I was all set up to write a poignant article about my son and his entrance into the world of football until I sat down and came out with this melodramatically maudlin piece...
So a new season begins. The annual feeling of hope and
belief in the face of, soon to be, inevitable despair. I’ve been a football fan
for longer than most professionals plying their trade have been alive – by a
longer amount of time than I’d care to admit. And something’s changed. My team
will buy a few players that I’ve never heard of giving me a sense that maybe
this will be the year that we are promoted to the ‘promised land’. But then I wonder
do I even want to be part of the promised land with its shining Premier league
arm badges? The simple love of the game has gone amid the cynicism and greed
that seems to fester in the very core of English football. But this doesn’t
seem to be the case elsewhere.
The often celebrated Bundesliga seems to have their
priorities a little bit more in check. Fans still have a say and clubs seem to
respect their feelings. I’m sure it wouldn’t take long to find a disgruntled
Schalke fan bemoaning the latent greed in the German game but they appear to be
on more of a right track – and the league is successful. I find it even easier
to get excited about less vaunted leagues with fewer superstars. The MLS is a good
case in point. Coming from the home of capitalism it seems odd that Major
League Soccer seems to be a somewhat purer form of the game than what we have
here in England. Maybe it’s the relative newness of the league and clubs, but
the fans seem genuinely excited, not yet jaded, with this exciting and
wonderful game. Fan groups may look towards Europe and South America for how to
behave and conduct themselves but the spirit shown by fans at some of these
games outweighs the comparatively lower skill level shown on the pitch. And
that’s what seems to be the problem in this country. Fans have expectation
levels so far out of reality that they will never be happy.
The number of sides
that can win the Premier League can be counted on one hand – with fingers to
spare. Yet clubs up and down the country fall over themselves to pay exorbitant
transfer fees and wages to land players who may be to catapult them to
greatness. Most clubs don’t even seem to be embarrassed that it’s well known
that they don’t believe they can win the league. And when they manage to
qualify for Europe they refuse to take the competition seriously meaning that
the entire preceding season was a colossal waste of time.
I suppose what I’m saying is that I think I’ve fallen out of love a bit with
English football. I’m sure as the season goes on my fondness will be rekindled
but it’s definitely not what it was. And to reverse the old relationship cliché
– it’s not me…it’s you.
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