The Journey

Bromley are playing their first National League home game this coming Saturday and, as has been the case since the mid-1970s, I will be going. Even at fifty-one years of age, I’m looking forward to it.

My matchday routine has changed over the years, but the walk remains roughly the same. I’ll leave home at 2 pm with my twelve-year-old son and we’ll walk down Homesdale Road and Hayes Lane, cutting through the leisure centre on the way to the turnstiles.

We observe the same routine: a wave to Machel in the press box (or a quick chat if I can get past the security guard), grab a team sheet from Matt, offer a nod and a hello to familiar faces in the main stand, queue for chips and a can of Fanta (my son’s usual) and a coffee for myself, and maybe a KitKat if I need to add a little sugar to my caffeine hit.