Rangers and the Famous ICF: My Life With Scotland's Most-Feared Football Hooligan Gang by Sandy Chugg

Author:Sandy Chugg [Chugg, Sandy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Soccer, Football, Non-Fiction
ISBN: 9781905769292
Publisher: Fort Publishing Ltd
Published: 2011-10-03T23:00:00+00:00

Kilmarnock

I wouldn’t put Kilmarnock’s mob in remotely the same league as the Motherwell Saturday Service but they had a couple of reasonably good years in the mid Nineties.17 However, my first skirmish with them was 1986, when they were in the lower leagues. Six of us Rangers Soccer Babes, all from the east end, got the bus into the city centre and got off at George Square. The plan was to hook up with more RSB at our usual meeting place in St Enoch Square and look for someone, anyone, to fight. We didn’t expect to meet a mob of Kilmarnock on the way – Rangers weren’t playing them – but that’s exactly what happened. On our way to St Enoch’s we ran into thirty boys, obviously casuals, and although at that point we didn’t have a clue which club they were attached to we weren’t going to let that stand in our way.

There were more of them and they were older and bigger than us. But with the confidence of youth we threw caution to the wind and steamed in. It was a disaster. I got decked and on my way down I took a few more punches and kicks. In fact all six of us got a kicking before the Killie boys decided they had taught us enough of a lesson and went to catch their train. Bruised, battered and groggy we got up and inspected our injuries. I discovered that I had a burst nose, a chipped tooth and a black eye and that my five pals were in a similar state. What made me even angrier, however, was that one of the sleeves on my bright-red-and-blue Aquascutum shirt was caked in dirt. Those fucking Ayrshire bastards! That shirt was my pride and joy.

As we cleaned up in Buchanan Street public toilets we agreed that Kilmarnock were not going to get away with turning us over in the middle of our city. Given their age and the numbers they had with them it was a suicide mission but we were fucking raging. We sprinted round to Queen Street and caught them at the low-level station, where they now had a police escort.

‘We want a rematch,’ we demanded.

They didn’t take us entirely seriously.

‘Fuck off wee men. Did you not have enough round the corner?’ one of them sneered.

His mate was a bit more complimentary.

‘Fair play to you, wee men. You’re keen but youse have no chance.’

By this time the cops had seen what we were up to and we were told to get lost or we would be locked up. We got lost.

As I said Killie were at their peak in the mid Nineties and in a two-year period between April 1994 and May 1996 we had three outstanding offs with them. The first was on 10 April 1994, when we met them at Hampden in a Scottish Cup semi-final. The game was a rather drab goalless draw and to spice things up we went to look for

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