On the day Wednesday got to the play-off final and we were busy being shit in L1, Matt, myself and Tyler/Bash/Woolford decided to get the fuck out of Sheffield and go on the lash as we were convinced the bastards would do it. We didn't fancy being in the city when it happened.
We hopped on a train to York and supped the day away, shooting the shit, enjoying the sunshine and swerving any boozers showing the football. I checked the score on my phone and saw that Wednesday had conceded that Diame goal.
We ducked into the a nearby bar to stream the last ten minutes of the game on my shitty phone. We let out a massive cheer when full time was blown (much to the displeasure of the clientele of the upmarket gaff we were in) and caught the first train back to Sheffield, delighted that we wouldn't have to endure them lot in the Premier League. He really did hate the bastards.
It's my most cherished memory of Matt, and there are god knows how many others we shared on a matchday. He was a larger than life character who was as opinionated in real life as he was on forums. We often had massively opposing views but were always able to discuss things with manners and civility, and we had a mutual respect because of that.
Me and a few friends were fortunate enough to be able to go round to his house to watch the Man City game in the infamous Corona Club (and what a job he did with it). Of course the result wasn't what we wanted, but when that equaliser went in, everything else melted away. No illness, no sadness, just a bunch of Blades who've spent years at the back of the Kop together celebrating a goal, just as we'd done hundreds of times before. Celebrating with our friend. We all gave him a huge hug as we left, knowing it'd probably be the last time we'd get to do so. It was.
When I got the news this morning, I had a strong urge to write something through the tears. I don't know why. It's a feeling I've not had for a very long time. I wanted to write about his voice which, for anyone who knew him personally or met him, was absolutely unique and unmistakably his. Whether he was on a rant in the boozer or asking whether the Kop bar was open after 30 minutes, you could hear it was Matt from a mile away.
So this is for you Ainsley, imperfect though it may be. It was an honour to call you a friend.
