Here We Go Again

The fixtures are out, and I did what every sensible football supporter does. I scanned the list looking for the names that made me smile.

Three matches already circled in my head. Three reasons to charge Kya’s Kindle, find the headphones that were definitely left on the kitchen table and leave home so early that we arrive before some of the players.

Kya, it should be said, has not studied the fixture list. She has never asked me about formations and she has no strong opinions about the referee.

Her matchday priorities are much simpler.

• Car
• Stadium
• Familiar faces
• Sensory room
• Beanbag
• Cheering
• Chips

Mostly chips.

From worrying to looking forward

A few years ago, the thought of taking Kya to a live football match seemed ridiculous. A stadium contains nearly everything she can find difficult: crowds, queues, unfamiliar people, bright lights and noise coming from every direction.

Before our first visit, Sarah and I planned the day as though we were organising a small military operation. Headphones ready. Kindle charged. Snacks packed. Every possible route back to the car discussed before we had even left the house.

I wrote about that first experience in Saturday 3pm. The biggest change did not happen during the match, though. It happened afterwards.

We stopped wondering whether we could take Kya to football. We started looking forward to taking her.

The fixture list no longer feels like a list of things Kya might not manage. It feels like a list of places we might go together.

For families who spend their lives planning entrances, exits, toilets, food, noise and every possible escape route, that is an enormous change.

It starts with one email

Anyone looking at a football stadium and thinking, There is absolutely no chance my child could do that, should know that I once thought exactly the same thing.

The first step is not buying several tickets and hoping for the best. It is contacting the club and asking what support is available.

You do not need to know every answer before sending the email. Explain who your child is, what might be difficult and what would help them feel safe.

That email does not guarantee that every match will be available, or that a sensory room will suit every autistic child. What it does is turn a huge unknown into a conversation with somebody who understands why you are asking.

Autism is not one fixed list of needs. Kya can happily sit near thousands of people singing together and then become upset by a hand dryer or a café blender. Another child might need far more quiet. Neither experience is wrong.

The aim is not to persuade every autistic child to love football. It is to give each family enough information and support to find out whether football might work for them.

More away days with Martha and Chris

The new season also means more adventures with Martha and her dad, Chris.

Martha approaches football rather differently from Kya. Martha is more likely to follow the players, the score and what is happening on the pitch. Kya watches the crowd, listens to the singing and checks where the chips are coming from.

One girl follows the football. The other follows the catering signs. Both are doing matchday correctly.

Before an away trip, Chris and I contact the club. We explain what the girls might need and ask about seating, quiet areas, parking and how easy it will be to leave the stand if things become overwhelming.

Then we pack far too much, set off far too early and usually find somewhere for coffee along the way. We pretend the trips are entirely for the girls. The football, coffee and chance to visit somewhere new are unfortunate side effects.

I wrote more about those adventures in The Away Days. What I love most is that nobody expects Kya and Martha to enjoy a match in exactly the same way.

Martha can sing, cheer and follow every kick. Kya can watch the crowd, bounce when everyone celebrates, put on her headphones, look at her Kindle for ten minutes and then return to the match.

Neither experience is more valid than the other. They are two girls enjoying football on their own terms.

That is what inclusion looks like.

The story behind the story

Inspired by real matchdays

Lilly & Myles: The Match

Our football picture book follows Lilly, her assistance dog Myles and her dad as they attend a live match. When the sights, smells and noise become too much, a sensory room gives Lilly another way to enjoy the day.

It is not a story telling autistic children that they should attend football matches. It is a story showing that needing a quieter space does not mean somebody does not belong in the stadium.

Discover our books at Graffeg →

Perhaps a child will read the story before their first match and have a better idea of what to expect. Perhaps a parent will read this post and send one email to their local club.

Perhaps they will discover, as we did, that something they had ruled out completely might be possible with the right people and the right support.

That would mean far more to us than simply selling another book.

Here we go again

So yes, the fixtures are out. Wrexham. West Ham. Burnley. Home matches at Swansea. Away trips with Martha and Chris. Familiar places, new grounds and probably several portions of chips.

Headphones packed. Kindle charged. Snacks wildly overestimated.

The Championship is back.

More importantly, so are we.

Please note: Football fixtures, dates and kick-off times can change. Check with the club before travelling.