By Richard Turner

It’s 6:50 AM and my travel plans have just been blown out of the water. I class myself about half way up the fan base which ranges from casual followers in various countries (mainly in Africa) to those heroic souls who seem to turn up for every match no matter when in the World it takes place.

I attended every Emirates home game last season and I’m hoping to do the same again this term with a few journeys to Meadow Park thrown in. It is, on average, around a 12 hour round trip for me and sometimes I need an overnight stop so I do credit myself with a fair amount of commitment to the cause.

An Unexpected Journey

I have to plan each fixture which is made more difficult by the habitual engineering works that seem to plague each weekend. On the bright side, I see parts of the country that few others have as the trains go on many and varied routes. Midday kick-offs are a major challenge, Sunday midday doubly challenging. Throw in a bus replacement service for part of the journey and it’s a question of leaving as early as possible and hoping for the best. I am up before the debris of the night before has settled, pleased with myself that I’ve woken up in time and looking forward to the adventure.

I arrive in time for the Hi-Speed Ferry service which is due to leave at 7:15 (see, not just a catchy title for the article). I know that I can’t afford for anything to go wrong. Alas, the Ferry is broken and undergoing essential maintenance. The next Hi-Speed ferry which would just about have worked is also cancelled. I won’t name the ferry company but suffice to say the cancelation won’t be any surprise to local residents.

Great.

I consider abandoning and going home. The game is on tele after all. I can sit in the warmth, see all of the game clearly and benefit from the wisdom of many an ex-player. I can also press pause to delay the game if I’m not quite ready, something that is generally frowned upon if you ask at the Emirates.

But I am bloody-minded thanks to many years of being an Arsenal fan so I look at my options. There is a vehicle ferry, the original punchline of the joke ‘What’s brown and comes out of Cowes backwards.’ It leaves at 7:30. If I can get across the river in time I might make it. I hot-foot it to the Floating Bridge, a modern example of trans-river transport at it’s best (I’ve been hacked!). I reach the vehicle ferry at 7:26 and I’m off.

I disembark (get-off, to you and me) and walk to the train station. There is no train but there are busses, rail replacement service busses, the bane of travelling football fans everywhere.

The coach (bus replacement replacement?) sets off. The driver tells me it’s the first time he’s done this and things get a little awkward when Google Maps tries to take him under a low bridge, but we make it. In plenty of time for my train. Things are looking up!

The train arrives, it’s a replacement because the intended train had to replace a broken down train and so we have 4 coaches instead of 10. Well I guess it’s cosy on a chilly morning. I’m lucky enough to get a seat and we arrive into Waterloo. No time for food or a toilet break, straight on the Tube.

Piccadilly line not running so it’s the traditional route – Bakerloo to Oxford Circus and Victoria Line to Highbury and Islington. This tube station is very busy but we emerge and head for the stadium. No time for food. There are queues at the stadium but I get in and find my seat at 11:58!

My Brother Grows His Own Tomatoes

My brother grows his own tomatoes. I tell him that they do actually sell tomatoes in the shops and he rolls his eyes. I know what he means, the pleasure of achievement and the heightened experience is enough to justify the extra effort. I guess that the same applies to watching live football.

I’m not that keen on tomatoes and not that keen on the first half that I’m served up at the Emirates. A little like pushing the tomato round your plate without the prospect of a working fork. Finally when trying to capture the said fruit/vegetable it flies off the plate and wide of your mouth, grabbed by a delighted opposition diner who effortlessly finds their mouth with their only opportunity.

Into the second half (course?) and Arsenal continue to dominate but don’t look like finding a tomato, I mean goal.

I’m resigned to another disappointing day and I don’t feel like I’ll celebrate even if Arsenal do nick a goal to scrape their customary home draw. But when Alesia Russo’s glancing header finds the net via the post just in front of me, I leap up and shout like everyone else.

And that’s why we go to games and grow our own tomatoes.

I have to leave promptly on the final whistle. The train is packed with people having to stand so I can’t eat my hastily purchased M&S lunch. We wait for a relief driver at Woking who’s stuck on another train (not making this up). We make it back to the waiting bus and then the final train station. I half run to ensure that I make the Hi-Speed service back home, walk to my car and drive home to catch the last few minutes of the men’s glorious Anfield victory. And I finally get to eat something!

I travelled by car, by foot, by chain ferry, vehicle ferry, bus, train and hi-speed ferry but I made it!

It’s not easy watching Arsenal Women at the moment. I still firmly believe that they will turn this around and that the right people are in place to do this. I also firmly believe that they will qualify for Europe next season as well.

It will be tough, there will be moments when it won’t seem possible but there is always a way to beat the odds. I know, I was there.