The Feet of a Human Being

            With nothing else to do I gave Robin a call. We went to the football, Reading v Blackburn. It was a pretty dull game in the end, Reading just aren’t entertaining. I actually would’ve prepared to go watch an Ebbsfleet game. At least I own part of that club!

            As I sat amongst the tame and dry crowd I wondered about the fan mentality. It seems to me that half of the fun of these things is the shared experience. At a passionate club you can stand amongst wild fans who never sit down and never stop singing, that’s an experience in itself. On the other hand, if you go to Reading, since it's in the Premiership, or Chelsea, to take a better example - they're just as boring at the moment, the only social benefit you get is to brag about having gone to the match to anyone that’ll listen in the following week, as though it somehow demonstrates your worth. You certainly don’t turn up for the entertainment.

            It’s all a little accidental anyway. What determines your choice of team? Nearest club? Nearest premiership club? Parent’s club? The club of the England striker when you were 9? Whichever it is you’re then stuck with it, whether it’s a good choice or not. And why? Why can’t you switch allegiance? Because it’s frowned upon. It’s not the done thing. A big taboo. So there you sit, wearing the same colours as everyone around you, cheering a bunch of human beings for everything they do with their feet. It’s so illogical. It’s pure surrender to the social machine.

            In some ways there are parallels between one’s club and one’s girlfriend. They are at least a partially accidental choice and once the novelty fades you stick by them out of ill thought out loyalty.

            On the other hand, in football, you tend to get more respect for sticking by a low level team; loyalty trumps quality. Not so with girls…