Working in the media often means weekends become part of your working life and as time went by, I was watching less live matches. I still followed every result, still nabbed all the assignments at the Bank when there was a new signing or a press conference, but it wasn’t quite the same as being a fan, despite being closer to the action than most. Not being able to celebrate when your team scores is one of the hardest things to do.

As the end of 1999 approached, I realised it my turn on the rota to cover New Year’s Eve. This meant going to Cathedral Square at 11:30pm and documenting people ringing in the new Millennium. I quit the Echo and went to America for six months. A bit extreme, but I saw the 2000 in on South Beach in Miami instead.

This was the beginning of me ceasing to follow Lincoln on a regular basis. Games and then seasons drifted by without me paying much attention. When I was back in England I lived in Kent, Bournemouth then a two-year trip around the world was followed by Bristol and then London. I did get sent to cover Yeovil vs Lincoln in 2005, but it was to document Yeovil winning the League. I made little effort to follow the results, let alone find out if the Imps were playing nearby.

The Keith years were not mine. I loved Keith as a player, so I feel guilty about this. I did get up in the middle of night whilst in Australia to listen to us get spanked by Bournemouth on the radio in the playoff final. Two years later I did go to Cardiff to watch us not have a shot against Scunthorpe, but in truth this was only because I was living in Bristol, so the 40-minute train ride seemed worth it.

I watched from afar as we slipped out of the league, and then nearly further down the Football League tree. I was a bit annoyed, but it just meant I had to click on a different tab on BBC Sport if I wanted to find out the Lincoln result.

I moved back to Lincoln in 2010. I decided to change career and get a degree from Bishop Grosseteste University and become a teacher (those who can etc….). I hadn’t lived in Lincoln since I was in my 20’s, and now I had the perfect excuse to go to home matches – students got in for fiver. Except I only went twice. I took my wife to 0-0 bore draw with Stockport – “The ball is in the air a lot,” was her match summary. I think the managers in this period did the best with what they had and their level of expertise, but it wasn’t enough to convince me to pay a fiver to watch it.

Then the Cowleys arrived. You could sense something was different about them, but I’d seen so many potential next amazing managers (Allan Clarke, Peter Jackson, Steve Wicks, John Reames!) that I knew Lincoln were experts in false dawns. The results improved and so did the crowds, which included me (plastic I hear you shout). I took my son to his first match and he was hooked. A 3-1 win with a penalty and multiple sending offs will do that for a 3-year-old.

Unfortunately for me, I only got to taste the beginning of the journey of the Lincoln Loco as a job in Spain beckoned and the call was too great. Luckily for me, many of the National League games were televised and due to some VPN trickery, I was able to follow the amazing journey. I did also fly back for the Arsenal game, as I felt that I was due a day out at a big club as previously, The Dell and Goodison had been my only taste of a top ground. I didn’t care that we got thrashed. I shed a tear as we walked out and clapped till my hands were raw at the end as the team came over. I thought that was going to be one of my best days as an Imp.

Then Wembley. We were flying back from a visit to Singapore and rearranged to go via London to take in the match. My entire family were there. My dad, my uncle (both fans from the 70’s who hadn’t been to a match in years), mum (last game vs Wycombe in the Conference), auntie (first game), wife (second game), son (second game), nephew (first game). I guess you could classify us all as plastics, but at the final whistle I couldn’t care less as I let out a scream I’ve only ever heard before when I did a bungee jump. My son still has the flag in his room and talks about the game all the time. He tells all his friends at school he is Lincoln fan and proudly wears his shirt on non-uniform days in amongst a sea of Barcelona, Real Madrid, Chelsea, Liverpool and Man Utd shirts. I do feel he has a rather rose-tinted view of what following Lincoln is like, but hopefully it will be a while before he finds out anything different.

This season has been something else. I’ve been able to watch most of it on iFollow and if I’m not near a screen then the club’s Twitter feed is my lifeline. Of course, it’s not like being at the matches, but something strange has also happened. I’ve started watching other football matches as well. I’ve realised that when I stopped caring about Lincoln, I also stopped really caring about football in general, and from a boy who won a shoot quiz about football trivia where I could name all the grounds, managers and sponsors of the 92 league teams this is quite something. So I would like to say I owe Danny and Nicky a huge thank you for making me enjoy football again and also thank them for lighting the fire of interest in my son, who is currently curled up in bed with his Wembley scarf wrapped around one bedpost and his flag stuck to the ceiling. He has also requested a set of goalkeeping kit for his birthday, so he can be like the Lincoln goalies.

I would also like to thank the Stacey West Blog. Reading match reports from you and reading your travel diaries and all the other amazing content reminds me of the away days on the Lincoln City Supporters coach. It’s like listening to real fan over a pint bemoaning referee decision and your pessimism is all too real for anyone who’s supported Lincoln for a sustained period. I’m one of those of those people who can’t wait for your honest match report after reading the sanitised Press Association version on the BBC website.

I’ve no idea if anyone will read this or why I really wrote it, but it was something that I feel I needed to do. Hopefully it gives another side to the plastic story and also to show what it’s like to move away from your home time and how this can affect the way and how you support your boyhood team. UTI

Thanks to Matt for his superb and honest story, from the dressing room of John Beck to South beach Miami…. great stuff.

If you’re as eloquent with the written word, or have a story to tell, get in touch. we love a good fan story on the Stacey West, especially when there’s a little thank you at the end!

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