Don't laugh.
All this sends the shits up me not because I truly give a toss about a load of mouthy Englishmen getting their heads kicked in but because I agreed to join them. A while back I promised Posh Dave that I would go to Germany, as an English supporter, if Scotland didn't make it to the finals. Possibly history's dumbest wager.
Thankfully Dave forgets pissed promises as quickly as I do.
