Early arrival

July 28th: Chesterfield v Leicester City (Friendly)

Another night game tonight, so it's straight from work again. I just miss the bus as I come out the front door, so I walk down to Melton Road to catch another bus. Ten minutes later, I'm still standing at the bus stop. An ambulance sits a bit further up, holding up traffic as a shitfaced bloke is peeled off the pavement. Arsehole.

On the bus, finally, I take a seat at the back and look forward to a few moments of quiet after a long day at work. Unfortunately, this isn't about to happen because a couple of stops later a man gets on who appears to have had one too many, then carried on drinking for several hours. For the rest of the trip, he noisily berates a nearby woman for something (I'm not sure what exactly, but the word 'racist' is mentioned at least five times).

The Sheffield train arrives and departs exactly on time, and I take a seat next to a young dark-haired woman who obviously adopts an immediate and immense dislike of me. I sit in silence with my iPod, even offering to turn it down if it's too loud. "No it's ok," she says, in a tone that suggests it's really not. I turn it down anyway. At Derby, she gets off. Good. Fuck off.

As I go to get off, a man behind me starts a conversation. Fair enough, got nothing better to do. As we step onto the platform, he says "I hope you haven't come for the game."
"Erm..." I'm dressed as I usually am, that is to say that I'm obviously a football fan on his way to a game.
"Because it's tomorrow."
No it fucking isn't. "Is it?"
"Yeah I'm thinking of going." Not tomorrow you're not.
"Well I've come to see the spire anyway."
"Really?"
No you fucking idiot, I've come for the game, which is tonight. "No, I've come for the game. It's tonight."
"Is it?"
"Yes. I arrange my life around these things. It's tonight."
"Oh..."
"Yeah."
"I might not be able to go then..."
I couldn't give two fucks really.

The ground is seventeen minutes' walk away. Well, it is if you stop to pick up food and wipe rain from your face. I pay a visit to the club shop (you know what I'm buying by now), and then wander round to the away end. I think I'll stand tonight. For one, I prefer to stand at football. Secondly, it's two quid cheaper. No-brainer really. Just before I enter, I pass the burger stand selling ponchos. No thanks, I'm wet already.

I find myself a spot behind the goal just before kick-off. My flag, my shirt, my hair and my face are now completely drenched. And it's cold. The rain is still coming down, and it's not getting warmer. Fifteen minutes into the game, the poncho seller approaches. Bit late for that mate. The first half passes with little more than banter between players and fans, and there's no real incident of which to speak. At one point, I pay £1.70 for a shitty Bovril, and instantly regret it.

At half time, there's a brief let-up in the rain. Right on cue, the wind picks up speed and gives everyone pneumonia. Three hours later (might be an exaggeration) the players return to the field. Even less happens in the second half until the 86th minute, when Dany N'Guessan finds himself one-on-one with Mark 'Older Than Time' Crossley and smashes the winner past the ex-Tree goalie. Far more entertaining are the noises coming from those around me. In the context, very funny.

Fortunately, I've been offered a lift home. Knowing that I'll most likely miss the 21.54 train, I accept. All the way home, I feel like something of a cheat, but I don't care - I'll never ever sleep in Chesterfield. Ever.

Final score: Chesterfield 0 Leicester 1
Time: 6 hours 35 minutes
Ticket: £10
Train: £17.30
Total: £27.30