It doesn’t matter whether it’s a Premier League game or the sixth division, there’s a certain unique bustle about match days with the gathering crowds murmuring in anticipation and the unmistakable smell of poor quality burgers heavy in the air while tinny pop blares out over the loudspeakers. So much nostalgia from my youth and all that’s missing is the cigarette smoke but I don’t miss that.

I know this isn’t a football blog, but stay with me. My interest in non league games started as an eleven year old after telling my friends that if Ipswich (my boyhood team) lost that weekend I’d start supporting Runcorn, an amateur team that for some reason I’d plucked from thin air. The fact that they were based hundreds of miles from where I lived made it even funnier. Predictably, Ipswich did indeed lose so I duly wrote a letter to Runcorn FC asking if they could send me some information (no email in those days, kids.)

I don’t recall if I told them the real reason I was writing but they kindly sent me a match programme through the post along with a couple of other bits and pieces and that was it, my interest in lower league football was piqued. My dad and I used to go to a few games near us in south London at Sutton, Carshalton and Tooting & Mitcham United, who according to Dad my great grandfather was once chairman of. I do like to mock Croydon where I grew up but I’m actually quite proud to be a sarf Londoner (with the accent to match) whose family roots there stretch back generations.

The reason I’m telling you all this isn’t just because I’ve had my morning medication and am rambling but because going again recently to see my local team play has become a welcome rare connection with the real world and an opportunity to actually interact with people. Everyone there is so friendly and there’s none of the mindless aggression you get at bigger clubs. Instead there’s a real community spirit and the quality of the football is surprisingly good. The continuing success of the team is an added bonus.

So yes, as you may have gathered by now I managed to make it to the football again. Take that chronic barry! Last week’s crash was pretty bad and aggravated by other stressful things happening at the moment. However, as I had recovered slightly by the end of the week and had vowed to go if I wasn’t completely incapacitated I set off early from home to make sure my poor battered body found a seat in the small stand.

Somehow I ended up once again sitting next to the really drunk guy from last week. He’s actually a lovely chap and quite lucid through the slurring but he never shuts up and I found myself smiling and nodding politely a fair bit while trying to watch the game. On the other side of me was a well spoken older lady who was very amusing, offering her opinions on the game and telling the players in a firm, motherly tone that it’s pointless arguing with the referee. Great characters and it felt really good to meet people and make new friends, a recent theme which I’m very happy is continuing. The coming of this spring has brought renewed life not just to the trees and flowers but to my spirit too.

And best of all, Worthing only went and won it with a last minute goal. That’s what I love about football, and sport in general. The tension, the euphoria of moments like that and yes, even the disappointments that most supporters usually have to endure which just make the rare sucessses even sweeter. They’re now in the final which will be played again at home next Monday with the winners promoted to what is effectively the fifth division of the football league, unprecedented in Worthing’s history. I know you’re all riveted and won’t be able to sleep waiting for next week’s match report!

Unsurprisingly I’m very tired and achey today. My calves are especially sore, no doubt from the two kilometres of walking yesterday. At least the sun is out for once and I’m able to sit in the garden which after a long winter feels like a small freedom in itself. After I became ill I read that bazzers need to accept their world has shrunk and to appreciate the smaller things in life, like the blossom on the trees and the sound of birdsong. It sounded incredibly patronising and depressing but it is true. Being able to sit outside in the verdant garden and feel the warmth of the sun on my face listening to the birds chirping and watching them flit onto the feeder is a genuine pleasure.

We’ll see how this week pans out and how much revenge chronic barry reaps. Predictably I don’t think the sunshine is forecast to last past tomorrow so am making the most of it while it’s here. Let’s hope it aids my recovery and that I don’t suffer too much in the coming days. Right now I’m very tired indeed, time to close my eyes and rest a bit. As long as I can get to the big final in a week’s time I’ll be happy. Keep those fingers crossed for both me and the football team. Let’s hope we’re all match fit.

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