I was thinking about the only time I‘ve been to Blackpool for a game - which saw me unexpectedly thrust into a right moral dilemma!

It was 2004 and I lived in Shrewsbury at the time, I made the trip up to Blackpool one sunny Saturday for a league game. Because I was driving up and back, it was all about the game - no drinkies.

So I arrived about 1.30pm, found a car park near Bloomfield Road, got some food and sat in the car listening to 5 Live footie build up prior to going into the stadium.

The angle I had parked at meant I was facing rows of terraced houses stretching away from me. I could see right down the bit in between the roofs of one lot backing on to the roofs of another lot.

Happily munching, listening and minding my own business when I spot a chap walking towards me along the roofs in between the two rows of houses.
He wasn’t covered up or anything so I could plainly see his face. But he was carrying a bag and walking fairly swiftly in a stooped sort of fashion. Certainly enough to attract my interest/suspicion.

He was walking on top of the roofs but towards me and he presently stopped at the back of one particular house to his left, my right. Bent down, crouched and started fiddling with the window. Presently the window swung open and, you guessed it, he dived inside with his bag.

Oh sh!t. I realised I was almost certainly witnessing a burglary. One’s moral compass instantly demanded I call the police – I could easily describe the suspect.

But that presented some obvious problems. Because I was side on to the houses, I had no idea what the streets they were on were called or what number house he had entered. Also I had travelled to Blackpool for one reason and one reason only – to see County. And it was by now gone 2pm. Call the police and I am probably stuck in a police station giving a statement for a bit – it didn’t have to be very long at all for me to miss a large part of the game.

So while wrestling with my sense of public duty and sympathy with whoever lived in the house in question, I saw the chap wriggle back out of the window, clutching his bag which was by now bulging with stuff. And he then hurried off back in the direction he had come from.

Just at that point, a group of clearly smashed County fans hove into view off to my right, all in full voice, and presumably on their way to the last pub before the game.

That decided me and I thought bollocks to moral compasses. I silently said to the burglar “have one on me mate”, finished my pasty and – wracked with guilt and misgivings - went to the game.

For the record, we drew 1-1 thanks to an Alby equaliser.

Can’t help but wonder – am I the only fan to witness a burglary while attending a County game??!! The things we do – and don’t do - for love!