By Nick Horton BBC Wales News Online

And the Ninian Park queue goes on

It was long, slow and incredibly boring.

And no, I don't mean Cardiff City's play-off semi-final clincher against Bristol City two nights before.

To the neutrals, that goalless draw may have been as thrilling as a Welsh assembly election campaign. To we City fans, it was as buttock-clenchingly sweaty-palmed as they come.

But to learn the meaning of life-draining tedium, try spending seven hours in a queue waiting for tickets snaking its way around Cardiff's Ninian Park.

Achingly

The incentive was irresistible: the Division 2 play-off final at the Millennium Stadium just down the road on Sunday, 25 May. For most of the day I could almost reach out and touch the stadium - but it felt like I was never going to get there.

Like any fan of any club except possibly Real Madrid and - wash out my mouth - Manchester United, I've spent countless boring hours at the old home ground.

But in the past that's always been when the team is on the pitch. On this occasion, the only reason for being there so achingly long is still a mystery to me and the thousands of others who shared my misery.

When I arrived at Ninian at 0930 BST on Thursday, the queue was already three or four deep and probably 250 yards long.

It'll be worth it if this scene is repeated at the Millennium Stadium

Fair enough, I thought: big game, hugely passionate fans, should have got there an hour earlier and I'd be away by mid-morning.

I should have learned long ago that football fandom and optimism do not sit together easily.

Minor miracle

Inch by excruciating inch, we worked our way around the stadium for the next seven hours. We often didn't move at all for 20 minutes.

It was a minor miracle that the overwhelming majority stayed in such good humour for so long.

Forget all that nonsense you've read about football fans and their reputations (and a fair bit of that has been written about Cardiff City followers).

This was a classic example of fans willing to put up with a ridiculous amount of discomfort in pursuit of a dream.

Ayatollah

There were the occasional shouts from 20 yards behind in the queue (or about an hour) of "do the ayatollah". For the unititated, this is City fans' unique celebration involving lightly tapping the head with both hands.

There was also gallows humour. "Oh, I can't be bothered now, I'm off," grinned my neighbour as we were within a yard of the ticket office as the clock ticked past 1630.

The serious point is that Cardiff City has Premiership ambitions. Yet only when the club addresses problems like this, which treat faithful fans like cattle, will it be a truly professional, 21st century operation with a chance of mixing it with the big boys.

But I made it in the end. Two tickets for Sunday, 25 May, Millennium Stadium, Cardiff, in the wallet, costing a vast amount of money after wasting a vast amount of time.