Bradford City and Bradford Bulls games by car in future

Among the many other freedoms this gives me, arguably the thing I am most looking forward to is, hopefully, never having to rely on public transport when covering City and Bulls games ever again, having done so exclusively since I started working at the T&A in 2018.

We’ve had some doozies over the years, many of which you’ve been unfortunate enough to hear about before, and yes, if Bradford do end up going to Toulouse in the play-offs next month, I’ll be risking THAT journey all over again.

But otherwise, last Wednesday’s success on the roads marked something of an end of an era for me.

So, before I gladly consign these traumatic memories to the dustbin, let’s relive some of those ridiculous trips one last time…

MEADOW LANE MADNESS (NOVEMBER 2023)

Due into Nottingham for 10am ahead of a lunchtime kick-off, all seemed well as we rolled out of Leeds station on time for Graham Alexander’s first away game in charge of the Bantams.

But as we crawled into Sheffield, we stopped, then waited, then waited a bit longer.

Turned out some bothersome souls had trashed one of the carriages, meaning a long delay in South Yorkshire for a clean-up and arrests.

Plenty of time in hand still, but a cough and a splutter into Chesterfield signalled the end of the track for now, the train breaking down in sorry fashion.

Try transporting hundreds of City fans the rest of the way when the Saturday services are packed.

A flare was inexplicably let off on the platform at Chesterfield, before we all bundled on to a train to Derby, with no other option but to infiltrate first class, leading to me playing peacemaker between two elderly German tourists and some noisy Bantams teens.

Eventually herded on to a train from Derby to Nottingham, we turned up at midday, before being jostled all the way to Meadow Lane by a police escort.

There I was sent to the wrong part of the ground, before eventually taking my seat in the press box FORTY-FIVE seconds before kick-off.

Oh, and Notts County were 4-0 up by half-time…

Not sure this chaotic trip was worth it after all you know... (Image: Thomas Gadd.)

A WHITEHAVEN PICK ‘N’ MIX (2022-2024)

Call it madness, call it stupidity, call me too flippin’ nice, but somehow, I’ve ended up assigning myself Bulls’ last three league games at Whitehaven, an 11-hour round trip of endurance that is far more taxing than covering the game itself.

Arguably the original was the worst of all, with a manic bolt to make the connection at Carnforth, the defective train up to Whitehaven running over an hour behind schedule, a broken toilet meaning a pit stop to relieve ourselves at the most middle of nowhere station (Sellafield?) I’ve ever seen and frankly no idea how to get to the ground when I arrived in the town.

And on the way back, I had to get a taxi home from Leeds after midnight on what was a particularly busy Bank Holiday Sunday…

The trip nearly didn’t happen in 2023, with it put to me that coverage could be provided by either our sister paper the News & Star via Haven’s media officer.

I wasn’t having that, and found myself booking last-gasp tickets up there.

Of course it was all a mad rush, and of course my train home was cancelled, and of course there was a bizarre blazing row between two people in my carriage on the replacement home, but I’d covered the game in person for the T&A and that meant it was worth it (just).

This year I tried a different tack getting up there, which worked a dream, as it allowed me to take in the gorgeous Leeds-Settle-Carlisle line for the first time ever.

Mitch Souter made me happy with this try for Bulls at Whitehaven in June, but little did I know there was so much chaos to come that day. (Image: Tom Pearson.)

But this being the annual Whitehaven fiasco, the way back was its usual mess, as I mistimed my post-match report and quotes and had to sprint all the way from the ground to make the last train home with seconds to spare.

It was also England against Serbia at the Euros that night, and I missed the first half with no signal from Carlisle to Preston, then caught the second on the phone in the Lancashire rain then the platform for my delayed train to Leeds.

Of course, the train arrived just before full-time, and of course we went through a tunnel in the middle of second-half stoppage time…

And I missed the last service home by about 30 seconds, so another taxi to round off a long, long day.

AN ACCRINGTON ADVENTURE IN THE POST COVID-WORLD (JULY 2021)

The 2020-21 season was the worst, and let’s hope we never have to return to football without fans.

Among other things, it made a depressing trip to Scunthorpe in March 2021 somehow even more depressing.

That meant that while what happened a few months later was chaos, it was the kind that was welcome, mostly anyway.

City were off to face Stanley in a pre-season friendly and were looking so good under Derek Adams at that stage, Andy Cook scoring his first Maradona-esque goal for the club that day, the only thing I had to worry about that day was my ride home going smoothly.

Andy Cook scores a stunning goal on an entertaining trip to Accrington. (Image: Tom Pearson.)

I turned up at the station to be met by a platform of largely merry City fans, a genuinely heart-warming sight after the previous year, but also conscious that meant trying to do all the post-match content on a busy train of drunk people.

Sat on the floor typing with a mask on, it was not the most glamorous evening, and when I finally did get a seat later in the journey, I was faced with a barrage of unwelcome questions from one woman about why I was wearing a face covering.

Politely telling her it was my choice, and she could do whatever she wanted herself, the drama did not end there, as she clashed with four young lads opposite our table, leading to the guards getting involved, all the perfect environment for work of course.

There’s something about keeping a clean sheet and winning at Accrington for me clearly, as I was back there in March.

It was there I discovered “crudely-worded” Harry Lewis stickers in the train toilet heading down, a playful shouting match across platforms between the two sets of fans on the way home, before someone chucked ice all over me and my laptop as I typed up the post-match reaction.

All part of the public transport experience, I kept telling myself…

SUMMERTIME SADNESS AT YORK (AUGUST 2022)

On paper, one of the easiest away days of the year covering Bulls, in reality in 2022, not so much.

As a fan of the club and the sport, I find it inexplicable that there was no sort of broadcast deal in place for the Championship this season, but as a journalist, I’m just glad there’s no more Monday night rugby league.

In terms of the game, York away in 2022 is one of my favourite memories covering Bulls, as a heavily-depleted team, with loose forward Sam Hallas and unknown teen Myles Lawford in the halves, somehow won 20-16 at a side about to make the play-offs.

Sam Hallas celebrating a memorable win at York two seasons ago. (Image: Tom Pearson.)

The aftermath on a personal level, not so good.

Already having to navigate the madness of getting something into the following day’s paper within half an hour of the final whistle, I was relieved to be leaving the stadium and relaxing on a short trip home.

Life’s never that simple though, is it?

The taxi I ordered took an age to arrive, then the driver and I were on different pages when it came to where the pick-up point was.

It all meant me frantically in the back seat on the way to York station telling the driver exactly how long we had until my train left.

Every red light possible hampered our timings, naturally, and that last train I needed that would mean I could make my final connection back to Horsforth had just left the station.

Not a complete disaster though, as it would just mean waiting 20 or 25 minutes for the next train to Leeds, then getting a taxi home from there.

It also gave me chance to finish off what I needed for work, so I unzipped my rucksack to get my laptop out.

But it was wet and sticky (no laughing at the back), as was my phone and pretty much everything in there.

Turns out some suncream I’d left in there and forgotten about a week earlier had leaked. Everywhere.

Somehow nothing was damaged beyond repair, but the bag was ruined and the slippy liquid made those post-match quotes harder to write up than they needed to be.

I finally got home at 1am that night, then spent nearly an hour cleaning up the mess the suncream had made.

Getting up for work first thing the next morning was fun, let me tell you.