Football Season 2006/07

The new season started today.. Saturday's are now priority to GFC and all other events depend on their on importance...it can wreak havoc with the social life.. ha ha. That assumes I have a social life.

So at noon I am having my usual panic before leaving the house... I opt for my royal blue vest top and pin my Gills badge to the right hand side. I have a book, camera and walkman. Tubes - fair to middling get me to Victoria Stn. Then bedlam looms. Why oh why oh why are there not enough machines/ticket windows open? The queue says 15 mins wait. I only have 15 minutes before my train leaves. So I join a queue sprawling out from a man with a hand held ticket machine. I choose the queue with a few people in front of me - but each wants to hear the time table receited.

Patience on match day is not my forte. I do though get my zone 3 - Gills return and head for Platform 2.
Seated I reflect...

What drives me to go? I have little hope for a season full of cup wins and promotion. The club is financially holding on by a shoe string and the new signings - well I reserve judgement until I have seen them. It's like a relative has got married and there are now a whole lot of new family members to suss out. Give them some space and see how they do is the best policy to start with.

There are a few Huddersfield fans on the train - but even fewer Gills ones - they went down earlier no doubt to pick up tickets. I plug in some music. The train is heaving. Lots of noise and smells of fast food. The sun beats through the window but the air conned train is cool enough. We arrive at Gillingham Station. It doesn't change much. There are no police at the station and very few fans hanging around outside. We lost police at the station status when we dropped to Division One. (I resent that, face the facts kids we are in Division THREE!) I begin to wonder if today is really the first match of the season. I wander down the road...

Balmoral Road is no different. If anything after the break I notice the run down peeling paintwork and litter much more. The dog's crap on the pavement. The unwanted sofa's in the front gardens. The rubbish spilling out of the bins. There is no singing and apart from the view of the floodlights you would not even know there was a game on. The house on the corner of Balmoral has finally released its tennants. Can't say I am surprised. Amazed maybe that the structure is still in tact. For visiting fans this is not exactly the garden of England view that Kent likes to promote. It's not posh. It's not exactly well kept - but it's the way the Medway Towns are. Devoid of an industry it relies on the commuting masses to bring money to the area. The streets are quiet. The few kids which are about strutt down the roads without a fear in the world, some even in Chelsea shirts. Grr. I stride on. I did not grow up here, but the walk to the ground is like a home coming. So many highs and lows felt up and down this stretch of Medway concrete.

The walk into Redfern Avenue is always heartening. The away team coach safe in the coach port. The fans in the club shop, queuing out into the street from the ticketing offices. The Blues Rock Cafe. My dad waiting for me in his summer time Gills shirt. Sunglasses replace bobble hats and scarfs. Here we are again. The relentless faith - or pointless hope - I can't decide. The next 90 minutes could go either way. You never know. We are not Chelsea. Victory is not guaranteed. We have no super signing on the pitch or on the bench. But we have the Rainham End. We have 'the Last Waltz'. We have 'we are the Middle... the left side ... the right side Rainham End'. We have a belief - a commitment to our team. We have Matthew Jarvis. Twiglet legs Mulligan. Ian Cox. Mr Sanchos and new boys. How will I feel not having Jason Brown in goal? It won't be the same. But a few wins and you know what its all forgotten.

The same old crew sit in front and to the side of us. One of the twins turns up. Says hello as ever. The family in front let the 2 daughters scoot off at 3.40 for their half time grub. The pies have shrunk and they are not impressed. So they return for two portions of twiglet sized chips. The annoying blokes from behind us did not appear. Instead a family with small kids. The boys singing shrilly. Somehow that is preferable to constant swearing, belching and to be honest mindless talking about anything except the game. At least the young lads seem to be getting behind our boys. Again how long that will last I know not.

So here we are again. Row Q Block A.

The weather will change. The crowd will swell and dwindle depending on the results. The pies may get restored to last season's order. The opposition will bring a few fans or it will fill the away end. The ref will be a W****** or a genius. The team will have highs and lows. Injuries and transfers. The manager will be a Barmy Army leader or he will be taunted and wished out.

I guess it's all these things which drive me. Their predictability etched with complete and utter unpredictability. It's only a game - but it's my game and come sun or rain I'll be there - observing from seat 23. Watching the game. Watching the fans and feeling the ups and downs as keenly as all those who are the middle rainham end. And the feeling when we score...? well if I have to explain it to you, then I suspect the entire post has been wasted on you.

UTG.