The worst mob I've ever seen at Home Park was Chelsea around 1975. I remember being in the Demport End about an hour before kick off and there was a crowd of 20 - 30 Chelsea fans being evicted by the police from the Lyndhurst Road end, which was where the away fans were kept at that time. As they passed the fence that seperated the Demport End and Lyndhurst side the Argyle fans ran forward to take the p1ss out of them and suddenly 40 or 50 Chelse fans ran into the Demport End from the rear entrance and started to batter any Argyle fan in front of them. It was so well organised that it caused complete panic and mayhem amongst the Green Army. The police didn't have a clue and ran into the melee with truncheons waving, clattering whoever was in front of them, adding to the confusion.
Me? I was a skinny 15 year old with no bottle and I promptly pood myself. Then and I leapt over the front fence onto the pitch to be met by a steward who told me I couldn't come onto the pitch and he tried to push me back into the Demport End. Nob!! There were hundreds of us on the hallowed turf.
To this day, I cannot understand how the police didn't spot 40 or 50 Chelsea fans congregating behind the Demport End.
Years later I was talking to a Chelsea fan from that era and he admitted thatit was a regular tactic, especially at away games. One group of fans would cause a disturbance at the front and another group would rush the opposing fans from behind and feed off the panic.
Happy days. Does anybody else remember this? :shock: :?[/quote
yes i remember this, we used to travel up from par on the train, baker trousers, doc martins, scarfs hanging off our waist, gosh we were hard,aged 15. nobody would mess with us, if we wanted to throw bog rolls off the tamar bridge from the train we did. but after the game we got into our six/8 seater carriage out of breath due to running luck flip to get on the train only to find it was full of chealsea fans . this is the point we also pood ourselves, thankfully they looked at us ,legs against the door trying to keep it shut, looking pale and left us alone. by the time we crossed the tamar we were back to our old hard self, slinging bog rolls once again, scary day but good tales to tell at school on monday. happy days