In their entire history, Bath City have never reached the FA Trophy Semi Final. That is until now. The Semi Final of the competition is played across two legs, with both competing teams playing at home and away. The first leg was played yesterday. Bath City were at home and faced North Ferriby United, from the Conference North. Shamefully, NFU are one of those sides that I would never have heard of, if it weren’t for the fact we had been drawn together.

It was always going to be a tense affair. The prize for progressing beyond the Semi Final is a trip to Wembley Stadium, for a final against either Wrexham or Torquay United, who are contesting the other Semi Final.

The game ended 2-2. A win would of course have been better, but given the fact North Ferriby were 2-0 up at one point, the turnaround left all City fans with a feeling of optimism.

Like my fellow supporters, I was left feeling optimistic at the fulltime whistle. I was also left feeling sick. Really sick. The sickness was getting worse; forcing Claire and I to go straight home, instead of staying behind at the ground, to meet the players and management, as we usually do after home matches.

Later in the evening, I became intimate with a toilet bowl and a bucket, as I expelled the contents of my stomach and what felt like all my bodily organs from my mouth. I thought I was going to die. Was this the cost of Bath City progressing to the Semi Final? If they do reach Wembley, I dread to think what will happen to me. I’ll ensure I have a personal doctor on hand. Luckily, since this morning, there has been no more spewing, but I have placed myself on a diet of water, bread sticks and Revels.

Usually a sickness virus would mean a couple of days off work, as I am still infectious. I’m on annual leave all of next week, so will remain in quarantine and away from the office. I’m supposed to be in Bristol tomorrow night. I am due to attend the Colston Hall. It may surprise you, but I am not performing. I have tickets to watch Collabro – the winners of last year’s Britain’s Got Talent – however, if this sicky feeling doesn’t disperse and I am still on a diet of dried bread and small bits of chocolate, I don’t think I’ll be going anywhere. I’m sure when Collabro learn of of my illness, they will cancel and rearrange the concert just for me.