On Monday, I spent the day in London at the Setanta Sports studios with a bunch of strangers adorned in a mutlitude of garish colours with an assortment of badges affixed to them.
Fans from different Premier League clubs came together to represent their clubs, to exchange information on players and to get their faces on TV.
We had all been invited because the lovely people at Setanta wanted to get a fan to represent each Premier League club as the clock ticked down on a rather subdued final day of the transfer window.
It was subdued because firstly it finished at five o'clock - nothing ever happens at five o'clock - and secondly because there was not much transfer action to talk about.
Arshavin to Arsenal was on, off, on again, then completely not going to happen until they eventually signed him. Meanwhile, Robbie Keane headed back to Spurs after his expensively pointless move to Liverpool in the summer.
Incidently, whilst there was a random Rangers fan in the mix, the fans from Manchester (both United and City) were beaten by the inclement weather.
The transfer window is a rather nice metaphor for the season. Some teams will always win out whilst others are used to the disappointment. For some clubs, mistakes are made and sometimes fixed. Plus there is all the excitement and worry.
'Window' is appropriate as it is a time for opportunists, a chance to slip in and take something that may not strictly belong to you but which you like the look of.
Managers like Harry Redknapp, Mark Hughes and Alex Ferguson usually manage to squeeze more out of it than anyone else and smaller clubs find the window shuts whilst they are still looking around.
To be strictly accurate, I spent the majority of the day trudging through the snow and running to catch trains, tubes and taxis before they were added to the 'out of service' list. Getting to London in the first place was a nightmare. It is amazing how the weather shuts everything down.
I bet the Russians are laughing - "You stop buying our electricity and we will send you our freezing winds until it snows!" No matter how much warning we get, a little bit of the white stuff comes down and the country grinds to a halt.
My timetable before I set off read:
1) Train from Middlesbrough to Darlington - 7.44am.
2) Darlington to King's Cross - 8.22am.
3) Get Tube, change line at South Kensington.
4) Arrive at meeting place for refreshments at 12.30pm before being escorted to the Setanta studio.
Ah the best laid plans and all that...
As anyone unfortunate enough to need to travel on Monday will know, trains out of Middlesbrough were rarer than consecutive games featuring Robert Huth.
But showing the determination that some of our players have been sorely lacking of late, I refused to give up and was rewarded with a train. Almost two hours later.
My replacement connection to London was also delayed as the train in front broke down and then there were not enough platforms open at King's Cross due to 'electrical problems'.
Most of the Tubes weren't working except the ever reliable Piccadilly Line which got me half way to my destination. A very nice taxi driver who couldn't understand my accent did the rest. I arrived at five to two.
But let's not get bogged down with the details! All's well that doesn't start well but gets better! I made it and we were all escorted to the studio.
Having bought a new child sized Boro home shirt (mine is away and big enough to fit several layers under) and an MFC white fleecey zip up top aged eight to nine years (I'm just small, okay) prior to Saturday's match, I was properly kitted out to represent the Boro.
Sat in the studio, first thawing out and then burning up under the studio lights, we all had plenty of time to get to know each other.
There is a nice kind of camaraderie about football fans. Despite all the (very real) rivalries between us, it is rare that you can't start a conversation with a fan from any team. This is because we are football fans first and foremost. The shared passion breaks the ice every time.
At one point, part of our rehearsal was accidently broadcast, but as no one had used profane language, it was safe!
Many of us had taken part in Setanta's football phone-in with Lisa and Steve. Some, like myself, were on the Sunday evening slot so it was nice to see Lisa Bridges and Steve Claridge in person.
In between recordings, Steve Claridge took it upon himself to (good naturedly?) wind up just about everyone regarding their teams.
I was easy to spot for two reasons. Firstly, apart from Lisa, I was the only woman in the room and secondly, according to my sister, I kept giggling and pulling faces in reaction to what other people were saying.
I got linked together with Gareth the Pompey fan, presumably because of our dodgy managerial situations.
Gareth said: "I think you are more conspicuously Boro!". Whatever could he mean?
Anyone who knows me will know that cameras make me nervous and I prefer to interview than the other way round.
However, having managed to get my ass to London (note to the Boro boys, that's what you call dedication), I was thrilled when I got a (brief) moment with Lisa on air, especially as she had insisted that as the only girl there and one of the people who had travelled the furthest, I should be on.
I am also notorious for my appalling sense of direction, entire lack of map/sign reading skills and propensity to get lost so just getting there was a major achievement.
After the show, the Sunderland fan and I navigated the Tube and sat together on the train before parting ways at Darlington station. See, we can all get along when we try.
The question I am now constantly asked is "Was it worth it?"
This is a question we Boro fans ask ourselves a lot. Is it worth the money, the travelling and the stress?
I enjoyed my time at Setanta, met some great people and got a bit more used to cameras.
And the Boro?
I'll let you know next season!
First published on www.ComeOnBoro.com on 4/2/2009
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