Keep Right On

It's a tough life being a football fan. Especially if you're one of those poor sods who decides to actually watch your team in the flesh. And even more so if you follow them around the country. I am one of those people.

And as you may or may not know (or care), I am a Birmingham City fan. Which in itself could be considered a mental health condition. Alas, if it is, it's an incurable one. On the bright side, I am not alone in my er, affliction. Which is a real bonus. Knowing that when you're driving hundreds of miles, in the middle of winter to far-flung locations, other deluded souls are doing the same. They may be on a coach, a train or in a car but the calling is the same. And as a Birmingham supporter, that calling is often unrewarded.

Now if you have no interest in footie, that's fine. This is more about shared emotions. There can be moments of great joy. Sheer, unadulterated happiness and euphoria. There can be long periods of tedium, frustration and anger. And there can be times of desolation, despair and utter hopelessness. And all of these emotions are shared with thousands of strangers.

Sharing such intense emotions with people you don't know can be a liberating experience and one that is hard to replicate outside of a football stadium, unless you consider other sports which attract a lifelong, generational following. It's just that football seems include a wider spectrum of the population. A broader demographic range of people which makes that sharing of feelings so much more surprising.

And travelling to an away game intensifies the experience even more. You're surrounded by people who really care about their club. They make the time and financial commitment that others don't. So their passion and emotion is concentrated and heightened. And being amongst hundreds or even thousands of people with that much investment in 90 minutes of sporting action can be addictive. 

Which is why I drove a 310 mile round trip to see my team take on Ipswich Town. I won't bore you with the details of the match or even an account of our season so far (that really is another story) but suffice to say that 'turgid' is a word that springs to mind. OK, it was 1-1 but even this drab affair resulted in passionate discussions, shared frustrations and a sense of all being in it together. A kind of dark humour. A shared struggle couple with a wry smile and of course, some rude songs. 

It's kind of appropriate that the club's anthem (sung at every match) is 'Keep Right On (To The End Of The Road)'. And we do indeed keep right on. 

Even when the road is full of potholes.

Five Years On

Lawks. It appears that I last posted on here almost 5 years ago. Should I pleased about this because it shows just how busy and fun-filled my life has been since 2012, or should be full of morose sadness because I've not kept my blog going?

Answer?Neither. Well, maybe both. Oh I don't know. There are positives and negatives. On the bright side, my business (wot I began in 2011) has gone from strength to strength and takes up plenty of my time - hence my lack of posting on here.

On the down side, there have been so many amusing and entertaining moments in the last 5 years, I wish I'd shared them with you.

Ah, tis the old story isn't it? We all say that 'time flies' and before you know it, the years have zipped by and you suddenly realise how many things you never did that you wished you had. But there you go. Such is life. The best thing to do is just get on with it and never regret anything. Apart from that incident on the bus with sex toy and the badger.

Anyway, I may as well get on with it then. Last week I was filming in lovely Edinburgh. Considering it was mid-March, the weather was positively balmy. One of the highlights had to be filming at the rather stunning National Museum of Scotland (see pic). Not only did I get to film there I also enjoyed a posh dinner too. Oh lucky me.

However, the most memorable moment of my trip was, as I was driving back to Nottingham (a momentous journey of 5 hours) I headed up a slip road, there was a brilliant sign statin I was NOT allowed to take my horse and cart onto the motorway. Was this 1897? Nope, it was definitely 2017.

It just goes to show you however many years go by, some things never change.