3 Tykes, 2 Nights, 1 Game in Turin.

left - fulham end.

left - myself and jonny

As the son of someone who saw Rovers host Newport County in front of 800, I was never allowed the apparent luxury of being a ‘glory hunter’. You don’t choose your team, your team (or dad) chooses you and you stick by it. 14 consecutive season tickets later I’m still going, though now it’s a pleasure of course.

However, one day my typically stubborn father, who resisted his mates cries of “don’t make him suffer too”, was persuaded by a work colleague to let me watch his side. Not just that, but for them to win promotion too.

The date was 14^th April 2000 and I missed Rovers home draw with Hayes in favour of watching Fulham gain promotion to the Premier League by winning 2-1 at Huddersfield. It felt good, but I was tinged with guilt. Despite no goals at Belle Vue, deep down I missed not being the 1170^th person watching the mid-table Conference stalemate.

Nonetheless, little did I know I was stood in the same end as Luke, a Fulham fan from Leeds. His team had been picked for him in a similar way to mine, his dad born in Hammersmith and he either liked it or lumped it. I didn’t find this out of course until we met on our first day at University a stone’s throw from the MacAlpine 9 years later.

With few Premier League teams in the area to go and see Fulham as an away fan and even fewer people sharing my soft spot for the Cottagers, I only went sparsely to games. There are many similarities between Rovers and Fulham. Both were formed in 1879, grew up in modest surroundings, aren’t the biggest club in the area and have (or had if you include Roy Hodgson) astute and quiet managers who like to play football.

It wasn’t until 2^nd January this year (after Rovers FA Cup tie at Brentford was cancelled) that I managed to make it to Craven Cottage for their tie with Swindon. From there, renewed interest in the Whites continued to the point where the opportunity came for me to travel with Luke, and his mate Jonny (a L**ds United fan) to watch Fulham away at Juventus!

I was picked up from University at Ainley Top roundabout on the M62 for Rovers Tuesday night trip to Preston. From there, I went back to Doncaster for an hour’s nap before being picked up in the early hours of Wednesday 10^th March to go down to Luton airport and fly to Milan. This was the first time I’d ever met Jonny and he said, “I know you beat us at Wembley, but we’re going up and we’re going to get Sharp!” I wasn’t going to argue, he’s bigger than me and after Billy’s penalty miss at Preston, L**ds could take him! I just promised that time would tell. Indeed it did.

Eventually we ended up in Turin, about 12 hours after setting off and took in the sights of...the pub. Topped up with local produce in the form of pizza and erm, Guinness, we headed for much needed sleep.

Game day came and there were even more Cottagers than the previous night in the Huntsman pub near Turin railway station (recommended!) These fans appeared weary from trekking around Europe taking in games at Donetsk, Basle, Vilnius (Lithuania), Perm (Russia), Sofia and Rome-enjoying the culture and local brews no doubt. However, I didn’t feel guilty at gate crashing the moment like I had in 2000, I felt privileged to be part of an 1800 strong contingent representing England on the continent.

The Fulham fans were typically humble about the experience, similar to our ‘pub team’ mentality and it was special to hear chants of “We still hate Brentford!” ring around the Stadio Olimpico. When the full time whistle went on a 3-1 defeat, there was a feeling of it-was-fun-while-it-lasted. I was unable to get the incredible return leg which Fulham won and truly put them on the map, I just ended up dancing around Walkabout in Doncaster town centre on my own. I managed two more European games, both by the Thames against Wolfsburg and then Hamburg (where a 66/1 shot came off for me!) Whoever says the Europa League isn’t taken seriously only needs to see what it meant to Roy Hodgson’s Black and White Army.

And for the record, Luke and I took Jonny back to the San Siro in Milan to relive L**ds past European glories. We reached Blighty early on the Saturday. Luckily Rovers were at home to Derby, Jonny got another couple of hours sleep before he had to set off for Southampton. I don’t envy him, but Luke? Perhaps.