Cold turkey

For 9 months of the year I spend a lot of time with fellow addicts of my club. I say mine, it ain’t mine. I’m only a fan. (Short for fanatic. Read the Oxford dictionaries definition of fanatic!) Before I digress, a personal trait that has its roots in. . . . . . . .blah blah blah. An active (Goes home and away) supporter will have roughly 20 numbers in their phone that are useful to them in their support of whichever club fate has bestowed on them. They will know another 30 to 40 people that intimate details of, i.e. full name, name of spouse, kids, brothers, sisters, jobs, where they live, other interests, etc. There will be another 40 to 50 more people who they will know their names and they’ll be connected in some way with the first two groups. There’s then a group of about 80 that through recognition they’ll say hello to. Then there’s 200 to 300 others that an active will recognize but not talk to. Do the maths and you’re talking of around 500 people an active has a connection with for 9 months of the year. The other 3 months of the year they’ll speak to or text or spend time with around half a dozen of the 500 people. How is that not weird?

We claim our lives back in the summer. Football is never too far away. We’re always on the hunt for information on transfers, in and out. Might even head down to the club shop to buy a couple of bits of “Holiday” clothes. Then there’s the new shirt. Home or away, regardless of whether you’re one of the “Got to have it” brigade or not, you’re still curious. Friendlies, where and when. The equivalent of having a beef burger because there’s no steak available. Then there’s the fixtures. For me, the night before is as close as to how I felt on Christmas eve as a kid. They deliver just like Father Christmas did. Some brilliant fixtures and some crap ones. Stop looking puzzled. The brilliant ones are seaside clubs away on a Saturday at the start or at the very end of the season. Local derbies at Christmas or Easter. First or last game at home. The crap ones? Sky has a huge hand in this. After your furthest away trips being midweek games, Sky can decimate your plans. 12 o’clock Sunday kick offs on the last game of the season? I’d love to meet the person whose idea that was. * I’m not a violent person but. . . . . How many times have you found out after you’ve already got your advanced train tickets and or booked your hotel room have Sky then decided to televise the game, thus moving the time and or day? Never mind compensating clubs for the guaranteed smaller attendance, compensate the supporters who go to watch their clubs all over the country. Don’t you dare think “It’s your choice, nobody forces you”. Think of your favorite food and then think how you would feel if someone took it off the shelf, just as you were reaching for it, then tell you to come back tomorrow and then double the price. Bleat bleat bleat

WHINGE/PROTEST : One person’s whinge is another person’s protest.

*Chloroform, barbecue sauce, certain anatomy and a Rottweiler. Oh come on, I’m allowed an imagination!! The Rottweiler would be paid the going rate in accordance with their Union rights obviously.

 

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