I saw a poor, lonely man wandering the A4 – then realised the sheer joy of where he was heading | Adrian Chiles

It’s 6am on an unpromising Saturday, and I’m heading west out of London on the stretch the place the A4 runs beneath the elevated M4 – two roads for the worth of 1 choking up the identical hall of air. It’s a bleak spot. Even at noon the solar doesn’t hassle this murk. Distressingly, extremely, there’s generally proof of human settlement within the grim void between carriageways underneath the flyover. Shelters cobbled collectively from scrap wooden, the sort of factor.It’s the final place anybody needs to be sleeping, clearly, and no place for a pedestrian, both, at any time of day. However right here he was, with daybreak barely damaged, an previous boy bearing a buying bag. Somewhat stooped and itemizing to at least one aspect, he was making gradual progress alongside the pavement. The poor, poor man.I puzzled the place all of it went incorrect for him. No sooner had I handed him, than I needed to cease for a crimson mild. Observing him in my rear-view mirror I seen, slow-moving as he was, a function to his gait. He didn’t have the look of somebody wandering with out anyplace higher to go. It was because the lights modified and I drove away that I clocked that he was sporting a crimson and white soccer shirt. Ah, this shone a a lot happier mild on the scene. We have been near the stadium of Brentford FC, who I recalled have been enjoying at Sunderland that day. And I knew with a point of certainty that this man was making his solution to the bottom to take his seat on a supporters’ membership coach to convey him there.There are those that, understanding this, might effectively have felt but extra sorry for him, and even questioned his sanity. A 600-mile (965km) spherical journey to look at a soccer match? Insanity. However for me, he’d gone from trying just like the loneliest man on this planet to somebody who I knew, at present a minimum of, can be something however lonely. Right away, I’d gone from feeling sorry for him to being relatively envious.Another person (me) will probably be satisfied – regardless of who the opposition is – that defeat is inevitableI’ve spent many a Saturday on coach journeys like this, to look at my crew, West Bromwich Albion. As a child, with my grandad, beside myself with pleasure, and plenty of instances since. Nowadays I’m simply as excited, albeit with decrease expectations of seeing us win. However the pleasure of it’s much less within the soccer match than the sharing of the journey. Every coach will carry supporters from nippers to ancients, lots of whom will probably be acquainted to at least one one other.Based mostly on my intensive expertise, I’d wager that these coaches, whichever membership’s supporters they’re ferrying, characteristic an analogous solid of characters. There will probably be those that’ve not a missed an away recreation since earlier than some fellow passengers have been born. At all times there will probably be somebody satisfied – regardless of who the opposition is – that their crew will win. Another person (me) will probably be satisfied – regardless of who the opposition is – that defeat is inevitable. Some passengers won’t ever cease speaking, others might by no means begin. Any individual may have baked desserts that will probably be handed round. Each weekend, it’s a fantastic consolation to me to consider all these travelling slices of life criss-crossing their means up and down the nation.It wasn’t till Saturday night that I checked how Brentford had received on at Sunderland. Regardless of taking the lead – pleasure – with 20 minutes left to play, Brentford swiftly conceded an equaliser earlier than Sunderland, horror of horrors, scored once more to win the match proper on the loss of life. Oof. Belief me, it’s a great distance again from Sunderland after dropping like that, wherever you’re going again to. Come to consider it, it’s a great distance again from anyplace after dropping like that.As I went to mattress close to midnight, I considered my man shuffling dwelling alongside that very same wretched highway late within the night, his stoop extra pronounced, his buying bag empty, however already trying ahead to subsequent time. Adrian Chiles is a Guardian columnist