IIt was bound to end this way: a long and arduous journey that had begun on a collapsing roof in 1982 ended on a grey, drizzly December afternoon with my team losing 3-0 in a new stadium built in collaboration with an international commercial law firm. A spectacular away win thanks to a last-minute winner would have been somehow very poetic. That’s what was supposed to happen when I finally finished 92.
Like that Everton game, most of the away games were with the Nottingham Forest fans in attendance; Others as neutral. I have seen and learned much from this ridiculous but thoroughly satisfying venture and many miles of travel. One thing that used to happen was that someone would show loyalty by carefully tucking a scarf in the window, so it would be waving outside all the way. It has been replaced by the executive car sticker or personalized number plate and our society is the worse for it.
These days visiting a ground within walking distance of the city center is a rare pleasure – it feels like a big day out. More importantly, it encourages a sense of place: you know where you are, you get a sense of being somewhere, which you don’t get from walking through an industrial estate on the ring road or a science park. (Apologies – sort of – to Colchester, Oxford, Shrewsbury. Luton, Peterborough and Sheffield United, to name just a few.)
We all know about Griffin Park and the famous pub around its corner. But not all of them were open for business until the last stretch of land. Nearby pubs are closing at an alarming rate. Meanwhile, football clubs have become increasingly concerned about viewership numbers and are asking themselves how they can extract more money from their fans. Solution? Ask them to buy beer underground. Thus, the modern stadium builds one at a time with fancy new stands. Some of which are quite good, especially when there is no pub within walking distance.
You can still find multiple terraces to stand behind a goal. And higher up the leagues, safe standing is now common practice, which begs the question: How difficult was it to implement in the first place? The transition from seemingly safe status to the strange and imaginary to ubiquity was brief. Football fans can have nice things without going broke.
How wonderful it is to go to new grounds and replay in your mind those famous goals that you have seen there on TV: that goalmouth is where Jimmy Glass scored that goal to keep Carlisle United’s league status. There should be virtual blue plaques for this kind of thing. And on that note, it’s a joy to lose track of the game while Googling Percy Ronson (Fleetwood) or Eric Whalley (Accrington) to find out why they are so revered that they have a stand or bar named after them.
Modern ultra. For so long, we have been envious of German supporters with their flag-waving, constant chanting and sense of identity. But instead of taking the best bits and adapting it to their club, some fans have simply copied it. Of course, anything that adds a bit of atmosphere to the game is welcome. Yet the practice of donning some kind of uniform, essentially all black clothing, to claim one’s own fans seems odd. There’s an air of superiority about it, as if to say we’re the perfect fans and you can’t be in our club or be an ultra like us unless you wear all black and jump up and down a lot. And if you want to join in to see if you have the right vibe you may even have to ask us in the pub.
It seems as if most clubs have their own baby squad – Barrow are clearly visible, especially when their team scores a goal at the Holker Street End and they move towards the away fans on their right. By all means, wave the flag, sing songs, do all that, but are any kind of uniforms really necessary?
There are big flags everywhere. Clubs also have official large flag wavers. It looks great when a huge flag flutters from one end of one stand to the other while flags are being flown in other stands. But like safe situations, why were we told for so long that they weren’t welcome? They were resented and discouraged and anyone who dared to wave a flag to show their support was attacked by eager managers.
In fact, it is still difficult to bring such a flag into a game without prior permission. It seems the clubs want this kind of spectacle, but also want to keep it to themselves, make it official in some way, as if supporters can’t really be trusted to wave the flags correctly, so it would be better if we took responsibility for waving the flags ourselves. Regardless, more big flags keep coming; Just let the fans solve it themselves.
There is a treasure trove in the bargain bins in club shops at the end of the season. You can pick up all sorts of unusual souvenirs, and this is the perfect time to put one in a shirt bag as the club tries to draw everyone’s attention to the new kit. Congratulations to Walsall for selling its stuff for just a tenner, and added bonus for emblazoning the Poundland in front of it.
Speaking of sponsors, one way to reduce a tedious game is to pay attention to advertising hoardings: one can guess what Betterwave in Accrington is or does, and consider how reliable De Catchsides Roofing is in the Bromley area. BritCon’s huge billboard in Scunthorpe poses a series of questions relating to contemporary political and social issues. And scan any stadium deeply enough – especially in the North-West – and you’ll never be far from an advertisement for Rainham Steel.
Organized fireworks displays are definitely an event in the lower leagues. Who knew they were so hyped? Who knew they were a thing? Such events are more heavily advertised than Elton John’s shows at provincial venues. And like ultra culture, flag waving and safe standing, murals around the ground have also finally joined the football mainstream, making the traditional walk around the new ground a fascinating one. You can also actively search for something you’ve seen online. Things like this create a sense of identity in the area, and not in a threatening way, but in a more warm and inviting “come and see who our heroes are here” way. And you’re always standing there agreeing, nodding and thinking: “Yeah, he was some player, wasn’t he?”
And yet there has been stability throughout those 43 years. In late autumn you enter a field in hazy sunlight and exit into a dark, chilly darkness. It makes you feel like you accomplished something with your Saturday. “Do something nice this weekend?” The universal work colleague question will come on Monday. Yes. Yes, I definitely did.
this is an article david marples For when saturday comes
