(29 October 2020) I have not been thinking much recently as dank autumn merges with Covid tedium. Then, on Saturday, while taking the dog for a trudge round the rec, I bumped into someone I had not seen for quite a while. He asked me how I was. I happened to glance at my watch and noticed the time. It was exactly when I would have left the pub to go to the match that afternoon. A gust of sadness (or a chill wind) washed over me and I realised how much I miss football.
I know they are playing in empty stadia but I don’t subscribe to sports channels (as I would only want to watch my team) and watching in pubs is never totally satisfactory at the best of times. At the moment to leave the pub having seen my team lose while amongst a crowd of crowing opposing fans is never nice and along with that, I might well have become infected.
Having had a season ticket for over thirty years it is a gap in my life, Or rather two gaps.
First, there is still that childish expectation of waking up on a matchday, anticipating joy and pleasure though tinged with a shadow in the corner that hints that it could all go wrong (a lesson for hope in general), It is that taint of disaster that distinguishes football from other activities,
If I am going to a concert in the evening, I still tingle with anticipation but I know the outcome will, at least, be “good” and hopefully “excellent”- not the case with football.
Whereas at the match the world becomes a simpler place; no ambiguities, grey areas, “listen to the alternative view”. Everything that happens is “good” or “bad” and clearly so; it is quite refreshing.
I also care unreservedly, without fear and with an intensity not often experienced in the rest of life. I can also shout with joy and anguish (in a non-discriminatory or offensive fashion of course) and let my emotions loose.
After the match finishes an emotional bubble remains. After a good or significant victory, a bubble of happiness filters my perception of the world- the fellow fans in the pub seem like demi-gods and for a day or so everything is positively enhanced. I feel warmer towards my fellow humans and tolerate the irritating ones more (I would still not kiss Donald Trump though).
But for every Yang there is a Yin. The inept performance, the biased referee, the dreadful error, the broken shoelace all create a dark and gloomy bubble that lurks in my psyche despite my best attempts to push it away. The bitter tastes bitter, the weather colder, people uglier.
The bubbles do not last and I check my diary for my next fix.
However, as they say at JML, there is more..
The second reason I miss football is the associated chumship.
Over the many years a large informal community of individuals, mainly with monosyllabic names (Bev, Dev, Kev, Mev, Trev), (some names changed to protect individuals) have clustered around the team (and real ale). As well experiencing the joys and pain of supporting the team we have lightly supported each other through births, deaths and diseases (amongst other things).
A day at football is greatly enhanced through walking into a bar ( rubbing your head)) then seeing friendly faces and having a chat.
After the game there is always a requirement for beer, to celebrate or commiserate, in likeminded company.
It is this social aspect that is lost. However, I do not claim to have unique feelings on this.
In the 2018/2019 season the top four tiers, just for league matches, the total attendance was 41.800 million. Ignoring corporates and tourists that is thirty-five million people having pleasurable chumship (or possibly thirty million excluding solipsists).
Add on a nine million watching top level club rugby union, another couple of million for Rugby league, games in Scotland and NI and all those other sports that I assume have regular spectators,we are talking about a lot of people all of whom have an absence of social contact in their lives.
Perhaps we should all shoot grouse.
Here’s a smiling kitten.
If you want to use the photo it would also be good to check with the artist beforehand in case it is subject to copyright. Best wishes. Aaren Reggis Sela
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