There are plenty of us living just a tad too far to get to Keepmoat on a regular basis and for some it's a practical impossibility; I'm thinking particularly of chaps like Mark Button , the only member of our Californian Branch.

Being an exile is a painful experience. We've created a sub-culture of virtual fans who congregate before each game to sit alongside crystal sets and endure the ebb and flow of each game.

Many of us have our own rituals and a straw poll suggests that most routines have distinct similarities. All are a tad worrying !

Most exiles spend their Saturday mornings diligently working with the instructions of their nearests and dearests but always with one eye on the clock; no job can be contemplated that could stretch beyond 2.30pm, the notional bewitching time.

Come 2.30pm we all have a common ritual; get the Rovers shirt on and then retire to the PC with all family members acutely aware that until 5pm you're not to be disturbed. I mean "NOT DISTURBABLE" at any cost.

Now, the pre-flight check, PC on, speakers working and Yahoo fired up, tea and biscuits to hand. Door closed.

Log onto RoversWorld and prey that the dulcet tones of Brian "Tip Tappin" Bradley will hit your ears like fine music - "welcome to Griffin Park; I'm afraid we're on a phone line today so the reception will be poor"; you bet Brain, its sounds like your under the sea - better than nowt mind !!

As game time nears most of the chaps log onto the Yahoo Chatroom aka The Lucky Pint - all the normal suspect will be there - Bob, Mark, Steve, Mort, Peebles, and others; the on-line banter starts and all proposals for the final score circulate and mostly we're all wrong. Particularly of late. Record attendance was 22 for the first leg of the JPT North Final.

And there we sit, listening to Bradders and hanging onto every word; all the "aarrghhs" from him being translated by us and leading to inevitable calls of "what happening"; "what was that all about". It's torture and yet we return week after week like lambs to the slaughter.

Peebles' gets the virtual beers at half time and Bob puts the kettle on at regular intervals; we're an odd bunch but it works.

Tomorrow night is Forest away and the Virtual Crowd should be healthy and full of optimism.

The Mexican Wave is a bizarre ritual as is the give me a "R" chant.

RTID