Should I Stay or Should I Go??

For me one of the few downsides to married life when compared to my days as a young, free and single bloke is that my opportunities to be spontaneous and act on a whim are increasingly limited and a case in point will occur next weekend when Brighton and Hove Albion FC travel to play Sheffield Wednesday at Hillsborough.

I'm itching to go quite frankly as the last time I saw the Albion in the flesh was when they played Stockport County a few years back courtesy of my sister Michaela and her family as a birthday present ... the game (a 1-1 draw if I remember rightly?) was mainly memorable for a ding dong on the touchline involving a hot as lava Sammy McIlroy (the County boss at the time) who was clearly having a bad combover hair day as it might have been windy ... judging by how the ball was flying madly all over the place it no doubt was.

Whatever the quality of the game it was just so refreshing and enlivening to be back amongst the Albion faithful even if I felt mostly out of synch with the chants having not been to any home games at the old and now defunct Goldstone since the mid-90's and thus was playing catch-up songs-wise as well as watching the game.

It's all very well following a side through the media on the Beeb's Five Live, Sky Sports and in the Guardian and the like but you can never get a real sense of course for how the season is likely to shape up from cold and hard stats as much as you can from seeing the raw effort and passion put in by your heroes as they hopefully bust a gut (and heaven forbid a groin or achilles tendon) for the club ... from that you can decide whether unbridled optimism is realistic or not and go from there.

Back in April when my bike was in rude health or in other words the frame was properly aligned and the gear indexing whirred quite merrily (a sound accentuated beautifully by the ultra-tranquil and serene surroundings of the Peak District and specifically the Snake Pass aka the plain old A57 to route planners) I cycled the 40 odd miles that separates Salford from the South Yorkshire city to stay overnight with some generous hosts in my aunt and uncle whose window view overlooks the type of countryside that if you were rendered housebound for whatever reason would make the whole experience a joy to behold and make you consider grumbling about your lot the height of bad manners.

Gruelling as you'd expect and mainly so on the ascent after the market town of Glossop with a three mile stretch of smooth but energy-sapping sinuous tarmac I surprised myself with my enthusiasm to keep on going despite having never encountered this sort of terrain in Salford where the streets appear to be suffering from some kind of pothole lurgy and the steepest climb I've found so far is close to where I live with a 15% gradient for about 150 metres or so.

I'll admit to dismounting a short way in to the first climb but from there I made Sheffield in around another two and a bit hours and was whizzing along the lumpy lanes at times like I was a sole breakaway rider in one of the Grand Tours or so I'd like to dream ... stopping off at one other point to ease some cramp in my hands (a first for me) I made very good progress and the following day despite it being hillier going back I made even better time and only got off to have a couple of bottles of Coke and even the pros take those if you watch closely.

However much your legs can be burning the buzz you get as you turn onto a flattish section and can look back on your achievement of the last two miles or so of a steadily rising hill is something I heartily recommend to anyone able to get on a bike safely.

The descent (as much a thrill as any fairground ride you could mention as you seem to freefall minus a parachute at around 35 miles an hour and I was being passed easily by more seasoned guys) into Glossop is wonderful and sets you up for the ride back into Manchester and beyond that home sweet home.

All in all I had a ball even if in hindsight it might be that that was where things started to go awry for the bike leading to a six week hiatus since the end of June waiting for the German manufacturers Focus to fulfil their national stereotype and return it promptly as good as new ... tick tock as I'm still waiting ... clearly they could learn a lesson or two from their national football side.

My faith can last til this Monday though and then I can make the decision as to whether a trip to the game is on or not ... just don't tell the wife yeah!!!