‘I’d be horrified if you stopped coming to Chelsea…’
I remember the conversation with my Dad last season. Work commitments stacking up and an urgent lack of cash meant that my season ticket for the following season to come was in some doubt. Even if I could somehow find the cash, I’d missed upwards of 40% of the games up until that point in the season because of work. Midweek games in particular were a huge problem, as I had almost weekly work trips out to Prague, Rotterdam, Genoa and Hamburg that were invariably scheduled for Tuesdays and Wednesdays. I also had several runs out to Singapore, Vancouver, Houston and Miami that invariably meant me missing the weekend games, sometimes two or even three at a time. Could I justify the thick end of £900 (US$1,300) to go to 13 or 14 games at best next season?
Of course I could.
Some things in life you just do. You don’t even need to think about it. As it turned out my Dad very kindly lent me the cash which I paid back across three instalments. I’d just have to come to as many games as I could possibly manage and that would be that.
All through the summer I’ve been longing for football back. I was a little jaded by it all by the end of the last campaign but that took about eleven minutes to subside once the summer started in earnest. Before I knew it I was missing football, and my Chelsea. West Brom at home on Saturday has been marked in my calendar since the fixtures were announced. I am literally buzzing with excitement at going back to the Bridge again.
I’ve just got a new job that is based not out in Windsor (which is a pain to get to the Bridge from, in time for kick off at any rate) but in Victoria, which for those of you who have never been to London, is about a mile up the road from the hallowed turf of Stamford Bridge, and pleasingly, also my house. What a result. Midweek games here we come. Midweek Champions League away games also now possible. Get in there.
In my interview, I asked what the travel requirements for the new role were. In my line of business (the shipping industry), travel is all-important as its the definitive global market. I’m only 31 and I’m gold/top tier with Emirates, Qatar Airways, Etihad, and the OneWorld alliance, with Star Alliance not far behind. If easyJet had a frequent flyer programme I’d be quadruple platinum and probably have shares in the company by now! My new employer is headquartered in Miami and has its main trading offices in London and Singapore. I figured there would be lots of traveling involved.
Imagine my amazement when my Boss-to-be curled up his lip and shook his head.
‘What level of travel is involved? Minimal.’
Yes.
From now on, no more sitting on planes in suits, coming off all crinkled and sweaty, having not slept, needing a shower and still unable to remember the key indicators on the notes I’ve been trying to write for the last dozen or so hours. More importantly, it means I’ll be able to get to a lot more games now.
The pain of not being able to get to the Bridge for games is sharp and urgent. I got a little frisson of it on Sunday on my way home from Bangkok. Sat on a packed-full A380 with an aisle seat and a snoring, farting, dribbling Bangladeshi man leaning on me, winging my way across Europe to Heathrow, I clock-watched the whole time. Kick off time came and went. No scores updates. This in-flight wifi/phone thing is rubbish. I was going up the wall when the plane landed. I hurtled off the plane and asked the first ground staff person I could find whether he knew what the Chelsea score was. He began talking to me in a language I could not recognise, and for a moment I became concerned that Emirates had put me on a flight to Lahore or Lumbumbashi or Lima instead of London. Heathrow isnt very good for 3G or wifi either, it turns out. Not helpful. I let fly a volley of texts to my friends and family begging to be told the news from The Britannia. And yet deep down, somewhere in my soul, I knew the score already. Crap draw. Was nailed on. I dared to hope, and yet my suspicions were proven sadly but predictably correct just as I got off the bus at Feltham to catch the train back to Clapham Junction where I live. I like traveling, just not when Chelsea are on. Its the most frustrating thing in the world, especially if I had a ticket for the game but ended up not able to go, as happened very frequently last season. I’ve actually flown over the Bridge a couple of times, looked out of my window and seen the game going on from 1,500 feet that I was supposed to be at. Not a nice feeling. I am chuffed to bits that I wont have to go through that too often this season.
Its bloody great to have the Chels back. See you Saturday Dad.
CAREFREE!
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