Brits abroad are known to have somewhat of an infamous reputation – especially when it involves visiting large European cities to watch games of football.

When I read accounts of the behaviour of British football supporters overseas, I generally roll my eyes and think “what a bunch of pillocks”. Thankfully, I can distance any association between the louts and myself, enough to say that I do not feel embarrassed by my own countrymen.

However, if any of the misbehaving yobs were fans of my teams, I would find myself burying my head in my hands. I support Leeds United and Bath City, so luckily, I have no worries of my fellow fans getting into mischief abroad – there is more chance of Nigel Farage joining the European elite than either of my teams.

Tête la merde

Generally, my recollection of football thugs abroad involves drunkards throwing chairs, smashing shop windows and singing about shooting Nazi war planes from out of the sky. Their grandfathers may have brought a plane down, but they wouldn’t stand a chance themselves. Just because they played Lylat Wars on their Nintendo, as a child, they think they’re James Bigglesworth. Thank goodness we’re not at war with Germany now, because if we were dependant upon the lager-swiggers to fight for our freedom, Hitler would win.

I digress. When I used the word ‘recollection’ I was not referring to my own personal experiences abroad! Whenever the England national football team are involved in a major international tournament, I am sure that, like me, you will have noticed all the television news reports – probably exaggerated – about how Brits can’t handle their ale and are putting the country to shame again, by singing ‘God Save the Queen’, while attempting (and failing) to climb the Arc de Triomphe.

Despite all this naughtiness, until today, I am yet to hear of a football fan removing his clothes and performing an act which I can only describe as ‘playing with himself’. Did I mention that while he was fiddling with his meat and two veg, he was being watched and cheered on by an adoring crowd?

This is Mike Bassett (former England manager). The real stripper is far too lewd to post on this family blog.

A second story involving football fans abroad caught my eye this week. This time, no supporter was causing any trouble – although I would be wrong if I said that they weren’t taking the piss.

This report is as sad as it is disgusting. Although I guess that it depends on what football team you support. In this case, the fans involved follow Liverpool. Therefore, Manchester United supporters would probably find it funny. Likewise, if the same happened to them, I’d find it fecking hilarious.

The unfortunate Liverpool fans were travelling from England to Madrid, to watch the Champions League final. During the journey, their coach developed a fault, somehow causing the contents of the on-board toilet to leak into the luggage compartment, saturating all the suitcases in urine.

Anyone who has had to use a coach toilet will know they stink to high heaven. I did once. After that, I swore to myself that I would never use the facilities again and would just hold my wee-wee in, even if it meant my bladder exploding.

The coach trips I took involved domestic travel and a maximum journey time of four hours each way. Merseyside to Madrid lasted 30 hours! Given that the coach was transporting excitable football supporters, a lot of on-board drinking was no doubt involved. Lots of drinking equals lots of weeing. Lots of weeing into a broken toilet equals lots of smelly mess!

You just have to feel for them. At least they won the game…