Forever Blue With Ian Cheeseman

On Saturday afternoon I did something that had been routine for me for over forty years but I hadn't done since early March 2020; I attended a Manchester City first team game in a stadium.

It was the FA Cup fourth round tie between Cheltenham Town and City. 

I set off, alone in my car, as snow tumbled from the sky. I had a three hour drive ahead of me and wondered if it was going to be like this all the way. As is normally the case though, once I got away from Oldham and descended to a more civilised altitude the flakes of frozen water evaporated and it became a sunnier day, albeit a cold one. 

I’ve been doing some matchday coverage for SonyTV India via skype from home and now they'd got me a press pass for the game in Cheltenham. I can't deny that I felt quite excited. I would be back inside a stadium watching my beloved Blues. When matchday came though, there was an anxiety I couldn’t explain, something that used to be so normal felt very strange. 

I've not hidden my doubts about whether professional football should still be played during this horrendous pandemic. I knew that my day would be spent alone. I was used to mixing with journalists and friends on my road trips. 

I needed a toilet break at Hilton Park services having been driving on the near empty M6 for ninety minutes and to my surprise I found a fully open but near deserted service station. I could have had a burger, a coffee, bought a newspaper or some wood for the barbeque; but I drank tea from my flask and ate a few crisps, sat in my car instead. 

When I arrived in Cheltenham I saw the signs for the famous racecourse which had one of the last "super spreader” events back when life was normal. On Saturday I'll swear I saw tumbleweed blowing around in the stands. I headed next to the football ground and was directed to my car park space by someone wearing a mask. It might have been a lovely smiley person but in these frightening times I couldn't tell and didn't dare to chat or go too near to find out. 

As I approached the ground there were local fans, safely spaced out along the road, aiming to cheer on the team bus as it approached. They had no possibility of watching the biggest game in their club's history, from inside the stadium. That made me feel sad. Next I met two women from St.John's Ambulance. They told me they normally dispense vaccine during the week but on Saturday they were there to check my temperature. 

Safely inside the stadium, I was sat in an entire block on my own. I chatted to the people of India via skype before the game, at half time and when it had finished. 

The game, without spectators, felt weird. Despite what some people think, there was no artificial crowd noise played over the PA. The only noise, apart from the players shouting, came when some rogues in the housing estate, behind the stand I was in, suddenly let off firecrackers and fireworks during the game. 

City made hard work of their eventual 3-1 win against the League Two side and once I'd offered my opinion to the millions watching in India, I headed back to my car for the lonely drive home. I was so delighted to be back reporting on City, in a stadium. I felt wanted and valued, but I also understood how many other people wished they'd been inside the stadium and I wish they could have been there too. Once we're all back, safely, and these terrible times have passed I think we'll all appreciate the real experience even more than we did before. I certainly will.