2008 Old Boys Weekend (Fri/Sat)
‘The Fall and Rise of the BV3’


Well, what can be said about Old Boys 2008? It’s certainly one that will live long in the memory for a number of reasons!!! I’ve tried to capture as many highlights as I can remember, but would be grateful for any input to fill the gaps (no pun intended). So here we go…


Friday, 25th April

Ok, so this was a week before Old Boys, but thought I’d mention anyway that Small Paul and Adie went to Time in what they assured me was a ‘recce’ on behalf of Old Boys weekend. Not much to tell, except Small left with a girl from Holyhead and Adie went home with a rather large lady. Fortunately for him, the removal of her garments sobered him up before any damage was done and he told the young lady he was no longer interested (or so I’m told).

Now for the real thing….


Friday, 2nd May pm

Having not been there myself, I need your input for this one, so let me know of any recollections. Small Paul, Adie and Mickey Donnelly checked in to the Palace of (Straight) Love and called me on their way there. Mickey was a gentleman as always and told me I was a c*nt for not being there. I told him I’d get him c*nted before the weekend was over, and I believe I stayed true to my word (see Sunday pics). I’ve been told the Friday night consisted of the usual joy of catching up with old mates, and a good Old Boys presence in Time, therefore it’s apparent the weekend got off to a flyer. Nice one!!

Saturday, 3rd May (very early) am

On the campsite in Treborth, Tom Hoppitt is spotted crawling around stark-b*ll*ck naked. McTavish wonders why, then realises it’s Old Boys and goes back to sleep. Elsewhere, Dave fails in his bid to crawl to Mike’s Bites…

Saturday am

Myself and Jon Phillips make our way through the A55 traffic, looking forward to a cracking weekend. A number of texts hit my phone, highlighting the fact the Old Boys are up for this one. Small Paul calls to confirm he and the boys are relaxing in the Palace, watching A Night at the Roxbury whilst sipping Gin (at 11am). We had just one thing to do along the way – pick up THE T-Shirts! Initially, when Phil had ordered them I thought he’d said they were green. However, as the pics show, he wanted us to be noticed and remembered. Little did he know we’d be remembered for much more by Monday morning!!!


Saturday pm

With the T-Shirts in the boot, we arrive in Bangor and meet up with McTavish and Tommy Hoppitt (who has already had c. 8 bottles of lager). We settle in Paddy’s for a few bottles (many, actually) and a Jaeger-bomb (thanks Scorch)! Watching Sky Sports News, Tommy briefly mentions that if Nottingham Forest are promoted, he has agreed to lick McTavish’s crown jewels. I laugh and wonder just how many he’s had! Slowly but surely a crowd emerges and we’re all ready for the night ahead. The small crowd catches up for a few in the Menai, where the T-Shirts are on display. Most people take one look and wonder “why the f*ck are they orange?” but put them on anyway. Jon Phillips is distracted by the arrival of Mike Taylor – not a football old boy, but notorious for challenging even the most hardened drinkers. And beating them. With that in mind, the crowd wish Phillips luck and make their way to Rascals, a few of us already a bit worse for wear.
In Rascals, we meet up with yet more Old Boys eager to join in the fun. However, it emerges that Aaron Dunne has made a fatal error – underwear. Upon inspection, the underwear is found to be possibly the worst in history and as a result, Mr Chairman – in part disgust, part pity – offers Mr Dunne the opportunity to remove the garment, rather than have it wrapped from sack to shoulders, Borat style. Anyone of sound mind would surely accept the consequences and remove said garment in a flash, but not Mr Dunne…. In a final act of desparation, he mentions that his young lady asked him to wear the ‘pretty pants’ for the duration of the evening and pleads to Mr Chairman’s good nature. Good nature? At Old Boys? What a fool! He is, of course, forced to remove the pants and down a pint for the trauma he’s caused. As usual, an attempt is made to play some games, but instead time is wasted making examples of certain individuals. To my memory (which is fairly clouded), Stu Wilson makes hard work of his pint, and ends up drinking 1/2 a pint of his own saliva (you could hardly class it as vomit!).
Unfortunately, Nottingham Forest were promoted on Saturday afternoon, and Tommy stays true to his word. McTavish climbs on to the table, and Tommy obliges. More worryingly, McTavish is so pleased by the experience, he opts to return the favour. I start to wonder if this is actually Old Boys or Gay Pride!
With the night passing by,  we make our way down to Main Bar (or the Academy??), hoping to make our presence known on the dance floor.


Saturday pm – Main Bar

From the moment we arrive at Main Bar, we all know it’s going to get very messy. The group splits and some make their way down to Jocks Bar hoping to recall fond memories and actually get served! Mr Chairman finds himself stacking (2 pints of Strongbow), and is challenged to a race by new boy Marshy (formally introduced on Sunday). Out of practice, Mr Chairman loses badly, soaking the T-Shirt in the process. Not to worry though, there’s no waste as the T-Shirt absorbs the cider, and is subsequently used as a drinks vessel – well, I’ve had to drink from worse!!! Upstairs, Jon Phillips arrives with Mike and looks like he’s losing the battle. Drinking double and treble vodkas seem to have really done the trick! Elsewhere, a mysterious hat makes the rounds, though I realise I’ve seen it just a few minutes earlier – with a steaming pile of human sh1t inside. Yes, the rugby Old Boys had been up to their tricks again and wondered ‘who could be stupid enough to wear a hat I’ve just taken a dump in?’ Of course, none of our football boys would be stupid enough to ignore the foul stench and actually put it on their head. Would they? You’ve guessed it, our very own Jimmy Hill suddenly realises he is that stupid and races to the toilets to wash his hair (see pics)!!!
With that trauma over, and the fact we’d managed to persuade two young ladies to have a little fun for the cameras (see pics also), we hit the dance floor, now convinced that we are all John Travolta or Steve Stifler. At first, a number of the lads try to prove their skills, quickly realising that ‘throwing up some shapes’ is not working and we all revert to the good old ‘huddle’. That’s it, we all lock arms, jump around and barge into a number of (large, unattractive) lesbians!
Obviously keen to make as much profit as possible, the Main Bar staff turn up the heating, which results in the T-shirts being removed and a varied number of bodies on display. For more pics, visit the Facebook group UW Bangor-Football Old Boys.

Ok, so you’ve decided to read on. Maybe you were there, maybe you’ve heard about the Sunday. Either way, there is no way I will ever be able to do it justice, but here we go anyway…

Sunday am

The day gets off to a fine start. Jamie Temple, current club captain, has booked the pitches at Treborth for an 11am kick-off, kits are available, and he’s even managed to assemble a team of current students. On Pitch 1, the regular Old Stars v Old Stars game will be played, and on Pitch 2 the Old Boys v current UWB Students – a match the Old Boys have not lost for many years (we think it might be 7 or 8 years!).
Unfortunately, due to a low turn out (and a number of injuries), the Old Stars need an Old Boy just to field a team of 9. Following his exploits the previous night, Jon Phillips decides his time has come and becomes an Old Star! The Old Boys then cobble together the 9 most senior players in their squad and an Old Stars v Old Boys match can commence. The remaining Old Boys march down to Pitch 2, hoping to retain the trophy that was uncontested in 2007.
The Old Boys v Old Stars match has everything……well, it has something. I guess. Tommy Hoppitt fires the Old Boys into a 2-0 lead with some excellent finishing, and had McTavish shown similar confidence in front of goal, the margin could have been much wider. Stu Wilson is full of running, but his distribution is lacking to say the least. In truth, his best pass is actually where he intended to take the ball under control. Mickey Donnelly is full of tricks (and f*ck all end-product) and Jon Phillips shines for the Old Stars. In the end, thanks to some dubious refereeing decisions, and a Tommy Hoppitt own goal, the game goes to penalties. In a tense shoot out, during which I hear someone mention “Thank god Phil ‘Nosebleed’ Owen’s in goal”, the Old Boys convert all of their spot kicks before Owen makes a fine save to win the game 4-2.
We then make our way to Pitch 2, with the scoreline 2-1 to the students. After another dubious refereeing decision to disallow the students a third, Sion Quinn scores his first goal in 4 years to draw the game level, taking the game into penalties! A decision is then made to allow everyone to take a spot kick, rather than the usual 5 per team. What follows is a lesson in penalties by the students, who are victorious (though I lose count of the score, 10-6 maybe?) – they have finally won!!!
The students are then presented with an imaginary trophy (Old Stars have left it at home!) and Jamie Temple urges everyone to make their way to Varsity for post-match drinks. And that’s where it all starts……….

Sunday early pm

The Old Boys meet up in Varsity, where a dedicated seating area has been reserved – result! Unfortunately, Jamie Temple himself is absent, apparently due to working on his dissertation (I know!) – for anyone who was there, this kicks off an unbelievable chain of events (for those who weren’t there, apologies, as some of this will never seem relevant!?). We continue to have a few drinks, eat some food and watch the Arsenal game. Oh, and we also have a conversation about Jimmy Hill’s mum (Milf?).

Sunday pm

As we leave Varsity, we make plans to walk to Rascals via Jamie Temple’s house, in a bid to lure him out for an evening drinking with the Old Boys. Unfortunately, Jamie is not at home (busy with a disseration?), so the boys decide to depart with gifts – THE Cricket Helmet and a training cone (of sorts). Everyone arrives at Rascals, and the drinking games commence, with Tommy Hoppitt growing attached to The Helmet (see pics). Marshy introduces himself to the lads, and is immediately greeted with open arms when he necks a pint. After a small spillage incident on the Rascals floor (Phil – those cigarette butts did not look nice), we make our way to the large table beneath the big screen – perfect for Mr Chairman to single people out. Incredibly, 2 rounds of 21 pass without a single mistake – unprecedented for Old Boys weekend. However, the cracks begin to show and Ade Malone is soon wearing the Cone of Shame on his head, whilst making a pathetic attempt to down his pint. For their petulence, Mickey D and Gaz are forced to join Ade, but only Gaz is able to neck his pint with any dignity. Desperate to make up for his poor efforts, Ade Malone accepts a forfeit put forward to him – to ask one of a group of girls to marry him. The young lady simply says “fuck off you rat”, and Ade makes his way back to the table.
With 21 going so well, Mr Chairman chooses to resurrect an old favourite – the matchbox game. A number of fines are dished out, which results in a minefield of empty pint glasses. Never one to go for the easy throw, Mr Chairman attempts the spectacular and can only look on as the matchbox lands nicely into an empty glass – there are a number of smiles after that one. Mr Chief Snitch / Weights and Measures is only too happy to use the funds collected to purchase a mucky pint for Mr Chairman’s consumption. However, the fund has to be split as Small Paul makes the same mistake and both polish off the vodka based pints in unison.

Sunday pm – The Belle Vue!

We make the decision to leave Rascals and the group splits up, having been told to reconvene at the BV.  Some head to the Globe, others for pizza and a few of us to the Greek Taverna for a cheeky short or two. We then make our way to the BV, purchase a pint and make our way to the roof for the annual sing song – Father Abrahams beckons! With almost everyone present, some make the rather wise (in hindsight) decision to sit at the outside tables and watch from a (safe!) distance (see pic, right).
For the rest of us, it’s the rather too familiar ascent to the peak, proudly stood staring down at Bangor! We drink happily, everyone anticipating the moment when Mr Chairman decides to start        “Father Abrahams……”
Meanwhile, Tommy Hoppitt finds himself running late and, desperate to avoid the potential fines races to the bar, buys a pint and then straight onto the rooftop. As he arrives he reclaims his prized possession from McTavish – The Cricket Helmet(!!!) – and places it on his head, enthusiastically. The song then commences and goes exceptionally well until the final verse (trousers at the ready!)……..
What happened next still haunts me to this day. Fortunately, everyone is now (fairly) well and my own personal thanks go to Mike Williams (see the pic and you might guess why). I’m not going to detail any more than that here, but I’m sure there are a number of people willing to recount the story. Golden moment – Tommy Hoppitt “185 Not Out!”


Sunday pm – post Belle Vue!

Having had a fair shock, the remaining Old Boys drink warily, but heavily in Rascals and The Menai before heading to Paddy’s to end the weekend. Paddy himself is a dribbling mess, but I can’t say I remember too much more – other than the massive dent in The Cricket Helmet. A T-Shirt is signed for Tommy Hoppitt – now a member of the elusive BV3!

Sunday pm – Ysbyty Gwynedd

Phil has treatment for a rather nasty gash on his head, whilst Mickey D is treated for a wrist injury. As for Tommy Hoppitt, he’s told he will remain here for a few days, requiring treatment for a dislocated hand and broken wrist. Upon hearing the news, Tommy’s only response is “I’m a f*ckin legend”. The doctor examining Tommy completes his paperwork. Under the ‘valuables’ section, he has written “Yes – Pair of jeans, Trainers, bank card”!

Monday am

Weary from the night before, the usual sadness at saying our goodbyes is evident, if not slightly stronger given the events of a quite unbelievable weekend. Tim Curtis sends a text, notifying us of an interesting story in the Daily Post. I read it with a wry smile (apologies for pic quality)….

I know this is a very narrow view of the weekend, so please let us know of your recollections – here. Looking forward to seeing you all again in 2009 – that includes you BV Boys!