Here I am in deepest darkest Brazil. Surely I'm not the only Conference fan in exile? Whether you are stranded in one of the colonies, or living away from your teams's base in the UK and can't get off your lazy bottom to drive a couple of hours up the motorway, I would love to here from you. This page is open for exiles' contributions. You can write about your experiences, where you are living now, or about the heartache and frustrations of being away from your beloved club. I guarantee publication, a sympathetic ear and a very firm shoulder to cry on.

Our first contribution comes from the Isle of Man, where Keith Fitton shares his emotions and frustration at being torn away from his beloved Morecambe.

Keith, in his days as a Morecambe Bay shrimper before emmigrating to the Isle of Man

The Isle of Man; 70,000 alcoholics clinging to a rock in the middle of the Irish Sea. Famous for the TT bike races, cats with no tails, kippers, and tax evasion. And my home.

It's hard being an exile, you miss so many things that you took for granted when you lived in the UK. Especially the football. Oh you miss your family and friends, you might miss some shops and your favourite restaurant, sure. But, you REALLY miss your football team.

In some ways, I don't count, as a 'true' exile. The Isle of Man is a foreign country, with its own parliament, currency and laws, but it is close enough to the UK that I can see the Lake District on a clear day. We are actually closer to Scotland than England and we can also see Wales and Ireland, but the Lake District surrounds Morecambe Bay and on Saturday, Morecambe is where the heart is (unless we are away!!)

The shrimp - Cockroache of the sea which feeds on human sewage - Keith's passion - hey hoe, it takes all sorts!!

Being this close is both a blessing and a curse. I can get over to see the lads reasonably frequently, money and work allowing, but it takes a couple of days to travel due to the ferry timetable. Thus a 'home game' involves setting off at 7am Friday and not getting back until 6pm Sunday. The flip side is that on a Saturday I can feel soooo close, yet so far away.

The result of this, is slipping deeper into a 'sad life'. On a Saturday in the season, everything stops and 'sad man' takes over. I settle down with Radio Lancashire on. The coverage is piss poor compared to some other BBC local stations but we get a mention before the match, usually get goal flashes and a round up at the end. Better than nothing. Usually.

The Teletext goes on page 309 and stays there. And that life line of all addicted exiles, the Internet, is wound up and ready to go. I save my Conference Prediction competition until then so that I will have something to do all afternoon.

I cheer when we score, or curse when we concede. And wear my shirt!

Keith and Elaine (in the sidecar) on their way to work in typical Manx fashion

By this point, sad man is in full flow. A while back, Elaine, my wife, taking the piss, brought me pie, peas and a Bovril at half time. Big mistake, I loved it and that now is another part of 'sad man' in exile. She is long suffering, but now accepts that if she wants me to go to Do-It-All or anywhere like, then Saturday is not the time to do it. Even work don't rota me on Saturdays. The last time I worked on a match day was Bank Holiday Monday, when Morecambe played Nuneaton. I was dreadful to work with and did nothing from 3pm except watch teletext and complain if anyone interrupted me!! (I was the nurse in charge which is worrying I'll admit!).

The absolute worst scenario is when I could have gone to a game but for some reason got stuck. A couple of years ago, I was all set for going to a match in mid winter, all psyched up and ready to go. Unfortunately, the weather decided otherwise and a force 9 gale meant the ferry stayed where it was. I was stuck and the game went ahead without me. I paced like a caged lion and hated every minute of that day. I think I sulked and wouldn't even go out for a beer to console myself that night.

If you haven't experienced 'being in exile' you won't have any understanding of the emotions you go through. The isolation can be total. Often you have no one in common to understand you. They try, they smile and pretend they understand and in time you convert enough locals to the cause that they can have a half knowledgeable chat about how 'we' are doing in the league and who scored what. Even Elaine is being dragged around to becoming a reluctant fan, but they don't understand, not really.

Keith today, on duty at Douglas General

Click here to take part in Keith's excellent prediction competition.

Morecambe F.C. Official Site

The Boy from Ipanema wishes Morecambe the best of luck in the FA Cup against Ipswich Town

Send your stories to The Boy from Ipanema (with a photo of you in your team's shirt if possible).