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Alan Smith: How Gazza’s abandoned fistful of roubles landed me in trouble in Moscow

Gazza's antics in Russia saw the England team bus pulled over by soldiers: Getty Images
Gazza's antics in Russia saw the England team bus pulled over by soldiers: Getty Images

Checking into England's Berkshire hotel, I scanned the rooming list. Expecting to be paired with Tony Adams or another Arsenal team-mate, I got a bit of a shock to see the name 'P Gascoigne' written next to mine.

Strange choice, I thought. Chris Waddle would normally room with his close pal as a fellow son of Newcastle and Tottenham. Maybe they thought I'd act as a calming influence on a character renowned for never sitting still.

So much for that theory. As I lay on my bed that evening watching the box, Gazza kept dashing in and out with his mate 'Waddler'. In the space of about half an hour, I reckon they managed to cram in games of pool, table tennis and cards. Gazza, in particular, just couldn't switch off.

As if to prove the point, I got woken up by the telly at 4am the next morning. 'What are you doing, mate?' I groaned. 'It's the middle of the night!' 'Ah, I canee sleep, man', he said in those thick Geordie tones. My roomie was propped up, watching Ceefax in the dark.

Over the next few years, plenty of antics would follow, but one sticks out the most for reasons you'll see.

In April 1992, England travelled to Moscow, where our first team and B team played friendlies against the Commonwealth of Independent States, as the old Soviet Union was renamed following the dissolution of the USSR.

Anyway, I played for the B team and scored our goal in a 1-1 draw. Fellow Gunners David Seaman, Lee Dixon and David Rocastle turned out as well.

The next day we watched from the stands of the Lenin Stadium as the senior team engaged in a lively 2-2 draw. At the final whistle, we returned to the coach to wait for our colleagues to get showered and changed.

Hanging about, though, never suited Gazza. You could see him getting increasingly restless as the minutes ticked by. Finally, to keep himself amused, our hero plucked a large wad of roubles out of his pocket and, wearing a big grin, reached up through the sunroof to place them on top of the bus.

We were flying home the next day, so Gazza decided he didn't need the cash, which didn't amount to a lot anyway. Unfortunately, he didn't anticipate the near riot that broke out behind us when the coach eventually pulled away. With money fluttering down like ticker tape, dozens of locals scrambled for a fistful.

This might have been okay but for one sticking point. For matches like this in the Eastern Bloc, hundreds of soldiers would always be present. Lined up and looking threatening, they formed a convincing deterrent for any aggro. And when the scuffling began outside that stadium, the military standing nearby weren't impressed at all.

Our bus was sharply brought to a halt by a uniformed figure who obviously meant business.

(Getty Images)
(Getty Images)

Now, it just so happened that I was sat halfway down the coach right next to the steps leading down to the side door. It also just so happened that the furious soldier who marched on board entered through that door.

He had the full outfit on — long woollen khaki coat, complete with epaulettes, oversized peaked cap and knee-length black boots. Standing there with fire in his eyes and a rifle on his shoulder, he quickly turned to me, the nearest target.

Yelling in Russian, he gestured for me to stand up. Terrified, I jumped up to take the mother of all rollickings. You can forget about any tongue lashings received in football down the years.

This was much worse. I was actually convinced at one point he was going to frogmarch me off for interrogation.

But after what felt like an eternity, with me pathetically mumbling my innocence, the soldier backed off, clearly still seething.

And once he'd stomped off, you can imagine the reaction. The lads were in stitches, mainly through relief that it hadn't happened to them.

As for Gazza, he'd watched the whole scene unfold crouched on the back seat. I turned round to see him sniggering uncontrollably.

Alan Smith: Heads Up, My Life Story is available now from Constable.

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