What’s the only thing better than going to the football on Saturday? That’s right, doing it three times. From Loftus Road, to Craven Cottage and finally to Selhurst Park, all in one afternoon.
When the fixture list tossed up three mouthwatering matches staggered across those grounds, I couldn’t resist the opportunity to try and attend three games in one day.
Planning my assault on London’s footballing venues had to be precise, but flexible. The vagaries of public transport schedules at the weekend are beyond most Nasa scientists, but I knew minimising mileage would be important. With that in mind, I had to shun the Premier League’s early kick-off, Chelsea’s visit to West Ham, for fear that the trip to Fulham would take over an hour no matter how I did it, short of hiring a helicopter.
Instead, I picked another all-capital clash between Queen’s Park Rangers and Millwall that would allow me a far shorter jaunt to Craven Cottage, as well as a chance to add the madness of the Championship to my otherwise all-Premier League extravaganza.
London is the obvious choice for this experiment, because the big Manchester and Liverpool sides never play at home on the same day. Perhaps only Birmingham and its surrounds could offer at least two top-flight fixtures in one afternoon, although doing it without a car as I did in London would be hard work.
Here’s how I got on…
11am: My first posting of the day is a London derby – QPR vs Millwall – pushed to 12.30pm for TV and also for policing purposes. As I walk up from Shepherd’s Bush station, there are at least four varieties of copper: transport, community support, mounted, riot. They’re all very friendly though, and the riot folk haven’t even got their helmets on yet. Given the unseasonably warm temperatures of 23 degrees, that seems like a sensible choice. More likely to get hit by an ice cream than a bottle at this point.
The last few hundred yards of the journey to the ground provided a snapshot of west London: Uxbridge Road is a melting pot of cultures, where Nandos is sandwiched between a Middle Eastern dessert shop and pubs called things like the White Horse. As I get closer to Loftus Road, a particular uniform starts to recur: slicked-back hair, polo shirts buttoned up to the top and box-fresh white trainers. They’re not wearing colours, but these are surely Millwall fans.
12.25pm: I’m glad of the shade, and less glad of Loftus Road’s idiosyncrasies, which mean there are two joists partially obstructing the view of the pitch. That said, this is a proper football ground, with the 1,744 away fans packed into the upper section behind the goal, giving the feeling of the crowd being right on top of the players. There is even a fence with barbed wire on top of it segregating fans, a relic of a much darker era. QPR are desperate to build a new ground, either on this plot or more likely a development elsewhere in the borough, but for now this is one of London’s most historic stadiums. Millwall kick off in an unfamiliar dark green against the iconic blue-and-white hoops of QPR.
12.50pm: I’m very conscious of limited meal opportunities in this gruelling schedule, so I’ve got a packet of Rowntree Randoms and some peanuts. That comes after a breakfast of champions: a Gregg’s sausage roll and a sugar-free Red Bull. Meanwhile, it’s still 0-0 at Loftus Road, but only thanks to a fine block from George Saville. “No one likes us, we don’t care” rings out from the away fans, who are convincingly out-singing their opposite numbers at present.
1.10pm: Two goals in six minutes and it’s 1-1. Millwall take the lead through a really nice move too. There isn’t a six-footer among this Lions forward line so they have to keep the ball on the floor, and that’s how they slice open QPR. An incisive pass by Ryan Leonard, a ball across by Macaulay Langstaff, a brilliant dummy by George Honeyman and Duncan Watmore, previously one of the only Premier League footballers to graduate with a first-class honours degree, applies the finish. But the lead lasts only six minutes as QPR break away and Michael Frey, on the cover of the match programme today, bags his fourth of the season. He celebrates by running down the touchline with his finger on his forehead: I’m told he thinks he is a unicorn…
1.20pm: Four minutes of first-half stoppage time is bad news for me: it means I am already going to be tight on kick-off at Fulham vs Newcastle, but my anxiety is alleviated by a lovely gourmet sausage roll and a less lovely cup of instant coffee.
1.40pm: As in the first half, it is the visitors making most of the running. Romain Esse, only 19 years old and already at Millwall a decade, catches the eye on the right wing with his free running style and willingness to be direct. He is an England Under-20 international, and you wonder if he will go higher.
1.55pm: Millwall fans are enraged, and rightly so, because that ball has bounced up and hit Paul Smyth’s outstretched arm in the box. Hard to see how the referee hasn’t given that, but there is no VAR here.
2.05pm: Raphael Varane’s half-brother is on for QPR, but the game is petering out and I’m already thinking about Fulham vs Newcastle. Can I get there for kick-off? It may depend on stoppage time here.
2.20pm: It’s five minutes. I’m going to have about 35 minutes to make kick-off at Craven Cottage. No one else is leaving early, because QPR are hanging on here, but I watch the last seconds on a screen in the concourse to aid a speedy getaway to a reserved Lime bike.
This game has the feeling of two clubs that have to work hard in a crowded catchment area, but that have taken very different approaches. QPR’s team features seven different players with experience of either the Dutch or Belgian top divisions, a perceived recruitment niche, and no academy graduates. Millwall’s is hardly replete with homegrown talent but there is still an identity: Esse is Millwall born and bred, captain Jake Cooper has been at the club for nearly 10 years, Jake Clarke-Salter and Japhet Tanganga both grew up at nearby London Premier League outfits. On the pitch, they buck the stereotypes, playing attractive passing football their fans can be proud of.
2.25pm: Despite a few hairy moments, the points are shared. Millwall will feel aggrieved at a missed penalty decision and their own failure to finish the game off when they had their chances. I am dust as soon as the final whistle blows.
QPR 1-1 Millwall
- Player of the match: Neil Harris, Millwall manager – because there was no standout performance but they are playing football “the right way”
- Entertainment: 7/10
- Atmosphere: 5/10
- Half-time offering: 8/10
- In a sentence: A London derby in name only
2.55pm: Made it! A battery-assisted bike ride through west London and along the river past the historic Hammersmith Studios gets me to Craven Cottage in time to have my eardrums perforated by the pre-match music that must challenge the aural ranges of even the most experienced gig-goers.
3.04pm: Well, good thing I was on time. Newcastle have a goal disallowed, correctly, for offside and less than a minute later, Raul Jimenez scores at the other end. Emile Smith Rowe has hit the bar now too. Newcastle are all at sea.
3.22pm: And it’s 2-0, no less than Fulham deserve. Neat move, but Nick Pope should have stopped Smith Rowe’s weak poked effort.
3.40pm: It’s quite a different experience at Fulham. Like QPR, the Johnny Haynes Stand has a view obstructed by a series of iron joists, but the similarities end there. It may only be a mile or two down the road but ticket prices are not far off double and the crowd reflect it. “Score, you stupid boy!” one schoolmasterly regular cries behind me as Jimenez fails to turn a tricky half-volley into a 3-0 lead.
On a personal level, the sun has reached an awkward angle and like a poorly prepared goalkeeper, I haven’t got a cap.
4pm: A superb half-time set-up at Fulham: a meat pie, real coffee and some pick’n’mix to take with me back to my wooden seat. It’s so good I almost miss Harvey Barnes pulling one back for Newcastle less than a minute into the second half, much to the chagrin of those around me. (At least one of them actually used the word chagrin.) Eddie Howe is grinning from ear to ear, because he made two changes at half-time and one of them, the introduction of Jacob Murphy, has produced the assist for the goal.
4.25pm: For all my jibes about how achingly middle class much of Craven Cottage is – and it is – it is a decent atmosphere. Newcastle often out-shout home sides but the Fulham faithful are as engaged as any supporter group.
4.45pm: Reiss Nelson kills off the Newcastle comeback with a late strike to make it 3-1, but Fulham had largely weathered the storm before that. I have 24 minutes to make it to Clapham Junction train station for a rare Selhurst-bound train, otherwise I might as well watch Crystal Palace vs Manchester United on TV.
Fulham 3-1 Newcastle
- Player of the match: Alex Iwobi was a constant thorn in the side of Newcastle’s defence, on the right, the left and through the middle
- Entertainment: 6/10
- Atmosphere: 7/10
- Half-time offering: 8/10
- In a sentence: An excellent performance on and off the pitch from Fulham
5.09pm: Dripping with sweat and having perhaps floored several slow-walkers, I have made my train and will only miss the first 10 minutes at Selhurst Park. This actually does make me quite sad because I love The Dave Clark Five, whose hit “Glad All Over” is the enthusiastically sung pre-match anthem here.
5.29pm: I’ve just hit my 10,000 steps for the day. But it won’t be enough to get me up the hill in time for the beginning of Saturday Night Football.
5.55pm: I took my seat (and apologised to my neighbours for the smell) some 15 minutes ago, and I’ve not seen Palace string two passes together yet. Manchester United are certainly in the ascendancy, having forced three good saves from former Red Devil Dean Henderson and then hit the bar twice. You’d hardly know it at the Holmesdale End though, where the drumbeat is relentless.
6.17pm: Palace may have just won the day in the half-time snack competition, with a small but perfectly formed steak pie that was just the right combination of crispy and moist.
6.50pm: Good day to be a goalkeeper at Selhurst Park. Henderson dominated the first half, and now Andre Onana has silenced Palace fans already celebrating a goal by Ismaila Sarr who looked sure to score.
7.05pm: Eberechi Eze could, nay should, have won this game for Palace by now. He’s missed a great chance in either half. That’s probably why he is still at Selhurst Park and hasn’t yet got the big-money move those who previously occupied the role of Palace talisman have.
7.20pm: It’s over. A 0-0, but an entertaining one, to be fair. Marcus Rashford’s second-half introduction had little impact but will surely grab the headlines as his feud (or is it?) with Erik ten Hag continues.
Crystal Palace 0-0 Man Utd
- Player of the match: Dean Henderson was the less spectacular of the two goalkeepers but the busier
- Entertainment: 7/10
- Atmosphere: 9/10
- Half-time offering: 9/10
- In a sentence: One of the best Premier League experiences around, and a surprisingly entertaining goalless draw
7.55pm: Ten Hag is furious at Jamie Redknapp’s assessment that “something must have happened” for the Dutch boss to drop in-form Rashford to the bench. “Crazy” is what he calls it, but Rashford’s dejected departure from the pitch after the final whistle suggested there is something more there.
8.05pm: Palace manager Oliver Glasner is barely audible at times due to the clamours of fans outside who are begging United players to give them a souvenir as they get back on the bus back to the North-west. He seems reasonably happy with a point, despite a couple of gilt-edged chances to take all three.
His departure is also my cue to leave, with a good chance of making it home in time for Match of the Day. Because that’s what I need in my life: yet more football.
10pm: I’m home, and am immediately confronted by the question: was it worth it?
Yes and no. The tension of waiting for the fourth official to indicate added time, knowing that a six or seven on the board could jeopardise my whole afternoon. The travel too meant that those precious minutes before kick-off, pregnant with possibility and excitement, were instead spent rushing between ticket offices and gantries and hurriedly trying to work out how the two teams would line up.
But the opportunity to experience three quite different games of football was an exhilarating challenge, albeit not one I could recommend. Two in one day, perhaps the early and the late, with a less frantic journey in between, would have been quite enough.
Although I would only have got two pies out of it.
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