I seem to have disappeared off the North Stand Chat website, which is a relief because I was having to divert from work every hour or so to see what new insult had been posted.

Even for those of us who like to have at least 50 Albion moments a week, this was a bit much. The nice thing about following the Albion is that most of the moments are free.

Sure, getting into Withdean isn't cheap, but generally the whole Albion experience comes gratis.

Take, for example, the 6.06 Farringdon to Brighton. This is not one of the world's great trains. It is not even one of Thameslink's great trains.

Work-deadened commuters sit silently with their Standards, thinning out as Purley passes and Surrey turns into Sussex. The mood lifts after Haywards Heath, but not by much.

Except, that is, when the Albion are at home. Then the season tickets suddenly give way to travel vouchers, the charcoal suits to scraps of blue and white, the silent people to garrulous ones, talking of unexpected things.

On Wednesday I listened to a huge debate about QPR and Brighton. One man was saying he had been to 90 league grounds but never QPR as we have never played them.

Someone said Tim Carder should be consulted about this and, via some extraordinary link, the conversation moved on to Teddy Maybank.

A gaggle of Barnet fans shuffle down the aisle. A bundle? No, a debate; about respective ground problems and the likely outcome of the evening's game.

The commuters sit as this parallel universe unfolds around them, listening but pretending not to, dying to escape into the heaven that is Burgess Hill and the chance to tell Shirley how they only just escaped a life-threatening situation.

A few days before, similar happen-ings on the 14-something Connex from Brighton to Preston Park. A small French family sits alarmed, surrounded by les 'ooligans anglais and trying to work out what they are saying - in order, presumably to get early warning of the violence that Le Monde had assured them would happen if they stood near English football fans for long enough.

They fail because the ooligans in question are Ull supporters outlining the current situation on the Umber and we can't understand what they are saying either.

In fact, not being able to understand people was the theme of my Albion week. I couldn't understand the metronomic Tom Carr of Falmer droning away on Harty's radio show, phoning in to nonsensically demand equal billing with guest Dick Knight, which is the same as the "Lady in the blue cardigan in the back row, no the one with the hat" insisting on having as much of Questiontime as Robin Cook.

And I can't really understand the controversy about Chesterfield's wrongdoings. Surely it's simple. If the boardroom sins didn't affect the results then they shouldn't be docked points. If they did, then a calculation has to be made.

If so, would it be a hollow victory? Think not. After years of scrabbling away for points like looking for pennies under the sofa cushions, I honestly don't mind if Chesterfield implode in a cloud of smoke.

For all those lost hours on remote motorways, for the conversations with colleagues that I haven't been listening to, for the expensive phone calls and damaged Saturdays; for all those things it would be nice to have something.

Four years ago we watched the people of Hereford parading a bull around the ground. To see us running round with a piece of silverware would be a perfect way to finish this particular journey.