I thought I would have got used to it by now.

Instead, attending football matches with no fans seems to get stranger every time.

That thought struck me when making my way around the old main stand at Everton last Saturday.

All grounds and stadia seem strange without the public but, for some reason, it hit home harder there at Goodison Park.

I am not sure what it is like to watch from the away section.

Quite cramped, I would imagine, with pillars getting in your way.

My experience of working on the other side of the ground, opposite the away stand and the main TV camera position, is certainly like that.

As a reporter, you generally get to a venue at about 1pm and leave some time between six and seven.

At Goodison, you usually emerge craving open spaces.

You feel like have spent five or six hours ducking your head or stepping out of someone’s way, saying “excuse me” or “sorry”.

In the press box, you squeeze yourself between tightly packed old wooden seats and work benches and hope the place next you has been left vacant.

Last season, trying to get down a particularly narrow gangway to reach my seat, I managed to brush a TV monitor hanging precariously to a wooden partition and somehow disconnect it.

That ended any hope of seeing replays of key incidents of the match which followed.

Then you hear the Z-Cars theme and settle in for what is almost a unique atmosphere in the Premier League.

Last Saturday was different.

Social distancing at Goodison Park? Yes, these are, indeed, strange times.

Of course it was meticulously organised and well carried out.

Everything about attending Premier League matches has been spot on at seven venues (plus Championship outfit Preston) I have visited since lockdown.

At Everton, that meant a seat out on its own, with four or five spare places to my right, no one to the left and about three empty rows in front and behind.

A cold wind howled and swirled around the brickwork and wooden seats with no massed throngs to get in its way.

The usual pillar was still there, hiding James Rodriguez from view when Leandro Trossard slid what I assumed to be a perfectly safe pass.

Again, as away fans, I’m not sure how many of you will have walked down Goodison Road, the narrow street lined on one side by terraced houses and the other by the back of the main stand in which I was sitting.

Before and after games, it is a Lowry painting come to life.

Step out of the press room and you are right there, on a narrow pavement, with human life teeming around and in front of you.

Atmospheric isn’t the word – especially in the early evening, illuminated by streetlights as the rain or mist comes down.

That street IS old school British football – complete with the twin pre and post-match meccas of a pub and chip shop.

But there’s no one there now. Last Saturday it was a eerily quiet.

Deserted apart from, after the game, a small group of Everton fans waiting for their table-topping heroes to emerge from the car park.

Then the empty No.19 bus into town, the almost empty Euston-bound train which would normally be hot, noisy, loud and smell of assorted beers.

Newcastle was the same, of course. In terms of the town itself, it was worse.

It was nice to have a hospitality box all to myself at St James’ Park with a fantastic view of the pitch rather than one of our usual seats low down behind the team benches and open to the rain.

But the novelty of that quickly wore off.

That should have been a hugely upbeat pre-match on Tyneside.

The ground, of course, stands above the heart of the town like a castle.

And that town buzzes on matchday, both before and after the action – but not this time.

Imagine it. Newcastle back home after a 2-0 win at West Ham which sent hopes soaring. Home fans right up for it.

Then imagine the reaction of 50,000 to going 2-0 down in seven minutes.

When Callum Wilson headed a good chance over, the noise would have risen and the onslaught might have been on as Newcastle attacked the Gallowgate.

Not this time. The chance came and went and there was no storm to weather.

Or even Deepdale in the Carabao Cup. What atmosphere would proud Preston fans have generated with a home tie against Manchester United the prize for the winners?

A vastly experienced former Football League player and manager I spoke to this week is convinced the lack of fans is responsible for the freak matches we have seen.

He is among those who reckon the empty stands affect concentration levels.

“Brian, the game has almost died,” he messaged me before explaining his point during a phone call.

And those are just the aesthetics as to why it feels like football is missing fans more and more as the weeks go by.

The finances are hard and fast proof. Albion are losing about £1 million in revenue every time they play at home without spectators in the Premier League.

But even then, how much does that tell you?

Matchday revenue can be neatly quantified.

But now much non-matchday revenue is ultimately driven by the experience of going to a game in the first place?

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Businesses who serve football stadia are struggling.

Many whose jobs depend on football will be struggling or worried.

A lot of fans have supported clubs where they can but some of that may be impossible when furlough ends.

Those lockout games on TV? They are a lifeline, of course they are.

But how hard are they to watch? How awkward do those well-meaning crowd effects sound at times?

And then there is the place most of you reading this will really be missing – the Amex.

I’ll make an honest observation so please read it in full rather than taking it the wrong way.

Of the stadia I have visited for matches behind closed doors, the Amex is the one where I probably been least struck by the lack of people.

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That’s not for any bad reason. I think it is just that, unlike the other venues I have mentioned, I’ve watched football at the Amex quite a few times with empty stands or relatively small crowds.

Under-23s, under-18s, Sussex Senior Cup finals, open training sessions, even women’s games with 5,000 or so present.

I’ve been to the stadium on non-matchdays for a variety of reasons, including countless press conferences, and seen it with very little human life present.

But, of course, matchdays feel different. A bit of a non-event in many ways. Flat.

Again, the organisation is excellent.

But the Albion fans who cannot go are the people you really feel for.

The moment their team emerged to the strains of Sussex By The Sea for the Chelsea friendly was so special, almost emotional.

So was the send-off at the end of the game. We’ll meet again, probably here but don’t know when.

There is a sound logic that Albion’s home fans are most supportive in games against the bigger clubs.

So unfortunate then that home games behind closed doors have included Manchester United (three times), Arsenal, Liverpool, Manchester City and Chelsea.

Arsenal, and that late drama, gave us a false hope.

We maybe thought games with no fans could be enjoyable. That Albion would cope without their support.

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But even then, as the home players celebrated in Will Buckley time in Will Buckley’s corner, you could not help but look across the empty rows of seats and think: If only.

There are little things too. You might remember Tariq Lamptey has still not thrilled Albion's fans present in the stadium, other than a few at a friendly.

Or you notice the posters still up in the West Stand advertising Mothers Day lunches at the stadium on March 22.

When Albion turned in their best away performance since promotion, there should have been faithful followers up there in the Gods at St James’ Park soaking it all up.

I’d even like to think some Geordies would have stayed to clap the visitors off. We will never know.

Yes, there are massive health factors in all this. I realise that. That's one reason this piece is being typed out on a dining room table at home rather than in an office, why pretty much all of us have changed our lives and respected guidelines - and will continue to do so. 

But the campaign to bring supporters back is gathering pace.

Paul Barber has been as patient and undertanding as anyone having spoken directly to the government and heard their conflicting concerns.

What he said yesterday and the fact he said it spoke volumes.

Hope is not high at the moment but, let’s face it, we have seen a few changes of direction while all this has been going in.

Maybe there will be another twist soon to give football some good news.

The fact is fans are being missed more with every passing week.

Because of the money.

But not only because of the money.