After a work injury and being out of work for 3 years, on the Monday after the cup final, I was starting a new job in a new career. I ended up staying over in Bristol and having my first day off. Luckily for me, I had carried out voluntary work for this company and rang the lady in charge who smoothed everything over.
I had contacted HR at first and tried to explain and the lady on the phone asked if I would be in by 9 am. I said I was in Bristol, not Billingham - I think I was still drunk from the night before.
On the Wednesday after the win, my manager took me to a celebration for support services at the Riverside hosted by Alli Brownlee. My manager knew the Carling Cup was going to be there and I got my photo taken with it.
I've copied and pasted this story below from the 20 Years Ago Today thread but feel it is well worth sharing again. It always makes me laugh when I think about it.
I went on a coach the day before with a group of mates and stayed in a hotel outside Bristol. On arrival, there were three weddings taking place at the hotel and they had different buttonhole flowers at the reception for each wedding. Whilst booking in I helped myself to one of the flowers and told everyone that when I got changed I would go into the wedding and have something to eat before going out on the town.
The lads all gathered in the hotel bar and I was all suited and booted and was telling them my plan that I just had to match my buttonhole to the correct wedding and then go in for something to eat. It didn't take long to match my flower to the right wedding and I went in. I opened the door, spoke to one or two people and as I made my way to the buffet the fire alarm went off in the hotel and we all had to evacuate. I am looking at the food with a plate in my hand and everyone makes the way to the door. At this point, I am approached by the bride and I think I've been rumbled. 'Come on greedy she said, we all need to leave and we aren't leaving you' and then she asked me to help her with the train on her brides dress.
So as everyone is leaving and making a mad rush to the door to the muster points, I walk out slowly with the bride, carrying her train over one arm and the bride linking the other. The official photographer greets us at the door and is snapping away along with other guests. We reach our muster point and I hand her over to her new husband.
The lads all shouting 'How cheeky Charlie, get back over here' but I'm having none of it and I am now thinking I am an official guest. The photographer is making the most of having everyone outside and getting people to pose for photographs and I pose with the bride and groom, the best man and woman and both sets of parents on one photograph and then with all the bridesmaids on another.
You can imagine all their faces and expressions when they received the official photographs and asked who I was. 'I thought he was on your side of the family'. No, surely he is on yours. Who is the mystery guest?