Another Easter, another Viking Cup for the Saigon Raiders. This year it was held in the land of Bruce Lee, Sky Scrapers and $25 cocktails, Hong Kong. Pre-departure hiccups involving the kit led Floyd to question British efficiency, but were sorted thanks to Pete and Mike. The Raiders boarded the plane with an 11 man squad assembled from some of the finest footballers Saigon has to offer, and Luke. The 100% Scandinavian free, stream lined team was; Antony, Colin, Luke, Tim, Daniel, Craig, Nico, Aron, Ben, Old Alex, Steinkuhl and Coach Pat.

Arriving in Hong Kong we passed through the bustling city, taking in sky scrapers which brushed the clouds, the interconnected islands surrounded by crystal blue ocean and thought…fuck its cold. The Royal Garden Hotel was a perfect base camp for the Viking invasion. Located in central Hong Kong and surrounded by sex shops. The Raiders wasted no time heading to the Viking Bar and began to meet and greet the other teams. Picking up the event program it appeared our lack of Viking blood hadn’t gone unnoticed; they had even been kind enough to produce a graph. The early party considered a nap due to their 4am start but the naysayers were quickly drowned out in a torrent of Carlsberg and Wild Turkey. Yes, thanks to Antony there was no escaping the larynx burning.

For the opening ceremony the teams headed out into the Hong Kong rain to what appeared to be a Scout hall. Nico felt right at home following his 26 years in the Belgium Scouts tying knots, eating chocolate and being groomed (his new word) by the troop leaders. The team tucked into a traditional Hong Kong curry which would have explosive repercussions for the Royal Garden toilets. With trepidation we awaited the beginning of the Video presentations. In what seemed like no time the Game of Thrones Cat appeared on screen. A few giggles. This might not be so bad. The video skips to the Raiders squad in 14b6, the sound quality is terrible. You can hear nothing. The other teams begin talking amongst themselves. We attempt to disperse through the crowd so as not to provide a large target for the universal derision. After 7 excruciating minutes; it’s over. Even Stefan’s goal only raised a half-hearted cheer. We had slain the Viking atmosphere in less than 8 minutes.

We are the 0%.

For those who want the Clockwork Orange experience, here it is:

https://youtu.be/LcXNC8XwTxA

Hastily downing as many gin and tonics as we could, the team slinked away to a local bar. At this point my memory get hazy as the 4am start combined with practically none stop drinking started to catch up with me. Apparently I licked fire, flipped beer mats and tried to buy a bottle of water with a $100 bill. The only image so strong it remained imprinted upon my limbic system despite the torrent of alcohol was the majestic sight of Pat vomiting 3 times without once breaking stride. Like a human version of the trucks that water the plants around HCMC, he decorated the streets of HK. Truly one of the funniest sights I have ever seen. By the third episode of projectile vomiting Tim was a hysterical heap on the floor. I’m told the rest of the team spent the night exploring the local sex shops where they discovered this contraption; the cock cage.

Due to waking up with one of the worst hangovers of my drinking career I have very little memory of the trip to the pitch on Friday morning. I ate half a hash brown. It tasted like misery. That’s all I remember. Arriving at the pitch I was dragged from my self-induced purgatory by the realisation that it was 5 degrees and I was wearing fucking shorts and flip flops. Why did you let me leave the room like that Tim? Luckily I was rescued by Aron who had bought an entire suitcase (literally) of clothes, including his hotel dressing gown. It was gratefully accepted and the team began warming up.

At this point our Hong Kong ringers began arriving. First up the German contingent; Stefan looking like a German Guy Fawkes, Jens who received a cheer when he announced he was a defender and Dirk, easily the happiest German I have ever met. Then the Hong Kong twins Sushi (Byron) and Eggroll (Sebastian), they looked like little skater punks.

For the first game against Kuala Lumpur, Coach Pat AKA ‘the retired oil baron’ dressed in his trademark red jacket and hat, lined the team up in a classic 4-5-1 formation. Antony in goal protected by a back line of Luke, Colin, Old Alex and Tim was tasked with keeping out the Viking hordes. In the midfield Craig, Daniel and Nico held the middle whilst Steinkuhl and Ben provided the width and ammunition for Aron to score the goals. That was the plan. It lasted all of 3 minutes. The Raiders were penetrated more times than Sasha Grey in Gangbang Sluts 16. During the first half we barely made it out of our own half and we staggered in at the break 3-0 down already. The second half was an improvement and the Raiders finally managed to put some passes together and Ben was throwing himself about in an effort to rattle the KL giants. However, a controversial offside goal then led to Antony going ‘full American’ and getting sent off by the referee. The game ended 4-0 and a sobering start for the Raiders. In more positive news, it cured my hangover and the skater punk twins could actually play football.

The rain stopped pouring and the realisation of just how beautiful the setting was for a football pitch began to sink in. A magpie taking on a giant eagle (Aron thinks it was a Falcon) which soared above the pitch all day long was a notable highlight. Eat your heart out Attenbourgh. The Veterans Tournament kicked off and the team headed over to support/heckle. Laurie Johnson surprised everyone by turning up. Whilst Tim, Colin and Antony pulled on the white kits courtesy of being old as fuck. The game was a thriller to watch and goals poured in from both side. Bishop almost bagged a hatrick much to the delight of the fans.

Next up was Shanghai B. All of the Raiders were looking forward to playing our old teammate Jonas but were devastated to learn he was somehow in the Shanghai A team. Pat stuck with the same formation and team and we headed out full of optimism. Again, within 5 minutes we were 2-0 down. Not happy with being just 2-0 down Antony decided to help Shanghai out by punching the ball into his own net. 3-0 at half time and the Raiders were not a happy bunch. Accusations of bottling challenges and lacking heart were entirely justified; too many players were not putting their body on the line. Colin encouraged the team to at least have some pride. The second half was again better but the Raiders struggled to create anything. Aron was isolated up front and Nico was struggling to make an impact. I received a pass in the midfield to feet. Taking a touch I looked up to see 3 giant blond Vikings rushing me. Don’t panic. Meanwhile I could see in my peripheral vision that Nico had wanted a quick pass, cue arm flapping and his catchphrase ‘Just fucking pass the ball.’ Whilst he was having his Belgium strop I noticed one of the giants had over stretched to make the tackle by half a cm, it was enough. I slipped it through Thor’s legs straight into Nico’s path with the accompanying shout of ‘There you go you miserable cunt!’ much to the delight of the crowd. Antony then chipped in with his second own goal of the game to make it 4-0. Luke ‘The Veil’ McDonnell was doing his best Bao circa 2011 impression and the game finally ended 6-0. The Raiders were struggling.

A two hour break gave us plenty of time to assess the damage and take on some food. The consensus seemed be that our main problem was we were shit at football. Surrounded by Vikings singing their repetitive songs, talk turned to Adam Johnson and paedophilia. You know, to lighten the mood. It should be no surprise that the one man defending grooming a 14 year old girl was a Belgian. By this time Sascha, Vy and Mira had arrived to support us. Hopefully Mira will be too young to remember any of the football she witnessed this weekend, otherwise we may need to establish a therapy angel fund for her in the future. After checking the score board we discovered that Bangkok had also lost both games and miracle of miracles we still had a chance to qualify in our final game. So did the Vets. Cue an intense tug of war for Tim, Antony and Colin. In the end Colin and Antony played for the main team whilst Tim looked to continue his goal scoring exploited for the Vets.

Despite some tactical tinkering from the used car salesman the Raiders gave away their now customary 2 goal advantage within the first 5 minutes. We should be rewarded for our generosity in future VC’s. Having played all day with a limited squad, energy levels were dropping. The low point was when a fat 50 year old Danish Peter Griffin was left completely unmarked on the penalty spot to score the easiest goal of his life. We trailed 4-0 at half time. Antony channelled his Italian heritage to inform us that (and I quote) ‘I’m fucking sick of it! It’s like the fucking OK Coral out there. Shots are coming at me from everywhere and people are just standing there.’ Ten brains simultaneously thought ‘You punching balls into the back of the net doesn’t help’, but all wisely kept their mouths shut. By this point our ringers were looking around thinking ‘what the hell are we involved in here?’ It was the Empire Strikes back moment in the tour.

Second half we at least battled harder and regained some pride. Ben was even through on goal only to be called back for offside. ‘Stick your flag up your ass, we’ve been working all day for that!’ screamed Coach Pat causing Mira to burst into tears. Antony pulled of the save of the day, made all the more remarkable as the rest of the team was already heading back to the centre circle. Nico won a free kick which Daniel stepped up to take…you can fill in the blank of what happened. A flurry of late goals meant we ended up losing 8-0. So three games, 4-0, 6-0 and 8-0. Exponential shitness. We had mustered 3 shots on target all day, conceded 18, scored 0.

We are the 0%.

The universal opinion was ‘Let’s go and get pissed.’

The mood on the bus back to the hotel was raised by an excellent discussion on which Raider would you most like to have a threesome with. Sipho was deemed the worst option for obvious reasons, Aron scored well based on the fact he could conduct a preliminary exam, whilst Harry scored high for having a shit body, probably being shit in bed and providing slush puppy refreshments. Antony caused hilarity with his impersonations and the Raiders were back in business. The mood was perfectly summed up by Aron, ‘A bad day playing football is still a better than any other day.’

Arriving back at the hotel we hit the Jacuzzi whilst Antony went out and bought a $3800 watch. Yes there are the correct amount of zero’s in that sentence. The squad put on their best outfits and assembled at the Viking Bar to load up on free alcohol. We ate at Devil’s Advocate where Nico learned about cricket, Pat learned about football and we all learned Daniel cannot play drinking games. Whilst everyone else loaded up on expresso’s Luke bravely ordered a Tequila. At this point Old Alex, who had led us expertly through the weekend handed over the night to our ringer, Stefan. Perhaps misjudging how classy we are as a team due to our outfits he took us to a cocktail bar ($25 a drink) and then a roof top bar. Meanwhile Tim and Luke had discovered a bar that served drinks in a syringe. Once they found the rest of the team most of us headed there. Poor Daniel, was not expecting the alcohol in the syringe to be in the form of Jelly. His cheeks expanded and his eyes bulged before he manfully forced it down like the final scene of a Bukkake party. The night ended with Sushi recommending we get kebabs instead of a Mcd’s. Great shout.

Due to sitting up and drinking a litre of water and 3 borocca before I went to sleep, I actually remember Saturday morning. Heading to the pitch all talk was of redemption. The sun was shining and it was a glorious day in Hong Kong. We were in the wooden spoon mini league containing the 3 worst teams in the tournament. Now was our chance to shine. Imagine the mood when it was discovered we only had 10 men ready for kick off. SHAME ON: Old Alex, Ben and Steinkuhl, still tucked up in bed. Three of our ringers had also failed to show up (you could hardly blame them after day one) so credit to Jens and Stefan. A number of Raiders were frothing at the mouth by this point but it was decided we might still be able to do it with 10 men. Five minutes in…you guessed it…3-0 down.

At this point Steinkuhl arrived along with the twins to at least take us up to 11 men. Craig had taken a kick on the shin 2 minutes in and was hobbling around the midfield. With the sides even the Raiders were on top. Keeping possession and knocking the ball around for the first time all tournament. Colin was marshalling the defence whilst Nico, Aron and Steinkuhl were linking up well. There was even a chance for instant redemption for Steinkuhl when he was put through but his effort hit the post from a difficult angle. 3-0 down at half time all the talk was of a comeback. The adverse conditions had at least brought out the fighting spirit in the Raiders. Despite dominating the second half we couldn’t score and were caught on the break with a cheap goal. The Singapore striker tapping the ball past Antony who tried to chase it down in what was the slowest foot race since Steven Hawkings vs Christopher Reeve (post-accident obviously).

So another 4-0 loss. What hurt was this time it was all down to our own failings. Singapore were there for the taking. Not turning up for matches on tour shows a complete lack of respect for the team and the club as a whole. I hope in future to never have to see a Raiders team take the field with 10 men. Bowed but not broken we vowed to win our remaining game against Kong Kong B. Another team who had also failed to score all tournament. Clash of the Shitans.

This was it. All or nothing. Pat dropped his best team talk to date:

The team was ready. We changed to a 3-5-2 formation and were determined to get a win. The game started with the Raiders dominating possession. Then it happened. Nico dashed forward fearlessly, riding flying tackles with the grace of a dapper unicorn, before unleashing a 30 yard thunderbolt that generated cosmic waves and shattered the top corner of HK’s net. The goal keeper could only hear the bullet fizz by, and mumbled a tempered thank you to Jesus for a life spared avoiding this guided missile. The goal of the tournament, week, month and year was only matched by the team’s wild celebrations. Wild, uncontrolled, pure. The team piled on top of the goal scorer en mass, coach and all. In that moment, a memory was created that will be chanted by Raiders for generations to come. Because having conceded 22 goals in 4 games, the one that mattered was a beauty.

Hong Kong did not share our enthusiasm. Craig engaged in a five minute on going argument with a tubby midfielder over whether the celebration was disrespectful. He was particularly infuriated by the Texan Oil Baron running onto the pitch. For the second time in the weekend I got to call someone a miserable cunt. The Raiders continued to dominate but couldn’t find the second goal. Sushi was playing outstanding as part of a back three.

At half time we knew we just had to keep playing the same. Second half Aron decided do try a new position as defensive midfielder. Within minutes of entering the furnace of midfield, the player who is usually the calm measured voice of the Raiders was screaming at Sushi ‘Don’t tie your fucking boots now!’ It was tense. One goal either way would change everything. Daniel was launching as many satellites as possible but none in earth’s orbit. Luke found the time to get caught under his 83rd ball of the tournament. In future Luke, when the ball is in the air and the little voice in your head says ‘This is the spot’, take 2 steps back. Craig dropped back to make it 4-4-2 as the game got scrappy. Steinkuhl was linking up well with Nico and Stefan. Luke went down in a clash of heads but soldiered on to ensure he completed every minute of every game. Tim had a great chance to score following great work from Nico but took a heavy touch. It seemed his twin brother Jim Bishop was banging in the goals for the vets and we were stuck with Tim. Nico then had the chance to get a second himself after Aron forced a mistake from the keeper but missed when it seemed easier to score. In the end the second goal was another beauty. Link up play between the attackers and midfield which included 8 passes left Stefan on the edge of the area to curl a great finish inside the post. Cue back slapping relief around the Raiders team. The game ended 2-0. Finally a win!
We may have laboured. We may have argued. But standing there in the sun, with beers in our hands, the ocean at our backs, surrounded by friends who had shared our toils, with eagles soaring above our heads, and victory in our hearts, life felt good. This is what the Saigon Raiders is all about.

There was discussion of heading to a beer garden in a beautiful market but as ever following a football tournament the rule of inertia reigned supreme. The team settled in to watch the rest of the games and enjoy some much needed beers. Alex and Ben sheepishly arrived and it turned out they had simply slept in. No cocaine fuelled gangbang with hookers. No confrontation with the Hong Kong police. Just a faulty alarm clock. Steinkuhl ate 16 Panini’s, seriously; if there is ever a VC eating competition he is the first name on the team sheet.

Hong Kong went on to win the Cup on penalties against a vastly superior Beijing team. The goal keeper made some excellent saves and went on to be named player of the tournament. It was a strange tournament. HK only scored 4 goals all tournament but never conceded. Singapore scored 21 and conceded 0 but went out on penalties in the semi’s. Beijing’s best player was a 16 year old boy who was a class above everyone else on the pitch in the final. Good news for next year… oh and his 14 year old brother was playing left back. We conceded 22 and scored 2 but still weren’t the worst team in the tournament.

Finally it was time for the real competition. The reason the Raiders were in Kong Kong; to defend their drinking crown. The Raiders represented Vietnam by donning red Ao Dai’s for the occasion and were easily the best dressed.

Even the Loefflers joined in. The food was superb. Sushi, oysters and steak were consumed in copious amount by everyone except the drinking team. Game faces were on. Warm up beers were downed. The times weren’t the best recorded. Nerves began to kick in. Then it was time. Despite a late round of auditions the Raiders Drinking Team 2016 was Alex, Floyd, Sascha, Nico and Pat. We drank 6th out of 8 teams in qualifying. The time to beat was 32.8.

Video evidence

The team drank well but a 2 second penalty meant we finished with a time of 33.1. Both the remaining teams would have to beat us for the Raiders to be eliminated. Shanghai recorded the fastest time of the night with 30.2. Shit. Pat looked like he was going to vomit. Again. Singapore stood between us and the final. Every second was agony. They finished in 31.8…but with 4 seconds of penalties. We were in the final. I hadn’t felt this tense since the England penalty shootout in 1996.

The drinking team went into a huddle. I wasn’t privy to the words exchanged but I assume it went along the lines of ‘Drink faster, spill less’. The girls drinking competition was won by Hong Kong. We didn’t give a shit. 2 minutes before the teams were called on stage Nico decided it would be a good time for a toilet break. A wide eyed Pat instructed ‘Someone not drinking go and get him, NOW!’ Then it was time. Destiny. A sea of Scandinavians surrounded the oasis of red Ao Dai’s clustering at the front of the stage. The Raiders took their now trademark kneeling position.

3…2…1…GO. Alex started with a steady time, Floyd continued but by this point it was clear we were already a beer behind Shanghai. FUUUUCCCKKKK. Sascha as ever calmness personified downed his beer in 3 seconds. Nico had to be fast. He was. Necking the beer of his life he caught up to Shanghai. It was Pat vs a twat in a hat. He’s got this, we murmured. But as he started drinking a look of panic appeared in his eyes…(the beer had gone down the wrong way), knowing this was his sole purpose he sucked the beer into his lungs and slammed the glass down. It was close.
A tense few minutes whilst the times were verified. Jakarta, 32.1 seconds, no penalties. Raiders, 30.3 seconds, no penalties. Shanghai 31……ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH FUCKKKKINNGGGG YESSSSSSSSSSS! Bedlam as we rushed the stage. ‘RAIDERS NUMBER ONE, RAIDERS RAIDERS NUMBER ONE!’ We jumped in a huddle of Raiders red and white glory. We screamed until our voices were lost. Each time my head was raised above the group I caught a glimpse of 300 Scandinavians stood stone faced as we celebrated. Watching 5 grown men drink 5 beers faster than 5 other grown men should not make us this happy. But it did. We had done it. What we set out to achieve.

All the heart ache of day one was forgotten in 30.3 glorious seconds.

We are the 0%.

Having been a team that refused to engage in the chanting element of the Viking Cup, we now (some might say hypocritically) became singing machines. Tequilas were had, Turkey and player of the tournament were voted for. We partied hard and reaffirmed our bond as Raiders.

Thanks

A big thank you to Alex who organised an excellent tour, pretty much single handily. Everything went smoothly throughout the weekend and your efforts are much appreciated by all. It’s never an easy job and is often under appreciated. Well done.

The Raiders veterans were a pleasure to meet, genuine nice guys. Each and every one of you expanded our understanding of what it means to be a Raider. It was great to see that it’s not a recent development to steer all the nob heads and undesirables towards the Saigon Saints. Your enduring passion for the Raiders and willingness to pull on the kits again was an inspiration to us youngish ones. It’s times like these that make you appreciate the 25 year history of the Saigon Raiders.

The ringers. Thank you for joining the Raiders on tour. Anytime you are in Saigon you will be welcomed with open arms by the Saigon Raiders. We couldn’t have entered the tournament without you, sorry for being so shit.

Player of the Tournament – Colin Dixon
In the famous poem ‘If’ there is a line which says ‘If you can keep your head, whilst all about you are losing theirs’, that was Colin. Always calm in the storm, he encouraged us and sought to lift us when we were down. He played at the back and offered his usual composure but it was his Viking Cup experience which really made a difference. Well played old man.

Turkey of the Tournament – Alex Gotze
Failing to turn up for the start of a match in one tournament is bad enough but missing two in a row is sacrilege. Prepare a bucket by your bed for the end of season awards. Dishonourable mention for Ben.

Quotes/Songs:
Jonas (pre drinking comp) – ‘He used to be a Raider then he gained a lot of weight, he used to be a Raider then he gained a lot of weight. He used to be a Raider then he gained a lot of weight. Fuck off to Shanghai.’
Jonas (post drinking comp) – ‘He used to be a champion then he fucked off to Shanghai………’
‘Shut the fuck up’ – Pat has had enough of a WAG screaming ‘Come on Shanghai’ for 2 days straight.
‘Sipho wants it!’ – Antony has us in hysterics.
‘You lot are pussies!’ – Floyd pulls no punches on opening night as he takes the stage.
‘Yep, it hurts a lot.’ – Craig ignores medical advice and sprays an alcoholic compound on an open wound.
‘Yeah, my brother can’t hit a barn door.’ – Jim Bishop (Jim Bishop went on to throw a 58 year old man to the floor and be sent off, so maybe we will stick with good old Tim Bishop.)
‘It’s a sad indictment of the club.’ – Colin needs to work on his acceptance speech.
‘Dude we aren’t even related.’ – One of the twins gets frustrated with our casual racism.
‘You always start well then go to pieces’ Craig.
‘As one of the subs I resent that!’ Les.
‘If you smile do you get sent to the basement?’ Daniel enquires why Dirk doesn’t seem happy.

 

By Craig A