Hooray – the new football season starts today. The Premier League (PL), which continues to hoover up the vast majority of the cash that used to reach all levels of the game, is back, mainly for Sky subscribers and those wealthy enough to afford a ticket. But actually, it doesn’t start today. The English Football League (EFL), started last week, as did the Rumbelows, or is it Milk, no its some Thai high sugar so called energy drink Cup, from which Bristol already has no interest, even though it’s barely the middle of August. I couldn’t be less interested.
I don’t physically ‘support’ any team these days. Bristol Rovers will always be my club, but too much water, and indeed raw sewage, has passed under the bridge for me to dip my toes back in. I shall miss the pre match piss up with dear friends for sure but as far as I am concerned owner Wael al Qadi can stick his club where the sun doesn’t shine, particularly for as long as man baby and all round wrong ‘un Joey Barton occupies the manager’s office.
Last week’s opening fixtures passed me by. Some were on TV but I could not have been less interested. I know Rovers are playing mighty Stevenage today who at least have one player, Chris Lines, who I have actually seen play. As for the other games, which are being heavily promoted whenever I watch something else on Sky, I know soon-to-be-relegated Norwich City are ‘entertaining’ Liverpool, the team I like to watch, but don’t, in any meaningful way, support. I will watch the Reds 3-1 win at Carrow Road but the rest of the football programme I simply could not care less about, witness the fact that I do not know the details of any other fixture that’s taking place.
In the old days – about two years ago, that is – I watched plenty of football on Sky. I watched, with almost religious zealotry, every Barcelona game because they were so wonderful. Xavi, Iniesta and so many more were worth the Sky subscription alone, but it was really all about Lionel Messi. No Messi, no reason to watch, especially as la Liga would cost an additional subscription. The Dutch Eredivisie has been put behind an additional paywall, too, so I can’t even watch Feyenoord, the first team I ever saw live and literally, albeit occasionally, support. So, what is left for me?
I know that soon-to-be-relegated Brentford defeated soon-to-be-sacked Mikel Arteta and his Arsenal team mainly because people were taking the piss out of the latter on social media. Why would I have watched it? I have no interest in either club and struggle to enjoy a game as a so-called neutral. This has become an increasing issue with my football watching in recent years. Sky can show three, sometimes four, games in their Super Sunday and I will usually have no interest in three, sometimes four of them. So, instead, I’ll do something else.
This season, I’ll watch Bristol Manor Farm in the (breathes deeply) Southern League Division One South, I’ll play golf, I’ll go into town for record store trips and pubs for refreshments, I’ll go away for weekends, I’ll go to rail enthusiast weekends at preserved railways and I might even read more books. And you know what? I’m very happy with that. I wish I hadn’t lost much, if not most, of my emotional attachment with Bristol Rovers, but that’s what has happened and I am finally at peace with all that. All I miss on matchdays are friends and acquaintances – and, to be fair, that’s a massive miss – but I can’t go to football and pretend to enjoy it. Those days are gone forever, over a long time ago.
Rovers v Stevenage today but for me it’s Stoke Gifford CC v Blagdon and perhaps the odd can of Thatchers. I’ll be with my old friends, at least in spirit, and I wish them all good days ahead as Joey Barton leads the team to who knows where, who knows when, but, everyone knows, lots of controversy and embarrassment and, if the man is as good as his word (*coughs*) promotion.
