
11 October 1997, the Olimpico. Italy 0, England 0, and we were going to France 98. I never saw a ball kicked in the first half, we was in their end! Within 10 minutes of being in a bar we was having running battles. We took the piss.
England, absolutely everywhere.
Rome was fantastic. I went with my mate Butch Alboni, an Arsenal pal of mine, my mate James Wild aka Plug, Cockney Red, Levy (did Levy come? I think Levy come, now lives in Australia, Chelsea), and my old cousin Barry Costa.
Anyway, we get there. Honestly, we're in this little bar. We ain't been in there two minutes. We've been in there about 10 minutes maximum, if that, eight minutes, right? All of a sudden, I went to him, "This is it." He went, "Shut up, mate." I said, "I'm telling you, this is it." I'm at the front of the door, and all of a sudden, they've come.
Anyway, they didn't want to know after fronting us and seeing England come from everywhere. England, absolutely everywhere.
And do you know something? We had tickets for their end. We get in their end. Colossal amount of England in their end. And honestly, I didn't see a ball kicked for the first 45 minutes. Never saw a ball kicked.
Anyway, we got through. Up the England!
Jason