Collingwoodfc.com.au is giving supporters from around the world the chance to share their experiences following the mighty Pies. Cricket journalist Jarrod Kimber explains the trials and tribulations of following the black and white from far-flung places across the globe.

To share your story with us, email digitalmedia@collingwoodfc.com.au and tell your tale of following Collingwood from abroad.

It’s impossible to live in a Pies free world.

We have infiltrated every corner of the globe. Conspiracy theorists should spend more time watching what we do than worrying about a New World Order and CIA led United Nations. This is a Magpie world.

Most of you will be reading this in a Melbourne suburb, but I'm writing it on the train from Brussels to London. It means that right now under the English Channel is a Collingwood fan. We're everywhere.

While this global domination is pretty awesome, for the overseas Pies outliers, we have a unique set of circumstances to overcome to continue our fanaticism.

Forget the game times (before sparrows fart for an afternoon game, and late morning for a night game), it's all about not finding out the result. I tried briefly to just wait for the AFL results show to be broadcast on some random euro sports channel. But the presenters would often hint at who the winners were beforehand. Then they changed to Dwayne Russell and his winners and losers, which completely gave away the result.

They could only spoil it if I made it that far without hearing the result.

And we're not talking about taping the game because your parents have invited you to a family reunion in the only pub in Melbourne without the Pies on the screen before running home and watching the game you've taped late at night.

I tape the game while I work (unless I watch it while working from home) and it's the middle of the day for me. I have to use the Internet all day long, and like the rest of the world, the Pies dominate the Internet.

I no longer follow Harry O'Brien on Twitter because of an incident where he apologised for one of our rare losses and ruined my day.

Facebook is a no go area as well, too many friends back home bagging or bragging about the footy. And I've now got separate RSS feeds for my footy and non-footy life just to make sure nothing sneaks in that I don't want to see.

My family and friends know not to even insinuate the result without asking if I've seen the game first. My English wife (a Essex born new Pies fan who wants a black and white cat she can call Collingwood) also knows this.

About the only thing I would do during the day was work and use Twitter. Happy in the knowledge that I don't follow Harry anymore.

My system wasn't perfect, but it seemed to be working.

But it doesn't work like that. You can't escape Collingwood.

My day job is writing about cricket. Following cricketers on Twitter is an occupational hazard and I can't hide from them when the football is on if it clashes with the cricket.

So that is why Michael Beer, the left arm finger spinner and one Test wonder, joined Harry O'Brien on the list of people who had ruined my day by giving me the result of a game I was looking forward to watching "live".

Beer was the first, but during this season especially a few footy fans who play cricket have annoyed me, so I've changed my footy life.

If I'm out, or in Sri Lanka, India or somewhere else random, I use the Internet. A footy app on my phone while on a London bus, a stream in a press box in Galle or just opening a website when I get to a hotel in Kolkata.

I can always watch the footy later, but I'll do so knowing the result.  It sounds bad, but it's not really. I've learnt to love the new way. Waiting for a website to refresh, or even better, watching afl.com.au computer simulation is amazingly dramatic. It builds its own tension. I've had trains to into tunnels with the scores level and a few minutes to play. Been stuck on the tube for an hour with us 15 points up going into the last quarter. And lost Internet connection at so many important junctures.

There are games where we are up by three goals, and you watching it live can see we've got it in the bag, but I have no idea, I'm still sweating, waiting for something to update, hoping my stream holds up or just trying to get to a hotel to hook back into their Wi-Fi.

It works. It's just different.

I still watch as many matches as I can live; this year I've seen about seven or so. The biggest casualty of me watching the footy at home is my wife's cat. He's not a big one for noise and particularly doesn't like the word ball when screamed.

Last year's Grand Final loss was considerably harder on him than most.

Only once have I ventured out on Grand Final day to watch it in a pub. That was the drawn grand final of 2010. Sitting next to a Queenslander who was pretending to like footy and with a died-in-the-wool Pies fan behind me, I cheered as if I was there as I ate a full English breakfast with my beer. Coopers, I think.

The pub, and most others, couldn't get a license for the rematch, so my wife's cat had to put up with me again.

You know what they say about global domination, some of us have gotta make sacrifices.

Other Magpies Abroad