I didn’t make it to Kidderminster in the end. I was booked on the coach, but my alarm failed me when I needed it most – and why oh why did it wait until a Sunday? What was wrong with all those other days it dutifully woke me in time for work, why wait until a football day? Annoyingly, I woke up naturally at about 9.30, with an hour until the coach left but stuck fifteen miles out in the sticks having missed the bus from Dorking and no alternative trains due to engineering work.
To be fair, this has happened to me before… cast your minds back to New Years Day – but that was mainly down to having arrived in the country on a transatlantic flight at 5AM being too knackered to set the bloody thing. And I vaguely remember missing a train to Portsmouth from Surbiton back in my teenage years, but beyond that if its football I’m getting up for, my body and mind do a pretty good job of combining to raise me in time.
So I was forced to listen to the game on WDON… as I have suggested previously I would rather be anywhere when the Dons are playing than stuck in front of my computer… obviously, the ideal would be whichever ground they happen to be playing in at the time, which is kind of the point. But failing that, the cinema is a good option, shopping, whatever. Regular readers will know, however, that in the near future I won’t have the option of attending games, regardless of how early in the morning I wake up…
This was not intended to be a ‘Woe is me, I’m moving away and won’t be able to watch the Dons’ type article (It was actually intended to be a ‘Woe is me, Wimbledon lost’ one…) but while we here we might as well. I can’t go to the cinema every week, I will have to do what every other far flung Dons does and learn to love Mikey T. I suppose at this point I better clarify, I’m not saying WDON is poor; it’s funny, has a knowledgeable and charismatic host, and is as biased as any Dons fan could want without the spectacles becoming too blue-tinted. Without doubt, it is the best possible radio service a Dons fan could ask for…What I’m saying is – it’s a poor substitute to actually being there. Come Darlington away (for at the moment that is my last planned Dons game), I’ll be reliant on the service.
It’s funny… I’ve always considered far-flung Dons the true heroes of the AFC Wimbledon success story. Keeping the love alive, across borders, continents, hundreds, in some cases thousands of miles away. But then I would say that… in a few months time I’ll be one of them.
As for Kidderminster, I should take my personal responsibility for the defeat. If I had managed to get myself out of bed in time… well, I had confidence the team would get a result. Those of you who know of the Butterfly Effect, or have even seen the much underrated film of the same name featuring the much wooden Ashton Kutcher will know, my presence could have had a huge bearing on Sundays timeline… merely interfering with the ball at the right time when it was kicked into the stand; joining in with a song and thus slightly affecting local weather patterns; even the minor act of buying a pie and adding to the weight on the away terrace sloping it towards us even by a Planck length… the Dons could have won, man… They could have won.
I’ll carry the consequences until my dying day, or at least until we won promotion and a single result didn’t matter anymore. Perhaps your reading this wondering how arrogant an individual I am, that my mere presence at a game would have an effect on the result – well, you may have a point. Maybe we lost because, erm, I don’t know, young players are inconsistent and had difficulty raising themselves for a low key game a few days after one of the biggest performances of their career so far? And that this might be a reason, rather than an excuse? Well, how the hell would I know?… I wasn’t even there…