Day in the Life of a Rugby Fan: Aged 28 ¼
Our rugby columnist recounts the day he made the lengthy journey to the home of London Wasps to watch Newcastle Falcons have one last unlikely stab at avoiding relegation. This is his story.
Our rugby columnist recounts the day he made the lengthy journey to the home of London Wasps to watch Newcastle Falcons have one last unlikely stab at avoiding relegation. This is his story.
If you were there or watched the game, let us know your thoughts as usual in the comments below or on Twitter @ballintouch.
It is one of those sensations that dulls with the passing of time and the entry into adulthood, but there is no doubt that by and large, everyone was dreading their first day at big school. Having risen to the top of the tree in middle school, as a prepubescent youth having enjoyed six weeks of summer freedom, that date circled on the family calendar looms larger and larger until it is but a day away for all of us.
The following morning you will have to rise at an unfathomable hour to dress in your uniform, and travel to a place seemingly far away, strange and foreign to you. Youll see familiar faces there along the way that you knew from days of old but they cant help you as they are going through the same thing. The fear. The dread. The waiting for someone to come along and ruin what could be a perfectly nice day, simply because that is their job in the hierarchy of things. The big kids who massively outnumber you and know their way around will be doing their upmost to make the day miserable for you.
04:00
Saturday 5th May 2012 was like that day at big school all over again. Ball in Touch rose at this unfathomable hour to dress in the uniform of Newcastle Falcons shirt et al and travel to the strange and faraway place that is Adams Park, home of London Wasps for the Aviva Premiership relegation decider.
05:30
Accompanied by Ball in Touch's uncle, 110 vaguely familiar bleary eyed souls gathered at our spiritual home of Kingston park to board our vessel of fear and hope (some may call it a coach) to take us on the near 600 mile round trip. 500 North Easteners would be there we were told, but of course we would be outnumbered by the 10,000 Wasps fans hoping our day was as miserable as possible. 'Big school' all over again.
06:12am
Our bus, affectionately known as Coach 3, set off from Kingston Park on what is best described as a wave of yawning optimism, the sun was literally shining down upon us as we made our way to the motorway. Could this be a sign?
06:27
Having been neck and neck with Coach 2 as we passed the Angel of the North, a light cheers went around the bus when coach 2 signalled to pull into the Washington services to pick up more travellers, unlike us. Not that the coaches were racing, as that would be immature. But we were at last winning. And that's what matters.
08:40
With the passengers quiet and heavy eyed, we make our first stop of the day at the oasis that is Tibshelf Services. Somewhere outside Sheffield apparently.
Stretching like lazy cats, we scatter to the various outlets for some much needed nourishment. Ignoring the appeal of MacDonalds square eggs and sausage, Ball in Touch & uncle opt for a Special Breakfast, choosing not to explore what made it so special or indeed if it was meant only for special people. Either way, the advertising made it look sumptuous. And the food on the adverts always looks like the food you get. Right?
Nope. Despite the best efforts of the cheery staff (I cant remember the last time someone called me ducky) the sheer volume of customers had clearly caught the kitchen off guard and they struggled to get the food out at the required quality. Lets just say it was easier to pretend you had been given a free mini-frisbee instead of a black pudding. No matter, with a long day ahead we tucked in, taking care not to choke on the £22 price for two breakfasts and teas. Ah, service stations
09:25
Bellies full and caffeine levels restored, we were off again.
10:50
Making good progress and approaching Milton Keynes, our driver suddenly turned off the motorways and headed for a nearby industrial park. After a while, the confusion and concern that we were going the wrong way, or worse still, to end up the Youtube stars of a sat nav error and stuck amusingly down a narrow road, spread to the front of the bus. The M40 is shut we were told and our drivers had reverted to plan B.
Even though we were nowhere near the centre of it, the roundabouts that Milton Keynes are so famous for have clearly spread like some kind of traffic harassing disease to the surrounding areas and all attempts to read thwarted by the increasingly nauseous merry-go-round feeling.
12:00
We arrived! With two hours to kill until kick off, we explore the car park, er, fan zone. There were the usual things, the club shop, programme sellers, inflatables for the kids and various burger fans as well as a paella stall. Both the ITV and ESPN tv crews were floating around, trying to avoiding the gawking kids and adults enough to film their segments.
12:30
After demolishing some Divine hot dogs (Divine being the company name I may add) Ball in Touch had a go on the ultimate man toy. A pile of rugby balls, a net with a target and a speed camera behind it to measure the speed of your pass. Feeling quietly confident of registering a good speed after having won a pair of match tickets on a similar contraption a few years ago, I stood and queued behind my competitors for a go.
The fact 80% of those in front of me were 6-8 year old girls of course is irrelevant and a point you shouldnt focus on too much.
As they barely got past 18mph, 19 mph I knew I had a personal best of around 32 mph to call on, having beat then Falcons captain Phil Dowson who only managed 28 mph and thus meaning Stuart Lancaster should be calling anytime soon.
Therefore our heart sank when it turned out Wasps Joe Simpson had set a speed of 48 mph. Your prize for beating this? Only the WORLD RECORD. Ah. Knowing my limits, after a couple of goes around the 31 mph mark, I gave up and let the 8 years carry on, muttering to myself I wasnt really trying anyway and it was better to give the kids another go.
13:40
As the teams go through their warm ups we take our seats, bang on half way at ground level. The perfect view bar a rather conspicuous cameraman. Being separated from the official away allocations that were behind the goals, it was up to Ball in Touch & uncle to battle the noise of the several thousand Wasps fans surrounding us.
14:00
Kick off and as the action gets underway the tension is palpable and already fingernails are being lost.
The tension was clear on the pitch too with both sides kicking regularly and fumbling in good positions, the Falcons particularly guilty on at least four separate occasions in the Wasps 22. Nicky Robinson eventually opened the scoring with a penalty in the 36th minute before Christian Wade went over in the corner against a stretched defence after Richard Haughton had been made to look awesome by a couple of falling defenders when returning a kick. 10-0 down at half time and already there was a feeling of foreboding growing.
14:45
Half time and the consensus was what was already a difficult task was getting harder by the minute. At least 34 points or 4 tries in 40 minutes? Everything was well and truly crossed.
15:00
40 minutes of Premiership remained and even the most optimistic Falcons fan was starting to face reality with every passing minute. A late tackle by Tai Tu'ifua turned things all a bit pantomime, with the home side booing our every touch, especially Tuifuas. Cries of relegate the b*******s from a very small minority of otherwise excellent Wasps fans soured things slightly and meant Ball in Touch and uncle kept it quiet for a while until the rage frothing just behind died down. The inaction of Wayne Barnes for what was admittedly a late tackle, but not a red card, didnt help things.
Fitzpatricks try with 25 minutes to go gave a dash of false hope but it wasnt to be. After a couple of tries being held up over the line, Peter Stringers made one of his last actions of an impressive two month spell a try in the 76th minute to at least secure the win but no more.
15:40
Full time. Devastated. Gutted. Minus all finger nails. We just sat in silence as the home fans awkwardly cheered their side for not losing too badly. As the lap of honour passed us by, no one acknowledged the two Falcons fans slumped silently in their seats, choosing to avoid eye contact and instead try and get a photo with a nearby Wasps player. The bus for home didnt leave until 5 and there was no hiding from the disappointment and the fact that we hadnt been good enough.
Despite what it meant, there were no tears from these Falcons fans. The loss against Saracens the previous round had been more difficult to take as they came within centimetres of winning that one and thus today would have been oh so different.
We all knew what we were getting into this time. It was a fairy tale in a far away land hoping for a bonus point win. Going into the break 10-0 down made it tantamount to finding the winning lottery numbers of a four leaf clover. The table doesnt lie and the Falcons are the bottom side in this seasons Premiership, and all that that entails. Our hopes of history being made, of being able to say I was there, had been dashed.
15:55
With the crowd thinning we made our way to the café in the fan area. Ball in Touchs uncle doesnt drink anymore, so a Snickers was the solace of choice. As the fans mulled around it wasnt hard to tell which was which. As the Wasps fans began to celebrate what was likely to be their overall survival, never mind place in the league, the beleaguered Geordies wandered the area, topping up on food and drink ready for a long journey home.
17:00
At last allowed to leave the scene of our demise, as everyone clambered back on board a few tactically bought Greggs sausage rolls and pasties from the previous day were all Ball in Touch could muster to provide some respite as we set off again. Taking a more direct route this time, the driver turned on the radio and those that were bothered listened to the FA Cup Final as Andy Carroll scored and then scored again, but didnt actually. Another Geordie having a bad day. The onboard toilet had developed a leak and the additional bladder control required curbed most peoples drinking.
19:30
Twenty minutes at the northbound oasis of Tibshelf Services gave everyone just enough time to stretch their muscles before the last leg. Spirits were lifting by now, acceptance spreading through those in black and white. The events in Adams Park meant we didnt even feel bad about not winning the on bus raffle or first try scorer competitions.
23:00
17 hours later we turn back into Kingston Park and gather our things, the driver assuring us that anything left will be on eBay in the morning. A final short journey in the waiting cars and taxis and at last we were home. Older and wiser, as well as marginally poorer, after what many a neutral would call a wasted journey.
Well maybe, but no one mis-sold the journey to us. The odds of 1/50 for us to be relegated before the game says it all. But the life of a Falcons fan is not one of glory and hasnt been for many a year. Though we are small in number we are big in heart and voice. Sure we would love to watch the team win all the time, but that isnt the be all and end all. Not for a true supporter. That's the key bit. Support-er. As Ive written before, it is the comradierie and belonging, dreaming of what could be and now and again realising those dreams.
But, Saturday 5thMay 2012 will go down in Falcons history as a nightmare. Make no doubts about it, one of the worst days any rugby fan can have.
However, thanks to the mess that is the RFU Championship play-offs and promotion criteria, almost ridiculously relegation isnt a certainty. Even now. Therefore the next few weeks will see Bedford Blues and Cornish Pirates gain a lot of fans in the North and it will be both intriguing and agonising waiting for the results. The fat lady hasnt quite finished just yet.