Trains, Trials and Tribulations: Supporting a Championship club at (almost) every game in a season

Weary from a long day’s travel to and from Carrow Road, our 20:02 Chiltern service from London Marylebone rolled into Leamington Spa on time, and for the final time this season.

It had been a fruitful day’s work. Norwich had ran riot against an already-relegated Cardiff City side, we hadn’t missed our train down to London, and we had discovered a new favourite craft beer at a quaint Marylebone pub waiting for our last train.

It hadn’t, though, been a particularly good season to support the team at pretty much every game, up and down the country. Norwich had lost far more games than they had won, sacked their manager, and until recently, were very much in fear of relegation to League One.

Despite this, there was still a sombre air as the train deposited us vaguely near our student housing for the last time. It hadn’t been a successful season, yes, but it had been one full of laughs.

The season began in Northampton all the way back in July, the day before England’s doomed European Championship final against Spain. I had stayed overnight in nearby Luton (so you don’t have to), having spent a few days in Estonia catching some European qualifiers.

Early highlights included squandering £200 as Norwich capitulated 2-0 on the opening day to a newly-promoted Oxford United

While the Northampton game was hardly spectacular, it was a prelude to that week’s trip to Club Brugge in Belgium. Pre-season fixtures are essentially meaningless, but they do offer the perfect opportunity to combine watching Norwich play in Europe (given we will never actually qualify for European competition) and exploring new places.

Bruges was brilliant. Beautiful architecture, fascinating history, and classic Belgian cuisine of chocolate and waffles. It’s just a shame the game was actually taking place at the club’s academy stadium in Roeselare, eighteen miles away from the city and a twenty-minute walk (or, as we found out, a ten-minute run) from the local train station. Not ideal when the last train for our hotel in Lille, France, left before full-time.

Pre-season over, it was time to embark on yet another Sky Bet Championship campaign. Early highlights included squandering £200 as Norwich capitulated 2-0 on the opening day to a newly-promoted Oxford United, conceding within about a minute of kick-off at Crystal Palace in the Carabao Cup, and enduring a twelve-hour round trip as Swansea City turned us over.

The fun, though, was only just about to begin. In late September, it was time to move back to the Midlands for the beginning of term, which meant comparatively shorter rounds trips to away games. What’s more, a surprisingly sizeable contingent of Norwich fans at Warwick meant those five litre kegs of Paulaner from the Leamington branch of Majestic Wines went down a little easier.

A triumphant trip to Derby County and a return home to witness a 4-0 demolition of Hull City soon saw us dreaming of promotion to the Premier League but, as always, Norwich were on hand to keep our hopes firmly grounded. A seven-game winless win followed, including dismal trips to Stoke City, Preston North End, and West Bromwich Albion.

The Preston game also marked the first time (admittedly, of many) that watching Norwich would have to take precedence over attending Wednesday morning seminars.

The Queens Park Rangers/Portsmouth away doubleheader was as bad as it would get for us this season: no goals; freezing temperatures; Norwich fans fighting on the concourse; and not even initially being allowed in the away end (make of that what you will).

Collecting ten points from a possible twelve over Christmas and New Year’s soon reignited those age-old hopes of reaching the playoffs. Actually, encouraging wins over Watford and Swansea kept us well within reach until early March when, of course, another classically-Norwich winless run finally put these hopes to bed.

The last two-week international break of the season saw me back in Norfolk for the Easter holidays by the time Plymouth Argyle away – the date I’d been dreading – reared its head. Even from university, the journey to Plymouth would take four hours. From home, it would be as-near-as-makes-no-difference double that. That’s a long way to travel to see us down 2-0 in twenty minutes.

Football, and sports in general, have never been about watching along on television. They’re about being there, hugging the stranger next to you when your team wins, and still being there next time after they don’t

I did intend on undertaking some ambitious, scientific plan of calculating just how much attending (nearly) every game in a season would cost altogether, but since my memory won’t allow that, a guesstimate will have to do.

I’ve been to fifty games this season across all competitions. Assuming each match ticket cost a generous £20, that’s a grand in tickets alone. And, seeing as Norwich is miles away from basically anywhere else on this planet, I can confidently say travel totalled more than that.

The big question is… has it all been worth it? Financially, this season has been absolutely catastrophic. Yet, just one week on from that final game, I already miss it. Football, and sports in general, have never been about watching along on television. They’re about being there, hugging the stranger next to you when your team wins, and still being there next time after they don’t.

It’s been one of the most forgettable seasons in recent memory for Norwich. But there have been so many moments on and off the pitch that I’ll never forget.