Snuck into Hampden

[ChesterPerry 472]

Heres the story for the boys that were asking in the ticket section

Now before anybody starts, I know it is immature, but when you've got 2 STs unsuccessful in the ballot, went to every cup game including Rugby park - it's a bit frustrating when you're going to miss the biggest game of the season out of pot luck.

I tried & tried & tried other ways & means for a ticket but was getting nowhere. So a couple of weeks ago I started to build a back-up plan. A few of the boys on here had been asking to hear it beforehand but I had to keep a lid on it in case anyone at Hampden or my work got wind of it.

Some of you already know where I work or what industry but I will leave it to guesswork in this post if I can - I was back at work today and so far haven't been caught.

As I said the preparations started a couple of weeks ago and involved numerous "props" I'll call them. Doctored emails from SFA employees, clip boards etc. that kind of thing.

The morning started like any other Old Firm morning of old, except this time I was ironing shirt, tie & trousers rather than my usual jeans & polo. Was looking fuckin razor sharp and I set off out into the sun about 8.45am, walking down the road with a half bottle in my pocket and a spring in my step. As I continued walking towards the station I heard the sound of a flute band playing Here Lies a Soldier, was coming from a random house on the street "Fuckin yas" I said to myself, got me gee'd right up for the day ahead.

Got to the station and I had to wait half an hour for a train. I wasn't gonny do anything for that half hour but worry myself about whether my plan to get in would work or not, so I jumped in a taxi to Glasgow Central and then a train to Mt Florida on which I polished off my half bottle.

Having arrived at Mt Florida I bumped into 3 bears from Prestonpans, one of them I remember called Calvin, and after finding out they had no spares I told them about my plan. We carried on down past the florida park and towards a carryout shop for opening at 10.

Another half bottle purchased, though I knew I had to be compos mentis for my entrance into Hampden but I suppose the nerves were getting the better of me. Anyway, me and the Prestonpans boys were getting a good laugh up a wee side lane with our cargos and were soon joined by a couple of other bears from Renfrew & Baillieston.

They all thought I was daft and/or mental and I suppose so did I, but fuck it, I was there, I'd got taxis & trains up to Hampden, was too late to back out and the plans born out of frustrations were going to be carried out regardless. That wine makes you invincible anyway lol.

Carry outs finished we headed towards Hampden for the game. Initially my plan was to blag my way in to Hospitality - to do so I had got a pal of mine who is a graphic designer to make up a mock email from an SFA employee. 

It read something like:

Quote

 

Hi Chester,

As discussed, please attend the Lomond suite around 10.30am on the day of the game and I will send ***** or ***** up to collect you. If you've any problems getting in just show the stewards this email or call me on 07123456789

Many thanks,

SFA Employee

 

I carried this in a leather bound folder along with other bits of riff raff, papers etc. Anything to make myself look legit.

Anyway, as I got myself round to the front entrance the steps were packed with people waiting to get in. Stewards at the top checking tickets before even the doors. "Here we go" I said. Showed the first steward my work pass and he let me by, leather folder under my arm. Got to another steward and for whatever reason I shat out of showing him the dodgy email and said "where's the press entrance bud?" showing my work pass again.

"Just round there at the side of the main entrance" said he.

"Fuckin jackpot" I thought to myself. "I'm in"

That "fuckin jackpot" soon turned into "fuckin bastard" as I walked through the door and there was a male & female steward standing behind a table, upon which sat a box of envelopes with names on them. Now I sell adverts for a living, I'm the furthest removed thing from a football writer youll see in your life but by this time I was committed, what was I gonny do, turn & bolt?

"Fuck it" showed the guy my work pass and he starts digging through the envelopes trying to match my name with one of them. "Nope canny find you here".

At this point it was all or nothing... "Has such & such or such & such came in yet" Just a couple of names that I thought would have been there in the press area

"Aye he's come in, come round and we'll find him" so I follow him round and Im thinking, if these 2 names I've just said actually meet me, not only will I get papped out but I'll no have my work to go to on Tuesday. But of course I was a bottle of wine to the good and having gotten so far brimming with confidence.

So we saunter round the corner into what seemed like either a restaurant or just a foyer/milling area. Small round tables with white tablecloths draped on them. Media folk everywhere. I dare not look to see if I recognised any of them and just dipped my head before saying to the steward "excuse me bud I'll need to nip to the toilet I'll catch up with you and such & such in a minute" to my surprise this didnt seem to bother the guy.

Off I dart into the toilet, still keeping the head down and straight into a cubical. Sat on the pan with my trousers still up at my waist for the next ten minutes half blootered taking daft videos and selfies of myself. For whatever reason when I got into the toilet, all the nerves etc. had fucked off and I was in a merry mindset.

So after some time passes I think "right lets go". Head out the cubical and at this point im gallus as fuck washing my hands and that "Im meant to be here" Im saying to myself lol. Anyway, just as I'm leaving the toilet theres a crowd of about 3 or 4 people walking past and through a set of doors. So i just tag on to the back of them and enter again what seems like another foyer area. Then onto another set of doors. Where am i? The fuckin concourse at the rangers end of the south stand haha. Not believing my luck I head for the first exit into the stands I see and down the stairs.

I was near enough right under the control room of hampden and I was in two minds whether to jump the wee barrier bit and disappear into the west stand. 

For whatever reason I stayed where I was, looking back up the stairs I'd come down to make sure there was no angry lookin stewards coming to huckle me.

Turned around at one point maybe about 10 mins before kick off and who do I see coming down towards me grinning like a cheshire cat? Big fuckin calvin fae prestonpans lol!! What a laugh honestly!! I've tried to add him on facebook.

And what a day it was, genuinely one of the best days of my life ever following Rangers, up there wi Manchester easy.

I'm readin this back howling wi laughter it sounds so far fetched but I promise you every word is 100% the truth.

What a day!

 

 

[chris182 6,292]

Haha, great wee story

[Orange&Blue 130]

Brilliant CP, good read

 

[Gary Wilmot's Wedding Brek 299]

Nice story, but I wouldn't admit on here that you technically committed fraud with your letter from the SFA. Might be best if this thread disappears.

[NeoGeo7 10,505]

Should be a film made on it 

not sure it's an offence though, you weren't committing identity fraud or anything. You were simply testing out how inept the stewarding at this country is.....and the results were as expected.......they are shite.

[Bigsasasfloppyhair 13,310]

14 minutes ago, ChesterPerry said:

Heres the story for the boys that were asking in the ticket section

Now before anybody starts, I know it is immature, but when you've got 2 STs unsuccessful in the ballot, went to every cup game including Rugby park - it's a bit frustrating when you're going to miss the biggest game of the season out of pot luck.

I tried & tried & tried other ways & means for a ticket but was getting nowhere. So a couple of weeks ago I started to build a back-up plan. A few of the boys on here had been asking to hear it beforehand but I had to keep a lid on it in case anyone at Hampden or my work got wind of it.

Some of you already know where I work or what industry but I will leave it to guesswork in this post if I can - I was back at work today and so far haven't been caught.

As I said the preparations started a couple of weeks ago and involved numerous "props" I'll call them. Doctored emails from SFA employees, clip boards etc. that kind of thing.

The morning started like any other Old Firm morning of old, except this time I was ironing shirt, tie & trousers rather than my usual jeans & polo. Was looking fuckin razor sharp and I set off out into the sun about 8.45am, walking down the road with a half bottle in my pocket and a spring in my step. As I continued walking towards the station I heard the sound of a flute band playing Here Lies a Soldier, was coming from a random house on the street "Fuckin yas" I said to myself, got me gee'd right up for the day ahead.

Got to the station and I had to wait half an hour for a train. I wasn't gonny do anything for that half hour but worry myself about whether my plan to get in would work or not, so I jumped in a taxi to Glasgow Central and then a train to Mt Florida on which I polished off my half bottle.

Having arrived at Mt Florida I bumped into 3 bears from Prestonpans, one of them I remember called Calvin, and after finding out they had no spares I told them about my plan. We carried on down past the florida park and towards a carryout shop for opening at 10.

Another half bottle purchased, though I knew I had to be compos mentis for my entrance into Hampden but I suppose the nerves were getting the better of me. Anyway, me and the Prestonpans boys were getting a good laugh up a wee side lane with our cargos and were soon joined by a couple of other bears from Renfrew & Baillieston.

They all thought I was daft and/or mental and I suppose so did I, but fuck it, I was there, I'd got taxis & trains up to Hampden, was too late to back out and the plans born out of frustrations were going to be carried out regardless. That wine makes you invincible anyway lol.

Carry outs finished we headed towards Hampden for the game. Initially my plan was to blag my way in to Hospitality - to do so I had got a pal of mine who is a graphic designer to make up a mock email from an SFA employee. 

It read something like:

I carried this in a leather bound folder along with other bits of riff raff, papers etc. Anything to make myself look legit.

Anyway, as I got myself round to the front entrance the steps were packed with people waiting to get in. Stewards at the top checking tickets before even the doors. "Here we go" I said. Showed the first steward my work pass and he let me by, leather folder under my arm. Got to another steward and for whatever reason I shat out of showing him the dodgy email and said "where's the press entrance bud?" showing my work pass again.

"Just round there at the side of the main entrance" said he.

"Fuckin jackpot" I thought to myself. "I'm in"

That "fuckin jackpot" soon turned into "fuckin bastard" as I walked through the door and there was a male & female steward standing behind a table, upon which sat a box of envelopes with names on them. Now I sell adverts for a living, I'm the furthest removed thing from a football writer youll see in your life but by this time I was committed, what was I gonny do, turn & bolt?

"Fuck it" showed the guy my work pass and he starts digging through the envelopes trying to match my name with one of them. "Nope canny find you here".

At this point it was all or nothing... "Has such & such or such & such came in yet" Just a couple of names that I thought would have been there in the press area

"Aye he's come in, come round and we'll find him" so I follow him round and Im thinking, if these 2 names I've just said actually meet me, not only will I get papped out but I'll no have my work to go to on Tuesday. But of course I was a bottle of wine to the good and having gotten so far brimming with confidence.

So we saunter round the corner into what seemed like either a restaurant or just a foyer/milling area. Small round tables with white tablecloths draped on them. Media folk everywhere. I dare not look to see if I recognised any of them and just dipped my head before saying to the steward "excuse me bud I'll need to nip to the toilet I'll catch up with you and such & such in a minute" to my surprise this didnt seem to bother the guy.

Off I dart into the toilet, still keeping the head down and straight into a cubical. Sat on the pan with my trousers still up at my waist for the next ten minutes half blootered taking daft videos and selfies of myself. For whatever reason when I got into the toilet, all the nerves etc. had fucked off and I was in a merry mindset.

So after some time passes I think "right lets go". Head out the cubical and at this point im gallus as fuck washing my hands and that "Im meant to be here" Im saying to myself lol. Anyway, just as I'm leaving the toilet theres a crowd of about 3 or 4 people walking past and through a set of doors. So i just tag on to the back of them and enter again what seems like another foyer area. Then onto another set of doors. Where am i? The fuckin concourse at the rangers end of the south stand haha. Not believing my luck I head for the first exit into the stands I see and down the stairs.

I was near enough right under the control room of hampden and I was in two minds whether to jump the wee barrier bit and disappear into the west stand. 

For whatever reason I stayed where I was, looking back up the stairs I'd come down to make sure there was no angry lookin stewards coming to huckle me.

Turned around at one point maybe about 10 mins before kick off and who do I see coming down towards me grinning like a cheshire cat? Big fuckin calvin fae prestonpans lol!! What a laugh honestly!! I've tried to add him on facebook.

And what a day it was, genuinely one of the best days of my life ever following Rangers, up there wi Manchester easy.

I'm readin this back howling wi laughter it sounds so far fetched but I promise you every word is 100% the truth.

What a day!

 

 

Ya tight bastard!!

[ChesterPerry 472]

3 minutes ago, Gary Wilmot's Wedding Brek said:

Nice story, but I wouldn't admit on here that you technically committed fraud with your letter from the SFA. Might be best if this thread disappears.

I never used it mate. Printed it out etc. but I never showed it to anybody other than a few pals 

[PRW. 5,631]

ahahaha that is utter class

[Escobar 13,676]

Fake.

[daverfc13 175]

Genius ?? Anything to watch the famous??

[SuperPapac05 3,383]

 

Give you credit, I'd have shat it when I saw the envelopes and ran away. 

[Gaz52 11,837]

6 minutes ago, Gary Wilmot's Wedding Brek said:

Nice story, but I wouldn't admit on here that you technically committed fraud with your letter from the SFA. Might be best if this thread disappears.

They'd never be able to prove it as I imagine it's destroyed and no steward is going to say they seen it are they? 

[BridgeIsBlue 66,606]

Do shops not sell drink at 12 on Sundays anymore?

[The Rangers FC 751]

A story for the grandweans 

[ChesterPerry 472]

3 minutes ago, BridgeIsBlue said:

Do shops not sell drink at 12 on Sundays anymore?

The florida park wasnt opening til 11 but the carryout shops up the road started selling at 10

[SteppsGer84 102]

Pleasure meeting you on Sunday mate top man ?? I remember u phoning me buzzing saying 'I'm in the fuckin toilets in the press room, how the fuck can I get round to the West Stand ?' ??

[NeoGeo7 10,505]

23 minutes ago, BridgeIsBlue said:

Do shops not sell drink at 12 on Sundays anymore?

Retracted the busted comment, it's supermarkets that elect to sell after 12 on a Sunday, the law states 10.

[William McBeath 2,154]

30 minutes ago, ChesterPerry said:

 

 

 

Well done mate

That beats anything I've heard about sneaking in to games. Fully deserved too if you went to all the games beforehand and for all the effort put into the plan.    

[giffnockger 4,840]

33 minutes ago, ChesterPerry said:

Heres the story for the boys that were asking in the ticket section

Now before anybody starts, I know it is immature, but when you've got 2 STs unsuccessful in the ballot, went to every cup game including Rugby park - it's a bit frustrating when you're going to miss the biggest game of the season out of pot luck.

I tried & tried & tried other ways & means for a ticket but was getting nowhere. So a couple of weeks ago I started to build a back-up plan. A few of the boys on here had been asking to hear it beforehand but I had to keep a lid on it in case anyone at Hampden or my work got wind of it.

Some of you already know where I work or what industry but I will leave it to guesswork in this post if I can - I was back at work today and so far haven't been caught.

As I said the preparations started a couple of weeks ago and involved numerous "props" I'll call them. Doctored emails from SFA employees, clip boards etc. that kind of thing.

The morning started like any other Old Firm morning of old, except this time I was ironing shirt, tie & trousers rather than my usual jeans & polo. Was looking fuckin razor sharp and I set off out into the sun about 8.45am, walking down the road with a half bottle in my pocket and a spring in my step. As I continued walking towards the station I heard the sound of a flute band playing Here Lies a Soldier, was coming from a random house on the street "Fuckin yas" I said to myself, got me gee'd right up for the day ahead.

Got to the station and I had to wait half an hour for a train. I wasn't gonny do anything for that half hour but worry myself about whether my plan to get in would work or not, so I jumped in a taxi to Glasgow Central and then a train to Mt Florida on which I polished off my half bottle.

Having arrived at Mt Florida I bumped into 3 bears from Prestonpans, one of them I remember called Calvin, and after finding out they had no spares I told them about my plan. We carried on down past the florida park and towards a carryout shop for opening at 10.

Another half bottle purchased, though I knew I had to be compos mentis for my entrance into Hampden but I suppose the nerves were getting the better of me. Anyway, me and the Prestonpans boys were getting a good laugh up a wee side lane with our cargos and were soon joined by a couple of other bears from Renfrew & Baillieston.

They all thought I was daft and/or mental and I suppose so did I, but fuck it, I was there, I'd got taxis & trains up to Hampden, was too late to back out and the plans born out of frustrations were going to be carried out regardless. That wine makes you invincible anyway lol.

Carry outs finished we headed towards Hampden for the game. Initially my plan was to blag my way in to Hospitality - to do so I had got a pal of mine who is a graphic designer to make up a mock email from an SFA employee. 

It read something like:

I carried this in a leather bound folder along with other bits of riff raff, papers etc. Anything to make myself look legit.

Anyway, as I got myself round to the front entrance the steps were packed with people waiting to get in. Stewards at the top checking tickets before even the doors. "Here we go" I said. Showed the first steward my work pass and he let me by, leather folder under my arm. Got to another steward and for whatever reason I shat out of showing him the dodgy email and said "where's the press entrance bud?" showing my work pass again.

"Just round there at the side of the main entrance" said he.

"Fuckin jackpot" I thought to myself. "I'm in"

That "fuckin jackpot" soon turned into "fuckin bastard" as I walked through the door and there was a male & female steward standing behind a table, upon which sat a box of envelopes with names on them. Now I sell adverts for a living, I'm the furthest removed thing from a football writer youll see in your life but by this time I was committed, what was I gonny do, turn & bolt?

"Fuck it" showed the guy my work pass and he starts digging through the envelopes trying to match my name with one of them. "Nope canny find you here".

At this point it was all or nothing... "Has such & such or such & such came in yet" Just a couple of names that I thought would have been there in the press area

"Aye he's come in, come round and we'll find him" so I follow him round and Im thinking, if these 2 names I've just said actually meet me, not only will I get papped out but I'll no have my work to go to on Tuesday. But of course I was a bottle of wine to the good and having gotten so far brimming with confidence.

So we saunter round the corner into what seemed like either a restaurant or just a foyer/milling area. Small round tables with white tablecloths draped on them. Media folk everywhere. I dare not look to see if I recognised any of them and just dipped my head before saying to the steward "excuse me bud I'll need to nip to the toilet I'll catch up with you and such & such in a minute" to my surprise this didnt seem to bother the guy.

Off I dart into the toilet, still keeping the head down and straight into a cubical. Sat on the pan with my trousers still up at my waist for the next ten minutes half blootered taking daft videos and selfies of myself. For whatever reason when I got into the toilet, all the nerves etc. had fucked off and I was in a merry mindset.

So after some time passes I think "right lets go". Head out the cubical and at this point im gallus as fuck washing my hands and that "Im meant to be here" Im saying to myself lol. Anyway, just as I'm leaving the toilet theres a crowd of about 3 or 4 people walking past and through a set of doors. So i just tag on to the back of them and enter again what seems like another foyer area. Then onto another set of doors. Where am i? The fuckin concourse at the rangers end of the south stand haha. Not believing my luck I head for the first exit into the stands I see and down the stairs.

I was near enough right under the control room of hampden and I was in two minds whether to jump the wee barrier bit and disappear into the west stand. 

For whatever reason I stayed where I was, looking back up the stairs I'd come down to make sure there was no angry lookin stewards coming to huckle me.

Turned around at one point maybe about 10 mins before kick off and who do I see coming down towards me grinning like a cheshire cat? Big fuckin calvin fae prestonpans lol!! What a laugh honestly!! I've tried to add him on facebook.

And what a day it was, genuinely one of the best days of my life ever following Rangers, up there wi Manchester easy.

I'm readin this back howling wi laughter it sounds so far fetched but I promise you every word is 100% the truth.

What a day!

 

 

Fucking class mate !!! No surrender

[Dietspam 733]

[ChesterPerry 472]

13 minutes ago, SteppsGer84 said:

Pleasure meeting you on Sunday mate top man ?? I remember u phoning me buzzing saying 'I'm in the fuckin toilets in the press room, how the fuck can I get round to the West Stand ?' ??

And you mate. Honestly I don't remember phoning you but I vaguely remember u sending me a picture message in hampden with your hibs v dundee hibs ticket. 

[BEE 4,880]

Did Calvin have a Russian girlfriend too?

[ianb1547 3,767]

I hope you send a cheque to sfa for the requisite amount to observe the Glasgow Rangers destroy that shower from the east.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ok....maybe just an extra rising star then.....well done mate

[Callum_rfc 85]

Superb mate. 

[ChesterPerry 472]

Moral of the story - tick the fuckin box !