Better To Have Travelled And Lost Than Not to Have Travelled At All

Bath City were away to Dover yesterday, where they lost 2-1 in heartbreaking fashion. I was not there to see it, due to two main reasons: the Dover Athletic fixture is the farthest away of the season, and Mrs Nedved had an important work event over this weekend. Bringing both boys with me on a nine and a half hour round trip wasn't feasible (although this did not stop the supporter club chairman, Powell, from trying to convince Little Nedved Junior to 'ask Daddy to take him to the seaside on the supporters coach' during half time at the Lewes match).

As a result I had to follow the match online through a combination of Sean's 'City Update' site and posts on the Bath City forum. Sitting in front of a computer screen for two hours waiting for brief bits of text to either send me into rapture or despair has always seemed a very antisocial sort of activity. In normal society this sort of behaviour is a sign that someone has become a bit too involved in some Internet community, and perhaps it is time for concerned family members to stage an 'intervention.' For non-league fans it is just the normal routine of away matches, and, as far as we are concerned, perhaps it is time for concerned family members to stop bugging us and go do something else quietly in a far away place!

I'm not really that bad (yet). Because I am a kind and gracious sort of person I offered to let Big Nedved Junior play computer games on one window of the computer with the understanding that every so often Daddy is allowed to check the City score in the other window. This is amicably agreed to and is probably healthier for me as well. Despite the odd bit of pacing I did managed to go several minutes once without worrying about the score.

A good match summary of what happened, written by Kelston Kopite, can be found here. In a nutshell, my two hours went like this: worry because of the unusual lineup brought on by the injury crisis, slight hope after City managed to keep Dover from scoring in the first half, a mad dash to the church hall during halftime to pick up Little Nedved Junior from yet another birthday party, an inevitable seeming sense of disappointment after Dover did manage a goal at 51 minutes, absolute elation when the news came through that Edwards had chipped in a goal in the 91st minute, and then confusion, frustration and unfocused anger after the message from Sean came in saying Dover had won the match in the last few seconds.

Before the match hardly anyone thought that City's chances were good. Dover were top of the league and City were in the grip of an unrelenting run of injuries. The only thing that gave City fans any real hope at all was the scrappy determination City's players have demonstrated over the last few seasons when playing good teams away from home. By all accounts the City players did deliver in this respect. Actually taking a point from this match had been beyond my wildest dreams. Needless to say, Edwards' goal had me dancing around the sitting room. Losing from that position made the pain a lot worse than it would have been. There had not even been enough time between the good news and the bad news for Big Nedved Junior to roll his eyes and say, 'Daddy, please!'

After losing the match so dramatically, a long coach journey home faced both players and fans. There would have been more than enough time to work though the shock, denial, and acceptance they all must have been feeling. I suppose I should have been grateful that I did not have to endure this myself. I should have been grateful that I had not expended precious brownie points on an away match that ended in heartbreak. But, surprisingly, even to myself, that is not how I feel.

Losing away does hurt, but missing a match entirely is its own form of loss. Let's face it, non-league fans are not in it for the glory. Glory, or what passes for it, can be obtained quickly, easily, and cheaply for the price of a replica Man U shirt and an afternoon pint of lager at a pub with a Sky Sports subscription. Being a non-league fan is about an experience. It is an experience with at least as much disappointment as exhilaration. It is not meant to be easy and it certainly is not always enjoyable (why we are crazy enough to engage in such an unpromising activity is another question - but for now we will just accept that we do).

Not being there means not having seen Lewis Hogg have a great performance out of his natural position. It means not having seen Florin Pelecaci play his first game in a Bath City shirt. It means not having watched Darren Edwards cock his ear at the Dover fans after he brought his team within sight of a precious away point. It means not watching the City players devastated by the unexpected defeat, and mostly it means not having shared this experience with them.

All seasons have highs and lows. This match has made me realise how much I want to experience both. Even when (maybe especially when) it hurts.