The 2002 Triple Header

Triple Maniacs vs Common Sense: 0 - 3

By: Velcro & Teflon

For an explanation of the shovel rating system, head here.
"Going nuts for three days"
by Velcro

Back in December when the schedule was released it seemed like such a simple idea, Amsterdam vs Berlin on Friday, Rhein vs Barcelona on Saturday and Scotland vs Frankfurt on Sunday. The execution of the said plan was anything but that simple.

For the Amsterdam group the Triple Header started in a very simple, quiet and actually very pleasant fashion with a day off work for all of us - except Ton who for some strange reason prefered work to beer for a day. The Hell of Shame were charged with the job of purchasing Train Tickets for the next day - sometimes forward planning actually works you know!! Whilst Velcro aided and abetted by Ian the Brussels Monarchs went in search of the Food necessary to provide us all with the basis for the weekend. Many Euros found their way into the pocket of the Velcro´s local butcher before we were satisfied with the preparations. By this time it was a requirement to adjurn to the pub for lunch and the official kickoff to the weekend - beer in The Globe. Shortly after this mottley crew had made their way to the pub the first of the out of towners (other than Ian who had been in Amsterdam all week) arrived on the scene, with Roy the Mad Hatter, famous for his hats arrived. As soon as he was safely ensconced in The Globe with his beer his "creation" made its first appearance of the weekend, now I´ve heard that two heads are better than one - but the thought of all four heads having a hangover simultaneously just frightens me. Nevertheless we were amazed by the sheer lunacy of this weeks headgear.

Moving swiftly along Velcro and Garbage arranged to transfer the BBQ equipment to the non-drinking transportational vehicle and headed for the stadium. A modest entry fee and we were quickly paked up some 150 metres from the Power Party Stage armed with enough meat to feed the entire Dutch Army and copious quantities of beer. Others arrived soon after and soon the pre-game tailgating was underway. Friends from all over NFL Europe soon descended upon us, The Bowl Hunters from Berlin, and the World Famous John and Montse of Sitges Sack A number of Fire fans together with the regular Amsterdam Nut House and of course the ever present Monarchs Fans led by the indomitable Phil King. Finally just before 7:00pm the Dirty Dozen were complete and ready to officially kick off the weekend. It was the aim to photograph the entire group in front of each stadium before each game and the Amsterdam photo was quickly dealt with.

The first truly bizarre moment occurred when Roy was appointed the evening´s Tosser. Normally this is not a complimentary name, but in this case it was as it meant that Roy would actually toss the coin before the game. We all made our way to the field escorted by a rather pensive looking Hubert Bedford, who seeing the Dirty Dozen was obviously scared that something terrible was going to happen. Standing on the Sidelines whilst the players were introduced was definitely a spine tingling moment for us Admirals and I was sure glad that I wasn´t tossing the coin. So with Triple Header hat perched on his head Roy led us out to midfield for the coin toss. What followed was absolutely surreal at the time, but Amsterdam won the toss and then promptly lost the game 9-28. It was a shocker - if you want to know the details see the match report for details.

After the game some of the group returned to The Globe, Roy, Ian, Garbage, Niki, Michel and Velcro - together with John and Montse and Monica all made it there. The remainder of the Claymores found that their hotel was further out of town than they had expected and never made it. Ton disappeared to go to bed early and get some sleep something that would be in short supply for the remainder of the tour. A night in The Globe finally ended with Velcro being the first to give up and o home at 3:00am with the others following sometime later.

Before we knew where we were it ws 8:20am on Saturday morning. Niki and Michel were underway from Monica´s on the outskirts of town. Ton was on his way from the outer reaches of Gaasperplaas and Roy and Ian finally managed to escape from Hotel Velcro. We met all the others who stayed in Amsterdam that night, except for Michael who decided to take a later train just so he could travel on the ICE rather than a normal train. After a swift breakfast of croissants and beer we were safely enscounced in the smoking section of coach number 79 en route to Interlaken in Switzerland, but fortunately for us would also stop in Dusseldorf. Not so fortunately Ian and Michel choose the two smallest seats reserved for us much to everybody elses amuzement. The Dutch border was reached without any serious problems, although we did meet a railway guard who could say, "Tickets Please", in just about every language we knew - and in some we couldn´t. Of course the Lardy Boys in the corner had to pay a supplement for their seats on the train, although I think everyone else should have been paying a supplement for all the entertainment we were having. One moment does stick out in our minds when the Japanese tourist asked which team we supported Roy answered, with a straight face mind you, 5 teams. Laura for Fire, John and Montse for Dragons, Ian for the Monarchs, Roy and the Lardies for The Claymore and Trench Crew / Hell of Shame for Amsterdam for those keeping score.

After crossing the border, the man from the restaurant car who was delivering coffee was prevailed upon to deliver beer which he did with some aplomb. However I guess the tip wasn´t big enough as two minutes later the train did an emergency stop and several beers were in fact spilled. After cleaning up the spilt beer we arrived in Dusseldorf with dignity intact - well as much dignity as we had left was intact. A pitstop was required before proceeding to the Rheinstadion and the Louisiana in the Altstadt was the targeted venue for the first Alt beer of the day - and a large Alt beer it was too. Oh yeah we had some food as well.

With our stomachs safely filled off we went to the Rheinstadion where Marc met us with the news that the Fire had given us free tickets for the VIP section waya at the top of the stadium. Another pre-game party was attended. This was somewhat quieter than normal due to the fact that it was the last day of the German Soccer season. The Fire had even erected a large screen TV for anyone wanting to watch the game, but many people seemed to be content with listening to the game on the radio whilst induldging in that most favoured of pastimes - drinking Schlosser Alt in large quantities.

Just around 18:30 another gameday photo was taken, this was it - we were going to make it as far as game number two. The Fire PR staff escorted us to the field and announced that rather than carry the gameball on to the field as was previously suggested one of our number would toss the coin. Garbage being the local German Speaker was nominated for job - especially as we waited to enter the field a large section of Block G - the infamous Velbert on Fire was hurling abuse in his direction. The introduction of the Pyromaniacs, who were good looking, and the Dragons, who weren´t, took place right next to us so we had a grandstand view of the goings on. Then the Fire were brought onto the field, and the closer you get to those flamethrowers the hotter they get. By this time Garbage is exibiting pre-game nerves as get gets ready to be the Saturday Tosser. We all file on to the field (again) and garbage is handed the coin. I could swear he is going to drop it, but manages to get a toss off in time before being called for a False Start and the Dragons win the toss and opt to receive. This is also the last thing the Dragons will win all night, as now the heavens open and its "Fire Weather". The game is still close at the end of the first quarter, but after that its all one way traffic with the Fire running out easy winners 31-3.

After the game we hang around for a while desparately hoping that the rains will stop, but to no avail. Garbage is soaked as he forsook his VIP seat to be in his regular spot, but the rest of us are dry - if a little cold. Eventually we give in and the rain will not go away, but the Tram queues have disappeared and we wend our way back into the city. Being the sensible Triple Headerers that we are we opt for food in a small restaurant near the Knoten (except for me, I went straight to the Alt! -Teflon). On advice from Garbage we order the Schnitzel - which turns out to be only slightly smaller than the field at the Rheinstadion. Only Ian can complete the job and finish his, some of the rest of us could only manage about half - but it was absolutely scrummy. As it was then on to the Knoten for the Saturday Night Party. After arriving slightly before midnight we immediately get stuck in the crowd that makes up the Knoten Crowd and start trying to drink beer and dance with out getting our beer spilt or any part of our bodies broken in the crush.

As tends to happen, at around 2.00am some of the less hardcore people start drifting off to bed - Good Night Lardy Boys - Michael and Marc having not made it this far. We are reduced to seven of the original Dirty Dozen who must see it though to 5:00am. Shortly after 2:00am Niki and Michel are in a bad way - they are falling asleep and despite our best efforts we are unable to keep them awake. (Fortunately, Michel perks up a bit when he manages to pull an attractive German girl. I will be nice and not post any of the incriminating pictures! -Teflon). We are now in an emergency situation. Fortunately Montse knows just what to do and two turns of, "Follow The Leader", with Montse deputising for The Leader who still has his snout in a glass of Schlosser spirts and energy are restored. Time flies when you are having fun and before we know what is happening, the Knoten is playing Metallica´s Nothing Else Matters, well we sure as heck don´t. And then we are picking up our bags and heading to Dusseldorf Airport, and we are all jealous of John and Montse who are both headed to bed.

Its still raining when we arrive in Dusseldorf to check in for the Flights to Amsterdam and on to Edinburgh. It is only at this time that we realise we have no Alt to take to Scotland with us to ensure we can remain inembrientated for as long as possible. We board an aircraft with propellers for the trip to Amsterdam and we pass out immediately, or in my case almost immediately as I have to listen to the Emergency Exit instructions before I took can find oblivion. The pilot must have spotted the landing on the smoothest flight ever as no-one remembers it, and most look at Roy in shock when he informs us that we missed Orange Juice and Biscuits. A two hour layover at Schiphol - Velcro´s favourite airport. NOT!, allows us to get a little more sleep, thankfully Ton & Niki were paying attention or else we would all have missed the flight. We climb on board another aircraft and try to grab the last bit of sleep we can before getting ready for Game 3. When we awake at the Scottish Border we all get a rather rude surprise - its actually Sunny and Warm in Edinburgh, even though its still raining in Edinburgh.

On arrival in Edinburgh, we follow some bum information and end up having to phoine the hotel to find out where it is. A pleasant walk though the sunny centre of Edinburgh follows until we locate the said establishment. However there is aproblem - we cannot check into the hotel until 2:00pm, by which time the Power Party will be in full swing. Michel obviously feeling the effects of the night takes off to change his underwear whilst we all dump our bags in the bag storage room. When Michel arrives they refuse to accept his bag for the bag storage room as it is a, "Breach of Fire Regulations". However by the grace of all that is NFL Europe Colin and Jane Letchford pick this moment to arrive in the hotel lobby and were pressganged into allow Michel to dump his bag - dirty underwear and all - in their room. Then with baggage stowed we headed towards the stadium. By this point it is obvious that all is not right with the group as people choose to eat sandwiches from a Petrol Station rather than take on the greasy fried breakfast so beloved in Scotland. (They did not have greasy fried food there! -Teflon) Velcro though did manage to score his first Irn-Bru since landing in Scotland.

The procession continues along Corstorphine Road until the original gameday drinking hole in Scotland, The Murrayfield House Hotel, is reached. We arrive to be greeted by many people we know - and some that are just totally shocked to see us still upright. It is now just before 1:00pm (2:00pm CET, approximately 7 hours since we left the Knoten). Beer is served as we orientate ourselves to the strange currency that is in no way Euro like. After trading stories of the goings on of the weekend we head over to the Backfield at Murrayfield. Now Preston leads us tragically arrie by telling us that the best seats are in West 17. OK so that's where you are Preston - but Triple Headerers want Sun. (But we also want drinks, and sitting near Preston meant that he was able to do a few supply runs with a bottle of, lets day, cola.. - Teflon) Just because you ended your Triple in Barcelona. The Pre-Game Party is like many others in Scotland. The Scots are trying to explain the concept of the Beer Tent to the others and Rock Steady Security are still, well you know Rock Steady Security. After drinking Alt in Dusseldorf the Coors available at Murrayfield is not slipping down well at all and we are all left regretting the failure to acquire more Alt in Dusseldorf before departure.

Finally its game time and we take our seats, well stand in front of the seats that are located directly in front of the Stats Booth. Off to our left is the irrepressable Nick Halling wearing a suit and white sneakers accompanied by a very dapper, and very large Kevin Gogan. The stats crew are no strangers to us with the Milroy´s (Lynda and Kenny) in attendance along with Shuggie from the Cheddarheads. To our left are the West Coast drunks that are Zanzibar. Across the stadium in the warm sun we can see that the Lardy Boys are complete so they made it too. As the game is in progress the back row make every effort to enjoy the game before them, which is not easy given the tripe being served up by both teams. The stats crew confirm to us via messages how bad it is, Scott Dreisbach completes 2 passes in the first half, and Frankfurt has a Field Goal blocked. The second half in enlivened only by counting the Worst Ever……. statistics that the Scotland Offense appears determined to break. They must have heard that Velcro had just obtained this years official stat book and therefore it must be rendered useless as soon as possible. In the end The Galaxy run out winners of a truly horrible game 10-14. Scotland set records for fewest yards offense (60) and First Downs in a game (3). The Galaxy transpired to blow 3 FG attempts and in the end it was rubbish. Much fun was had in the second halfd by the Dirty Dozen attempting to reducde the Stats Crew, and all around us, into howls of laughter as we direct comments to everyone - except Kevin Gogan who is just too big and too nasty to risk messing with.

At the final gun, we all wind our way to the meeting point where we will shoot the last stadium photo to prove that we all did three games in three days. However on entering the East Stand to take the final picture in the Sun we are immediately confronted by Rock Steady Security ording us to get out the stadium immediately. What a lovely end to the Official Part of the weekend. Of course there is another party to go to, which turns into three parts. The first starts at the Murrayfield Wanderers Rugby Club, but it isn´t really a party as people are still in shock over the game. So shocked is Niki that he knocks over a pint of beer, so quickly it's a return to the Murrayfield House for beer in what is left of the Sun. This cheers people up, and of course we are all now in full flow of story telling. The Amsterdam Contingent is also trying to keep up with everyone asking for travel information for the following weekend, and soon it is past 8:00pm. (I manage to lose my third bandana of the season, as I donate my scarf to Alan's son James after he asks me if I hurt my head because I have it bandaged the whole time. Of course the thought that this act might motivate Alan to donate even more Scotch, never entered my mind! -Teflon) Taxi´s are ordered and we wind our way to The Standing Room bar. Some people eat there while still others pile round the corner for a slightly quieter Chinese Rice Table. On return to the bar we are shocked to discover that Teflon is indeed the worse for wear. He is very definitely drunk and not walking in a straight line - oh the shock and the shame of it. But now its time to go our separate ways.

The Amsterdam Crew, return to the hotel to complete the checking in process and to discover that the Letchfords have been smart enough to leave Michel´s bag downstairs - very smart. We all retire to bed at around 00:00 most then 36 hours since we last saw a bed. The following morning is a simple question of getting to the airport in Edinburgh and getting home. Getting to the airport is easy, but Garbage has to check his bag as he has his penknife with him - silly boy. There then follows a burst of shopping for books and DVDs by Velcro and Garbage, before retiring the the Burger King. This time Michel manages to spill Velcro´s beer just to complete the weekend. Then boarding the plane we are on the way home after three games, three pre-game parties, three total piss-ups, two coin tosses and a BBQ.