An absolute Leigh Delamare at Ipswich

Last Tuesday was the first of three long trips we have to make to the four corners of the country. We’re obviously disappointed with the result, but we have to brush ourselves down, pick ourselves up and go out again. We’re still totally focussed on the goal, and that is to bring Premier League football to the city, to the club, and to the supporters who have been nothing short of magnificent in recent weeks.

When I take time out of my busy life to speak to fans, they often ask me (after pleasantries such as autographed photos and the like) what it’s like to travel the length and breadth of the country representing this magnificent club of ours.

Well, these long cross-country trips bring into focus how important team spirit is, and we have that in abundance at Cardiff. We’ve got a great set of lads here and long may that continue. Our trips away, whilst exhausting, are always enjoyable and Tuesday night was no exception.

All of the players have different routines and customs, different pastimes to help them relax on the highways and byeways of the United Kingdom. Young Aaron Wildig reads on the long journeys, he’s a big Tolstoy fan though he says he’s recently getting into Dostoevsky whilst Burkey always drives to games, as he’s afraid of bussing. We all have different ways of dealing with these sorts of games, and you have to respect that. Naughts and Tony G like to get stuck in to a slab of Kronenburg for example.

We set off early doors for Ipswich on Tuesday and in a break with tradition Naughts and Tony G crack open a couple of tinnies before we’ve even crossed the Bridge. I’ve been in the game for almost twenty years so knew immediately that they’d made a mistake. They’d polished off a whole slab of Kronenburg by Bristol and they’re on tequila slammers before Leigh Delamare. By this point they are both screaming at Gavin Rae to stop the bus. Naughts is squirming in his seat, desperate for a piss, whilst Tony G has got the munchies.

Needless to say, Gav is fuming, not only does he have to put up with Naughts and Tony G whilst attempting to drive the bus, but Darcy is also giving him grief. You see, Josh Magennis is injured and hasn’t travelled with the squad, so Darcy’s having to play Monster Truck Top Trumps on his own. We haven’t even got to the M25 and the former Plymouth Argyle, Wales U21 international is already bored! I’ve texted Burkey telling him to come and join us at the services. “rofl” he’s texted back, but that’s Burkey all over.

Gavin Rae pulls the bus over into Leigh Delamare and parks it over four or five disabled spaces. He’s a great driver, but even he’ll admit his parking isn’t the greatest. He’s muttering something about “not making good time” when the majority of the players stream off the bus. Naughts is restless in his seat. You see, he is a great bloke, no one can deny that, but he’s banned from Leigh Delamare services by virtue of a court order, there’s a line of thinking that says he probably shouldn’t even have been in the car park.

Naughts is left on the coach on the back seat with Gabor. Gabor daren’t not go out in public in his pre-shaved state. Naughts is (obviously) wearing just his Dangermouse underpants - as is his custom travelling to away games. Tony G yells back “Don’t worry, I’ll get you something to piss in”. We send Whitts ahead to check there’s no Palace there to ambush us, I don’t want another incident with Sean Derry in Costa Coffee I can tell you. Whitts sees the coast is clear and waves us all in.

It’s the usual chaos in the services, as it always is when Cardiff are in town. Darcy is pestering Steve McPhail for a couple of quid to buy some Monster Munch and 7UP. Chopra’s on the one armed bandits and Ross McCormack’s playing Sega Rally. Steve McPhail is trying to find the toilets but just ends up going around in circles.

After much banter we all get back onto the coach. Tony G is carrying two 1L bottles of Um Bongo and two bags of twelve white bread rolls. “Two for one!!” Tony explains and sits down. As we pull out of the services, Whitts is showing off a bag full of assorted cassettes he swiped from the shop. You never know what you’re going to get with Whitts, sometimes it’s Country, sometimes it’s Trance. But that’s what we all love about him, you never know what you’re going to get. Naughts still needed somewhere to pee and it soon became clear what needed to be done. Ross McCormack, always up for a challenge, begins drinking the Um Bongo, and it’s finished within a matter of seconds. I still maintain that Ross is one of the best finishers in the squad, if not the division.

Soon after Naughts is urinating (just like the number of games coming up in March) ‘thick and fast’ into an empty Um Bongo bottle. Needless to say, Ross, affected immediately by the litre of Um Bongo and is quite literally bouncing off the walls. They say that there’s no artificial additives in the likes of Um Bongo, but I’m not so sure. He’s soon convinced Gav to play one of Whitts’ stolen cassettes and to the dulcet tones of “Stars” by “Simply Red” the bus is rocking.

On the back seat Naughts is looking far happier with an empty bladder and Tony G is polishing off the rolls whilst sipping the other bottle of Um Bongo. For me, drinking lager on the way to a match is one thing, but eating two dozen bread rolls is a severe error of judgment. Being weighed down by that much wheat is the sort of decision that can cost you when you’re chasing games late in the second half. But Tony is still young, and will learn with experience.

The party is continuing on the bus. At the front Terry Burton is using a shin-pad as a makeshift microphone and is crooning along. (It’s no surprise, he used to tour the clubs and pubs of the South West back in the day). Steve McPhail is “big fish-little fish-cardboard box”-ing it, whilst Peter Enckelman is pulling shapes that can only have been learned in a Finnish nightclub. Needless to say, we’re having a great time, until Tony Capaldi spots Gavin Rae attempting to get a conga going near the back of the coach. “WHO’S DRIVING THE BUS!?”, the former Plymouth Argyle and Northern Ireland international yells.

Gavin Rae looks startled. He knows he’s made a mistake. It can happen to the best of us though. In the heat of the moment, emotion can take over and you can do something rash. The bus is veering off into the central reservation until a quick thinking McPhail stops his early 90s dance moves to chip an errant bread roll into the path of Michael Chopra. The ex-Newcastle United forward takes the roll on his chest and starts running towards the front of the bus. After a quick one-two with Jay Bothroyd, Chops fires the bread roll at the steering wheel sending the bus back on course, and away from danger. Great vision from Stevie Mac and a wonderful shot from Chops. It’s what we’re all about. By this time Gav had re-taken control of the bus and we were cruising down the M4 at a steady 95mph.

In the meleé Darcy had cheekily swapped Tony G’s Um Bongo for the bottle Naughts had pissed into. Needless to say, when Tony took a first swig from the bottle her knew something was wrong. The viscous brown-yellow liquid was warm, and Tony explained after “slightly chunky”. Tony instantly clocked it was Darcy who had done it and locked the poor chap in an overhead luggage compartment. He was only let out once Terry Burton and Tony Capaldi took pity on him near Chelmsford Services the A12. But that’s Tony for you, typical Scouser.

Cardiff City face Leicester City in a play-off battle at The Walkers Stadium on Saturday. Kick-off is at 3pm.