‘I can see myself doing every game until the end of the season, apart from Exeter City away.’
Myself. January 2026.
A game that was originally scheduled for the second weekend in January, the Grecians’ progression in the FA Cup meant that the fixture was shifted to a Tuesday night in March. On the face of it, that’s a nightmare journey.
And yet, by half-time of our excellent showing against Bradford City at the end of that month, I was seriously considering it.
The night before I made the even longer journey to Plymouth Argyle, albeit on a Saturday, the travel was all booked.
This is a once-in-a-lifetime season, and you feel like you can’t miss out on a second. But there is a dose of realism involved with a trip like this. Getting down there on the train wasn’t an issue. But how do I get back? While I drive, I don’t have the car with me at university in Sheffield. So, that left Exeter away in the hands of public transport, like virtually every other game. Although the big difference this time was doing such a substantial trip in midweek.
But while it was possible, even by my own ridiculous standards, this was another level of insanity. Firstly, a three and a half hour wait after the final whistle to get the 01:10 FlixBus to London Victoria. After arriving in the capital at 06:15, there was a 75-minute changeover to catch another coach to Meadowhall Interchange. That arrived at 11:25, and then the final leg was to hop on the train for a short journey back to Sheffield.
I have the greatest respect for those who do all 46 League One games a season, regardless of how the Imps are doing. I’ve got coaches back from Leyton Orient and Charlton Athletic, arriving back in Sheffield at gone 5 am. When I went to watch England at Euro 2024, I took an eight-hour coach across Germany in the early hours of Sunday morning. Countless other ‘home’ games following the national side have resulted in early hour arrivals back into Sheffield.
But this was quite the journey. Ultimately, it was worth it.
To Exeter Away
From Wigan down to Plymouth, as the song goes, just one League One ground remained unvisited. Exeter’s St James Park (without the apostrophe, as one poor Barcelona fan didn’t realise) was ground number 24 for me to tick off in the third tier. At 23 of them (including Sincil Bank, obviously), I had watched the Imps.
The only remaining one? Port Vale. Our last away game of the season. A promotion party…
Trying not to get carried away is one thing, but how can you not now?
These consistently high levels of performance are just absurd. Five straight wins. Five straight clean sheets. 28 points from our last 30 on offer. 19 games unbeaten. Top of League One by four points, after Cardiff City slipped up at Barnsley.
Gary has already written a report on the game, so there isn’t much to touch on in that respect. Just after the half-hour mark, Tom Hamer headed home an Adam Reach set-piece, and we had lift off. Despite an early second-half onslaught, looking to find a killer second, which never arrived. And while there were a few nervy moments infront of Exeter’s Big Bank, the Grecians couldn’t force home an equaliser, as we came away with another huge three points.
What struck me most at the final whistle, after all the shenanigans that ensued, was the passion shown by our players.
It was the same on Saturday in South Wales; pure, unrivalled joy. I felt a little emotional listening to Emily on the podcast on Sunday. Looking down at a full away end on Saturday, standing up for 90 minutes, was something I haven’t seen watching Lincoln for a good few years.
And long may that continue!
Up The Imps!
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