A night out in Crawley

In the early seasons of AFC Wimbledon I was a home and away supporter, however since the Club has been promoted to the National Conference, my away appearances have dried up. In large part because of the cost involved but also because away games involve such a large proportion of he weekend.

This week, however, our away fixture against Crawley was moved to a Friday night to accommodate TV. Friday night remains in my opinion a stupid night for football, however since his was 1v2 in the league, I could resist the chance to follow the Dons. Now if Friday night is a daft time for football ,it's an even dafter time to drive round the M25. So not wishing to sit in a long queue at the Dartford Bridge and with the cost of petrol soaring to 135p a litre locally. To Crawley by train was the train method of choice.

In principle this would have meant a chance to get some reading now,and indeed by the time I reached London Bridge station I was half way through the week's copy of the New Statesman. Friday night is also not a good time to get on a time at 5.30pm in London, least of all one that stops at Gatwick Airport on route to its final destination. I discovered later that many of the passengers accept being herded like unfortunate farm animals onto his local service, because he rail company charges extra to travel direct to the airport.

Anyway I contented myself with the thought that at least I don't have to do this every day. Ah the advantages of working within 6 miles from home in Essex. Living the station and I met up with some friends for the route march to Crawley's ground. The ticketting arrangements for the game were shambolic, and there's little doubt that the area designated for us might have been adequate for 600 people but not the close to 800 that rammed into it.

Crawley are the antithesis of our approach to football. An expensive squad put together by private finance, that we argued was unsustainable given their small fanbase. All that was before their recent FA Cup run that ended with a trip to Old Trafford to play Manchester United. Now of course they have a whole raft of new supporters and are buoyed by a huge boost in their coffers.

The opening twenty minutes seemed to confirm the worst, that money talks in football. We were two goals down and somewhat lucky to get nought. Crawley seemed superior all over the pitch. However we pulled a goal back before half time, and it seemed that we might get a share of the points, especially as Crawley were reduced to ten men following a red card. At the start of the second half the game was decided within twenty seconds we hit both posts twice and minutes later Crawley broke and scored what would be the decisive goal. At 3-1 there was no coming back. Normally I'd see the entire game, but realising the possibility that as away supporters we might be kept back at the end of the game, I decided to slip out a few minutes early. Hurrying to get the 22.00 train ensured I was back home by 1am, at least I got a seat coming home.