What's the point?

December 28th: Doncaster Rovers v Leicester City (Championship)

Doncaster is one of those places you only go to if you really have to.

[Like Birkenhead or Chesterfield or Mansfield or Leeds or south London or Bradford or Boston or Nottingham or Caboolture, Queensland or Dartford or Blackpool or Llandudno. Or Worksop.]

I leave the house a couple of minutes past seven and start my walk. The plan today is to get the 7.55 coach up to Sheffield, then get the X78 bus from there to Doncaster. That process turns out to be relatively trouble-free - no loons, no delays, no breakdowns, nothing. Just a comfortable-ish coach ride followed by a walk of a few yards to get the Donny bus. Today's going swimmingly.

As the bus shuffles along through Sheffield, stopping at Meadowhall, I observe the people walking past, getting on, going about their business. What a pleasant day! It feels like nothing could possibly go wrong.

The bus continues through South Yorkshire and enters Rotherham.

[Or Rotherham.]

I look out at the scenery. There's a freezer by the side of the road, lying on its side with its lid open. Underdressed 16-year-olds herd their ugly, unclean offspring towards some location that almost certainly sells either Lambert & Butler or Sunny Delight. The bus pushes on towards the interchange, and not slowly either. Presumably the driver hates Rotherham too.

The X78 arrives at Rotherham interchange to unload passengers. I remain on the bus, seated. My phone rings - it's Helen. No! NO! If this is what I think it is...
"Hello."
"Turn around."
FUCKING SHITTY FUCK!
I feel like crying.

[The problem here is that Doncaster's brand spanking new stadium doesn't even have undersoil heating. So of course, the frozen pitch was always going to remain frozen. Now can anybody tell me, what was the fucking point of Donny Rovers leaving their old Belle Vue ground if the new stadium wasn't going to have the basic mod cons? Undersoil heating should be mandatory for all clubs in the top two divisions at least. The fact that it isn't is the Football League's failure. Still, I can't decide which is worse: not having undersoil heating, or having it and not switching it on.]

I decide to press on to Doncaster - anything to avoid getting off at Rotherham - and see if I can find some alternative entertainment. Once at Donny Interchange, I decide to see if there's a non-league game nearby I can get to. Before I can do anything, though, I run into Alan again. He starts to talk about the best way to get to the ground, and I just shake my head. It seems the news hasn't travelled that fast. On hearing the news, Alan is livid, and understandably so - there's been no news of a pitch inspection, not on any radio station at least.

[Doncaster did a similar thing to Leeds and their fans in February 2008. See here for the story.]

A quick trip back to the railway station is in order to find out when the next Hull Trains service to King's Cross departs. Afterwards, we go and get some food and a copy of the Non League Paper before looking around the town centre for somewhere that shows Sky Sports. A quick look in the NLP tells me there's nothing within reasonable travelling distance below the Football League. We eventually happen upon a betting shop, where we discover that Sheffield United v Preston (too expensive) and Bradford v Shrewsbury (too far away) have both survived, whereas Chesterfield v Rotherham is off (I wouldn't have gone to it, even if it had somehow been played in my front garden).

After he goes off back to London on the 13.37 service, I decide to make my way back to Sheffield. On my way back through the interchange, no fewer than four people tell me the game is off. I just nod: "Yeah, I'm going home." I'm not, but it's easier and quicker than saying "Yeah, I'm going to wander around Sheffield for several hours, possibly find something to do and possibly not, before going home."

Eventually the X78 gets back to Sheffield (via Rotherham again - what an awful place that really is). There are worse places to be when you're pissed off than Sheffield. It doesn't take long to find the Arundel Gate Odeon, and the decision is made.

[This new Sherlock Holmes film is not terrible, by the way. Robert Downey Jr is of course marvellous, and Mark Strong is obviously talented. Even Jude Law is bearable. The whole flick, though, smells faintly of Guy Ritchie. If you're familiar with his work, you'll know what I mean. If you're not, lucky you.]

I get back to the bus station some 45 minutes before my coach is due. I take a seat in the waiting room, which is very well heated. When a young American man - Dwayne from the Miami area - walks in, I discover I've been sitting perfectly still for 20 minutes. For the next half hour, I talk to Dwayne about sports both British and American, baseball caps for some reason, his new life in Nottingham (never mind) and tattoos - he has several. He seems an interesting chap.

The coach arrives on time and it's time for some sleep before retreating back to the warmth. Another trip to another shithole and again I've seen no football. Fucking clowns.

Final score: Match postponed
Time: 14 hours 40 minutes
Ticket: £23
Coach: £10.90
Bus: £4.50
Total: £38.40