Amazing Away Days

One of the great things about football, and there are many, are the days out to far-flung outposts of the UK (and beyond), encountering strange new towns and odd, potentially aggressive new people that wear different colour shirts to you. The adventure is part of the allure, as is the boozing on the train.

The Saturday just past was Reading's first away game of the season, to our locallest of local derbies this season, Portsmouth, the city where I attend university.

Thinking it would be an easy day out, seeing as I do such the journey there many times a year, I would know the place inside out, where to drink, where to eat, no chance of getting lost and so on. So it twas, that on the morning of the 14^th August, I met my mate and his girlfriend at Basingstoke station and we headed to the coast.

But alas, that was the only part of the day that was to go to plan, an easy day out was not going to be had.

The plan was to go to my new flat and have a few drinks there before casually strolling to the ground in the sun, enjoying the game before heading back home at about 7ish. However, this plan failed at the first hurdle. The key to my flat snapped in the lock. 'Bollocks' I immediately thought, 'it's going to be one of those days.' And so it was.

What followed for the next two hours was yours truly frantically running from the flat, to the estate agents and back again many times, leaving my mate and his other half to try to get the broken half of the key out of the lock with no tools but their fingernails.

Eventually, I was told I needed to call out a locksmith. Cue 45 minutes agonised waiting as the minutes to kick-off ticked down, followed by annoyance at having to pay 90 quid call out, just to get the lock sorted (there was also a downed can of cider in between those two events but that's neither here nor there).

From there, a taxi was ordered to Fratton station, where I ran to get a new key cut before wading through a million intimidating Portsmouth fans to get to the Reading end. Finally, to top it off, the walk back to my flat was in the worst rain ever, my Converse are still wet it was so bad.

Still, it's become something of a tradition for my away days to go awry. Watford last year- my cousin lost his ticket. Bristol City last year- my mate and I walked right past the pub we were meant to go to before he got involved in a 'heated dispute' with a steward. Manchester City in 2007- our coach gets stopped by police. Derby County in 2008- uncle gets bruised ribs, Reading get relegated and my boss from work sees me after I didn't technically ask for the day off.

Ah well, QPR away up next for me. Wonder what will be next to spoil/make my away day.