Every football fan has at least one horror story to tell about a nightmare away trip. Here's mine.
Back in 2011, the then relatively new League Cup competition was played over two legs from the third round onwards. This particular year, Chonburi were drawn to play Sisaket. After scraping through 1-0 in the home tie, we had to wait a whole month before the return fixture up in the north east.
Fortunately (I thought at the time!), the scheduling of the match coincided with my holiday so, along with my wife and another mate, we decided to make the long trek up to Esarn. We booked our seats on the fan club mini-bus and waited for the big day to arrive.
It was an early start, but we'd be able to catch up on some sleep during the journey - at least, that's what we had planned. However, things didn't quite go according to the script, mainly thanks to two Russian lads who had also reserved places on the excursion. Nothing strange about this, other than no-one had seen them before and they haven't been seen since. I'm sure there's a whole other story in there somewhere.
Anyway, one of them kept up a constant stream of chatter from the minute he came on board to the minute he alighted. I've honestly never witnessed anything like it. He just didn't shut up. Even his mate looked as fed up as the rest of us, as he droned on, and on, and on, and on. It was relentless, and all in a language we couldn't understand.
Now, this wasn't the most annoying thing about our day out. No, this was only a minor sub plot in the real drama that was to unfold over the next few hours.
Even though we'd set off at 7:00am - 11 hours before kick off - it was clear to those of us with any idea of the distance involved, that more urgency would be required. The driver didn't seem to be in any sort of hurry and the numerous stops just added to our anxiety. These included lengthy breaks at many LPG stations along the route, but still the relaxed aproach was prevalent.
Then, after yet another adjournment for gas and food, it finally dawned on one or two others that we might not make it for the start of the game. It was now mid afternoon and we were still some distance from our destination. The urgency that had been absent earlier reared its head and we sped along narrow, bumpy roads, overtaking - and 'undertaking' - on blind bends and when it seemed certain we'd be met head on by oncoming taffic. It had also started to rain.
6:00pm came and went, the Russian kept talking, the rain kept falling and we were miles from where we needed to be. At one point, I suggested that we stopped and found somewhere that was showing the match on TV. To be honest, I was scared. I really thought we were all going to die.
Meanwhile, one of our fellow passengers was in touch with someone in the stadium so we were getting regular updates. Then, Sisaket scored. This announcement was met by a loud cheer on the now manic bus. The feeling being that if it stayed that way, we'd at least get to watch extra-time. There was no need to rush now.
Unfortunately, Suree Sukha had other ideas (the heartless swine!) and slotted in an equaliser just before the break. Groans all round - apart from our Russian friend, who carried on chatting.
We eventually, arrived at the ground twenty minutes before full time. The score was still 1-1 and the small band of away supporters could be heard singing their hearts out, but instead of rushing to the stands to join them, we went to buy a beer. We felt we'd earned it.
Sadly, the vendors had sold out and the nearest shop was a five minute walk away. We did a quick calculation and reached the conclusion that the alcohol could wait and we might as well catch the closing stages of the cup tie.
Thankfully, the Sharks held on to claim a 2-1 aggregate win and we all celebrated wildly. For, even though we'd only been inside the stadium for a quarter of an hour, we felt we'd played our part in the victory.
The return to SriRacha passed without any further incident - even our new Russian friend was quiet - and we eventually arrived back home at 7:00am - a full twenty four hours - and 1,200kms - after we'd set off. We'd been on the road for twenty three of those hours, seen fifteen minutes of football and come as close to death as we've ever done, but it had all been worth it. Chonburi were through to the quarter finals of the League Cup.
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