“Pass it!”, “Run with it!”, “Tackle!”. Just three examples of the world-class advice that was being dished out by a die-hard ‘supporter’ who was sat behind me on Saturday afternoon. It was Doncaster Rovers at home to Stevenage – neither of which I support, I should point out – in the F.A. Cup 3rd round. After about five minutes I realised what most supporters dread… yep, you guessed it, I was sat in the vicinity of a talker. Let me describe your average talker.
- Anything between 5’5” and 5’8” in height (this is where the inferiority complex began no doubt – although it could also have stemmed from the exact time he decided to become a Doncaster Rovers fan, I guess we’ll never know)
- Balding
- Faded jeans with standard mustard stain accompanying scuffed hem and elastic waistband.
- Shiny-ish black shoes that normal people would wear with a suit
- A distinct smell of tobacco, grease and football stadium urinals – an odour that only seems to be accomplished by talkers
- Oh, and the belief that every supporter within a ten-row radius is interested in what they’ve got to say.
This particular ‘supporter’ ticked all the boxes. I mean, I get it, we all want our team to win and we’re all entitled to our opinion but these people are ridiculous. I have been to hundreds and hundreds of games and these talkers are everywhere! They’re like a plague. And like the plague, they’re growing. I don’t understand how they don’t understand that what they’re doing is counter-productive. It’s harmful, it’s negative, it’s poisonous. And it’s fucking annoying.
I had no choice. I had to sit there for 90 minutes and listen to the pillock blame his manager for a Stevenage goal where the defender slipped. He slipped! “Dickov! You idiot! You’re crap! You’re f***ing useless Dickov!”. If I was a talker I might have added – Yeah, Dickov! You’re not spending enough time in training on the consequences of slips and trips! I may be old fashioned but I thought being a ‘supporter’ meant you ‘support’, not hinder. And he wasn’t the only one. A mis-placed pass was met with a chorus of boos. 19 year-old full-back (with five games to his name) Wakefield was heckled for laying a pass back to his central defender instead of hoofing a clearance up-field. And the most embarrassing thing of all? The 11,332 empty seats in a 15,231 capacity stadium – nothing short of a disgrace. Please don’t mis-understand me I am not having a go at Doncaster Rovers. This happens everywhere. It’s the big brother generation who think if they don’t like someone they can pick up a phone and vote them out. Or better still, shout abusive language, yeah, that’ll do the trick. Stevenage fans get the thumbs up from me, though. A healthy amount travelled up and made plenty of noise in their designated corner of the Keepmoat. As it happens Stevenage went on to be drawn against Everton in the next round which on the performance of their players and supporters they richly deserve.
So, anyway. I got home, ears ringing, ate pizza, went to sleep, woke up on Sunday ready for another day of F.A. Cup action.
Man U. Oh, Man U, Man U, Man U… Man U. Ha! (That just slipped out, sorry I’m trying my best to be impartial here).
90 minutes on the clock, is it a bird, is it a plane, is it Rufus Brevett, no it’s Bony!!!!!!
And then Old Trafford emptied faster than I can say “Fergie time”. These Man U fans are a disgrace to the word ‘supporter’. If you can’t stand and watch your team lose one game all the way up to the final whistle after you’ve just stood and watched your team win title after title after title for the past 20 years you do not deserve to be called a ‘supporter’ in my book. If you can’t watch your team lose how are you going to enjoy them when they win? You can’t win all the time. I have never in my life walked out of a game early and I never will. Whether we win 5-0 or lose 5-0 I am there at the end applauding my players for their effort. Why? Because I am a supporter. I support. And guess what? I don’t support Man U.
Game of Two Halves Football 