Pre-match nerves: Bolton (H) 21 August

Last night at about 8 I was chatting with Joel about what time and where I would pick him up for the game today.  As we were about to ring off he commented that he hoped I had his ticket as he couldn't find it.  Of course I have, was my answer.  After the call I looked for his ticket ... and my ticket .. and Jack's ticket ... and Jess's ticket - all of which I had , together, in postie's red rubber band, on my desk.

Except they weren't.  No matter how many times I looked on the desk, at the desk, under the desk, around the desk, in the drawers of the desk, they weren't there.  Nor were they in my wallet, credit card case, any pockets of any clothes I own, or any other drawers in the house.  My search was supervised and double checked by Anne, my wife, and after over half an hour of this I was in a major panic.

Calmly, Anne told me that what I had to do was go to the ticket office at Upton Park first thing this morning and sort things out.  So, complete reorganisation of Saturday morning plans.  No housework first thing, no cooking Lemon Meringue Pie after.  Before 9 I would be at Upton Park.  But I spent a miserably anxious evening worrying.

And had a poor night's sleep, interrupted by anxiety dreams, some tangential (a car crash happening in front of me), some direct ( the ticket office telling me they couldn't be replaced), with occasional reassurance (dreaming Anne shouted 'they're here' but, even in the dream, I knew it was a dream).

So I got to Upton Park at twenty to 9.  Four (count 'em) jobsworths on the gate told me I couldn't go into the car park on a match day, so I was eventually at the ticket office window at ten to 9.   Alone.

I was soon joined by a young lad who had got the 6.30 train from Bristol in order to show the evidence that he was under 16 and so could have a quid ticket.  What's a fifteen year-old from Bristol doing supporting West Ham?  His dad was from the East End and passed it on.  But dad wasn't so foolish as to be there ...

When the window opened a fretful two minutes after 9, the guy couldn't have been more helpful.  I explained my loss, he sympathised, I showed evidence of the tickets, he printed me four more.  Damn, I thought, I missed a chance to get Jessica's name changed from 'Jessice' which, no matter that every year she fills in the change form when renewing, they still roll forward.  But who gives a bugger?  I have new tickets and was home by half-nine in time for the housework after all.

Now, let's hope that by 5 o'clock this afternoon, it was worth it - for me and the kid from Bristol.