Alright, let’s talk about this whole “up the chels” thing. It’s funny, you hear it around, maybe see it online, but actually doing something about it, well, that’s a different story. I remember wanting to properly experience it, not just talk about it.
Making the Trip Happen
So, I got this idea stuck in my head: I needed to go see a match. Properly. At the stadium. Felt like one of those things you just gotta do once, right? First job was figuring out the tickets. That took some doing, let me tell you. Sat there clicking refresh on the website more times than I can count. Felt like winning the lottery when I finally snagged one.
Next up, travel. Had to sort out the train, book it in advance to get a decent price. Planned the timings, where I needed to be, all that jazz. It’s not just rocking up, there’s a whole process you gotta go through. Packed a small bag the night before, just the essentials. Couldn’t sleep much, bit too excited, you know?
Day finally came. Got myself down to the station nice and early. The train ride itself was interesting. Started quiet, but the closer we got, the more blue shirts appeared. You get that feeling, like you’re all heading to the same place for the same reason. Bit of a buzz.
Being There
Getting off the train and walking towards the ground… wow. The noise just builds and builds. You hear people chanting already, smell the food stalls. It’s a bit chaotic, but in a good way. Found my gate, showed my ticket, went through the turnstile. Then the stairs. So. Many. Stairs. Felt like I was climbing a mountain.
- Finally got to the top landing.
- Walked through the passage out into the stands.
- And boom, there it was.
The pitch looked amazing, almost unreal. The noise just hits you like a wave. Everyone’s standing, singing, shouting. You can’t help but get sucked in. Doesn’t matter if you’re shy or quiet usually, you just join in. We scored, place went absolutely mental. Pretty sure I lost my voice yelling along with everyone else. Proper goosebumps moment, that.
Match finished, filed out with the crowd. Ears ringing slightly, legs tired from standing. Grabbed something quick to eat before heading back for the train. The journey home was knackering but felt good. Like I’d actually done it, you know? Wasn’t just about the 90 minutes of football, it was the whole thing – the planning, the journey, the atmosphere. Just being a part of it all. Yeah, good day that was. Properly good.
