Last Saturday I was on my way home from Sunderland, where I had been working at the Allied Mobility Wheelchair Rugby Nationals. I had a great two days. At one point I even got involved in an exhibition match. As a player of the sport, I love that you’re surrounded by other disabled people and that we get to challenge ourselves and other people’s perceptions of us.

I made the trip alone as I always do and on Saturday I expected a pretty uneventful train ride home. I hopped the train from Sunderland to Carlisle, then Carlisle to Glasgow Central. The second leg only took an hour and ten minutes but for reasons I’ll explain it felt a lot longer.

About twenty minutes into the journey I was sitting with my head down. I had earbuds in and was minding my own business. While I was sitting there a stranger walked past and yanked the hat off my head.

I quickly challenged him, asking, “What was that about?”

His response was, “I just wanted to do it. What are you going to do about it?”

“Aye big man, picking on the disabled guy,” I replied.

His response?

“Go back to sleep or I will put you to sleep.”

He then lumbered back to his seat.

Until that exchange I had been unaware of his presence but now I was hyper aware of it. I put my headphones, phone and everything else in my bag and stowed it under the seat. I was sitting there on edge, listening for the slightest sound and wondering if he was going to come back.

I sat where I was for five minutes or so before reaching the point where I refused to spend the next 40 minutes on edge. I got up and, holding on to the walls, made my way to the café car as I knew there would be someone there. Next to the café area was a small office with several screens.

I spoke to the train manager and explained what had happened. While I was talking two other passengers who were sitting nearby heard the conversation. The two men offered to sit with me, which I thought was nice.

The train manager reported the issue to the British Transport Police as we made our way back through. I chose to sit in my wheelchair and offered the two seats to the kind strangers.

Then the stranger came towards us, hand outstretched, telling me he wanted to apologise. I told him straight that I wasn’t interested.

He then started swearing at me and called me a “f*cking Fenian”, a sectarian slur often used against Irish Catholics and perhaps more commonly Celtic fans by a small contingent of fans who support the rival team Rangers. For the record, I’m a lapsed Catholic and not a fan of any Premiership team – I actually don’t care about either of them but there just happened to be a match between both teams the next day.

For those who aren’t aware, Glasgow has two Scottish Premiership teams: Rangers and Celtic. Rangers were formed in 1872 and gained support from local Protestant Scots and Protestant Irish, while Celtic was established by a Catholic priest, Brother Walfrid, in 1888. The Catholic and Protestant nature of their origins continues to spark a sectarian rivalry to this day.

This isn’t all fans of course, but both clubs have issues with fans who take this too far, where it extends beyond the pitch. Regardless of who you support, getting into a fight over a football team is frankly the stupidest excuse I can think of for wanting to harm another person.

I wear nothing that highlights Irish ancestry. I do have a green chair though, so I assume that is where the connection occurred in the stranger’s brain.

After the train manager told him to sit down he went back to his seat again.

I was talking to the two men who had joined me about nothing in particular when I saw the stranger on his way again, which I assumed was to the toilet. I gave the guys a heads up. He passed the table and tapped my right side wheel with his foot twice. The first time could possibly have been an accident. The second absolutely wasn’t. It was clear he wanted me to know he was there.

On his way back he brought his face level with one of the two men, who told him to get lost.

Again the stranger said, “I’m going to put you to sleep.”

The man sitting across from me simply replied, “Yeah, we’ve heard that one before mate. Just sit down.”

The stranger then went back to his seat.

When the train arrived in Glasgow I was grateful to see police officers waiting on the platform. He left via the door at the rear of the carriage.

I got off the train and saw the police speaking to the stranger. One of the officers also came to speak to me and a woman who had been sitting behind me and had witnessed the events. She kindly stayed behind to provide a statement to the police as well.

Once I’d given my account and received a whole lot of glances from the stranger I went to the assistance kiosk to sort out my onward journey. When I boarded my last train home I was facing away from the doors. I found myself looking over my shoulder until the doors closed.

Later that night the police called asking for a formal statement. At the start of that call they confirmed that the stranger had been arrested. I gave my statement and wrapped things up.

On Monday I had another call with an update advising that the person had been detained. It was confirmed he had been charged under hate crime legislation so I had to provide a statement as part of a hate crime assessment.

I was told a report had been made to the Procurator Fiscal, a public prosecutor in Scotland, and I would receive an update if things go to court.

Ultimately this was an instance of a total stranger seeing a disabled person, assuming that disabled person was weak and could be easily pushed around and that there would be no consequence.

You know what they say about assumptions…

As with everything that happens, this is an experience to draw upon, on negative experience in a sea of good ones, which certainly won’t deter me from taking the train.

Oh, and a huge thanks to the British Transport Police for dealing with this quickly and professionally, to the train staff, the witness and the two men who sat with me and made sure I wasn’t alone while this was going on.