MrsD, on the other hand, has never been to a "big" game; the most she's ever seen is probably about 15k at Leeds Road. She feels she's missing out on something.
Consequently, a couple of months back, I found myself betraying my national and family heritage and signing up with the FA as an England fan. My poor old dad would be spinning in his grave if he could stop laughing (and we hadn't cremated him).
Fifty bloody quid to watch a football game. Fifty bloody quid! Even for a small family, you're looking at a similar cost to a week on the Costas. The last Scotland game I went to (a home international against Wales sometime in the 80s) cost less than a fiver. Either I'm getting old or football has changed a lot. Actually, both are true, aren't they?
An early disappointment was the injury to the boy David. MrsD is a Beckham loyalist and was quite excited when we got the tickets because, if all had gone to plan, this should have been his 100th cap; best laid plans and all that.
Not knowing thatLondon at all, we booked a Travel Lodge out at Kenton which turned out to be a not-exactly salubrious suburb a couple of miles from Wembley; it served its purpose. The drive down from Huddersfield on Saturday morning was an easy 3-and-a-bit hours and, having parked up we hit a small problem. The public transport system is excellent, really good; but, unless you're at one of the big stations in the centre of the city, there's no way to find out what tickets you need.
Eventually, we got sorted and headed off into the city for a quick bit of tourism - Lizzy's house, Admiralty Arch sort of stuff before heading out to Wembley.
I was amazed at how quiet the trains out were - I was expecting sardines but it wasn't half bad. Wembley Park station was rammed, though and the view of Wembley Way was wonderful.
Lots of unofficial souvenir sellers doing a roaring trade in badges, flags and half-and-half scarves. This European thing annoys me - ManUre fans wouldn't buy a half-and-half ManUre-Shitty scarf, would they? So why are they becoming so common in European and international matches?
Our tickets were for the opposite side of the groud so we had a legitimate excuse to walk all the way around. It's a looooooong way.
Very quickly through the turnstiles, MrsD had the lid of her water bottle confiscated (these security rules just get weirder and weirder) then it was up the escalators to level 5. Escalators inside a football ground are just not right.
The internal concourses are a million miles and a million years removed from the old metal gangways inside the old national stadium. Loads of toilet facilities, overpriced burger bars (seriously - £8 - and they queue is enormous!). This is a lady and family friendly venue.
Up the steps and into the cauldron.
Wow. The first view of the playing area in any stadium is always a thrill but this was something special.
Our seats were just above the TV cameras so the view was "familiar". Strange thing - it doesn't actually feel as big as the old stadium - the absence of the running track makes this feel very much like a football ground.
Looking across at the much-maligned corporate seats, the influence of our own, dear Galpharm on the design became obvious. I don't know how interested you are in architecture, but here's an aside; the Wembley arch - commonly refered to as Foster's Arch after principal architect Norman Foster - wasn't actually his idea. It was his sidekick, Rod Sheard, who came up with the curve design for the stadium. That's the Rod Sheard who designed a wee ground in the nineties for Huddersfield Town! We were the template.
Something strange with the national anthem - it sounded like it always does on telly, but there was no-one singing anywhere around me. Surely they're not playing tapes?
Game on and Michael Owen should have scored in the first minute - I had it down as "one of those days" for him from that moment. Problem with watching games like this when you don't follow "the" Premiership is that you can't identify all of the players - I thought it was Ashley Cole who went down early on, but it turned out to be Micah Richards. Rooney and Ferdinand were about the only guys I could confidently identify without seeing their numbers.
Game was a bit poor, to be honest - England didn't really seem that interested with only Rooney chasing stuff down. He pwn3d (as the kids say) the Estonian number 4. Gareth Barry got man of the match but I suspect a bit of politics there.
Stevie Gerrard is still shite.
People started leaving at just after the hour mark. What's that all about? By the time the crowd was announced on 80 minutes I reckon at least a quarter and possibly as much as a third of the 88k had already left. People are strange.
Not that they missed much, mind, but the little Estonian contingent gave their team more of an ovation at full time than the England fans did theirs.
Anyone got any idea what's going on with the lights above the north stand? They look like some sort of Close Encounters signalling system - does the pattern mean anything?
Really excellent crowd control after the game meant we were back at our digs within the hour where we freshened up and headed out for a bit of night-time touristy stuff - Westminster and Trafalgar Square - trying to judge the rugby score by the sounds from the pubs. Surprisingly quiet - I actually thought they'd lost.
Sunday morning, a quick visit to Bluewater "just because" (it's not a patch on the Trafford Centre) then home.
Nice wee weekend trip but you're welcome to thatLondon. Every flat surface has takeaway wrappers and empty beer bottles, there are too many people and you're all mugs to tolerate the prices.
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