In the midst of these strangest of times football finds itself in a conflicted state.
There can be little doubt that while sport matters it is not significant against the backdrop of a deadly pandemic. But still many of us feel the loss of the ritual of filling stadia each week to follow our football team.
Football’s absence, however, does have some refreshing consequences. It’s brought about a drastic reduction in the hyperbole of the mundane and the trivial, less incessant chatter about tedious superstars and respite from the saturation of a sport that never stops being pumped into us every single day of the week, every month of the year.
Still there is no doubt football is enchanting. I particularly adore what sits around the game; the community that football fosters and the simple pleasures of meeting in the train stations, the pubs and the concourses before a match. Simple things that have been taken from us.
And I miss raising my arms aloft and singing at the maximum volume my lungs will allow, the heightened roar as our team surge forward and losing myself in the bedlam of a goal scored. These are the moments that lead me to devote so much time, energy and money to it.
Outside of this, however, there are parts of football I have begun to despise.
For a year or two now I have become more extreme in my views that football is treating me like an idiot. The spread of Covid-19 has served to strengthen that thought.
Chapter 1 – The Rising Tide
The sheer love of my football club combined with the camaraderie that comes with it have so far trumped any doubts about the side to football that I loathe by a long way, but recent weeks have undoubtedly left me in more of a quandary.
The notion that football supporters are customers is not a new phenomenon. I’d suggest that most of us realise this and sign up on the basis that the good outweighs the bad in this regard. Where I do possess severe reservations is in how match going supporters are increasingly being taken for granted; our loyalty is abused and our commitment is disregarded.
I don’t think it’s fair to aim this solely at individual clubs; the issues rise above them largely albeit I would question whether they could do more to fight the corner of their supporters. Nor do I think these matters exist as much further down the leagues where football has not been blighted by vast sums of money being gathered and spent.
It was actually the weeks most recent to the eventual shut down of English professional football that I felt most ill at ease. As Forest tentatively solidified a play-off position and even threatened to trouble the automatic placings, our schedule was shredded by TV broadcasters eager to treat their audiences to every blow of the Championship promotion race. Such was the upheaval that in February five of our seven fixtures were selected for TV and it continued into March and would have in April too.
In addition to this away ticket prices, which appear to have risen significantly this season in The Championship, were making supporters dig deep. Our two away games on sale prior to the suspension were Sheffield Wednesday (£33) and Derby (£37). Notably, having been so eager to strip us of our money initially there is no word yet on offering us it back to us.
Some will say such examples are a consequence of a promotion race and should be expected. Some will argue that nobody is forced to attend games rescheduled for TV or pay for expensive tickets.
I would contest that this is not only ignorant to the mind-set of a football fan but part of a wider problem of acceptance which blights the game. Football supporters who follow their team everywhere and anywhere are deeply invested and often hell bent on supporting their side irrespective of circumstances. It is far from simple to switch off from it especially when it’s tantamount to cutting your nose off to spite your face.
To demonstrate this, if I don’t turn up at Derby away in protest at the scandalous ticket price I know there are hundreds who will take my place. My absence is irrelevant and I have missed out on being part of something I love dearly. Our devotion is often a gun to our heads.
Such devotion fans should be supported and treated better. Fans too should be given a better platform to raise these concerns. Much of what exists now is little better than lip service.
And still these matters have continued to mount up. Every season the ask seems to get bigger and new initiatives are devised to make it more difficult for your average supporter.
There was the ill-judged line from the former EFL chief Shaun Harvey about making the furthest away trips midweek because these games attract less fans. This was followed by the red button showing all midweek games. We also now endure greater privileges being afforded to non-domestic supporters which is increasingly impacting on the time of games; our cup game at Chelsea being moved to the Sunday to cater for ‘overseas broadcasters’ is one recent example. And let’s not pretend that domestic games being played in the Far East or the States has gone away for good – give it time and that proposal will be back.
Those that go to games; those that do so at such expense and hassle are penalised to cater for a TV audience.
I have no malice towards those who choose to consume their football from their living room or who wish to follow from abroad (credit to those supporters and networks in far flung places who wake up at stupid times to watch their team play in GMT) but I am wondering more and more why I and many others are being disrupted to such an extent to service this requirement.
I do, of course, know the answer. It’s because collective TV subscriptions are worth more than gate receipts at the higher levels and it’s these higher levels of football that generate the money and thus matter considerably more. And this is the problem. Loyalty gets you nowhere in football.
Those of us trudging up and down the country, handing over considerable sums of money for season cards and match tickets are worthless to those responsible for the English game. The Premier League, the FA and EFL do not make their riches from this unwavering but small part of the ‘football family’ and we therefore matter little to them.
It is somewhat ironic that supporters inside stadiums are, however, a vital part of experience that these bodies package up and sell to Sky Sports, BT and broadcasters globally. It isn’t much without us. Yes, there is still a game able to be played but it’s a vastly reduced spectacle.
Football without fans is nothing, remember.
What frustrates me is that this has happened before our very eyes and we have let it. It continues to get worse and still it goes unchallenged. Probably because a fair chunk of the same match going fans still subscribe to these broadcasters and happily indulge in Super Sunday and other such gimmicky obscenities.
We will scream blue murder about our own team’s game being moved but will relish the prospect of tuning in for Arsenal v. Newcastle on a Monday night. And we do so without a single thought for the Geordies being expected to travel the length of the country on a work day to suit our often casual interest.
Football in this country thrives on the partisan atmospheres but as supporters we often fail to see past it and stand together on issues such as this. We think of our own individual grievances on TV scheduling and ticket prices but rarely do we think about how all football fans are impacted by these things. Individually we are a mardy Twitter feed for a few hours, a sad spray painted bedsheet or a lone chant. Hopeless.
Together, if we could stomach it, we would have more joy being heard. And we could have a chance at righting some wrongs.
Admittedly there has been more and more anger directed at Sky Sports during games and their response is to muffle the sound so their audience doesn’t hear thousands of frustrated supporters venting anger. It’s a neat metaphor for English football fans this don’t you think? – Ignored.
A question remains on whether we should go further. In Germany and elsewhere in Europe supporters have risen up against injustices which include Monday night games. They, together as a united supporter network, rallied and fought this. In extreme examples they boycotted games. And they won.
Similarly they have battled back against the notion of clubs like RB Leipzig who have procured their sponsors a place in the Bundesliga. What helps German clubs is they mostly operate on the 51-49 ruling which means supporters retain a majority say in their own team and fan movement is a real powerhouse as a result. Could you imagine how that suggestion would go down in England? It would be laughed at.
A man called Clough once uttered these words:
‘’We feel we should have a voice in running our industry – and I mean ours – I don’t mean mine. Because football belongs to everybody’’
This phrase belongs to another age but is still used today. I fear the meaning of it, however, is becoming lost. We like the sound of it but I can’t help think that we have surrendered our say.
Chapter 2 – Deep Flaws
I will be the first to admit that I didn’t ever hold much hope of English football being able to free itself from the stranglehold it finds itself in. And I still don’t. Yet the pandemic, for all its horrible consequences, has exposed some deep flaws within the game which may, strangely, provide some motivation for change.
The game is in a right old state. There are no simple escape routes and decision makers have got a very difficult situation to resolve. A situation that is in part their own making. And I worry, however unprecedented this virus is, that football has compromised itself through its own greed.
I am not suggesting they should have foreseen the spread of a deadly virus but it should maybe have given greater thought to selling its soul to every organisation and chancer who wants to get rich off the game or get their moment in the spotlight. And even still the money pours out nearly as fast as it pours in, perhaps quicker, in a never ending quest for dominance. Dominance for the best and richest ‘product’ which investors and broadcasters will pay the most for.
It doesn’t consider how to keep itself sustainable in case the boom turns to bust or how it can spread this vast wealth to the real benefit of smaller clubs and the revolution of grassroots football. Instead the rich and powerful get ever more rich and powerful. That is until, like now, the game and subsequently the money stops flowing – suddenly paying out these ludicrous sums of money seems a bad idea, especially with the possibility of your sponsors and your broadcasters enquiring about getting their money back.
Put bluntly it’s very possible that football needs to come back, and quickly, because if it does not it will implode.
It’s suckled on the teat of its broadcasters and its sponsors way too hard. Big clubs have loaded up on ‘assets’ like a panic buying cock in Asda. Players they do not need but can’t let anyone else have. Further down, the top flight clubs wonder whether to push themselves way over the limit to bust into that gold mine. And those circling in the moat that is The Championship are so desperate for a place at the feast they risk the financial stability of the club and breaking financial rules to scramble across the drawbridge when it drops every May.
Every season I am irritated by the description of The Championship play-off final in a monetary sense. The ‘£500 million game’ or whatever sum it is these days; it seems to go up by £150m every season. Apart from the supporters nobody stops to think about what this single 90 minutes is actually about, how much it means to visit Wembley as a player and a fan and what joy victory would bring. Most of us don’t give a damn about the money; we’re thinking about how we got there, a jolly in some new places and going toe to toe with the best in the country. But instead it’s sold as who will get rich.
It’s so wrong. Football in and around the Premier League has lost its way in its own quest for power and a desire to make money.
Yet still clubs are readily falling back on taxpayer bail-outs in response to this pandemic. This did lead to the rare sight of collective fan pressure working as clubs rallied back with sincere apologies amid big questions being asked.
Furloughing is especially a delicate matter at Championship level and a signpost to how unsustainable the race for promotion is. Each club that have relied on the Government Job Retention Scheme will have their reasons and some may be justified. But if these same clubs are back spending ridiculous amounts on new acquisitions in the months ahead then they deserve our disdain. And it will be important they get both barrels. We mustn’t lose this thought in the glee of a new multi-million pound striker.
I hope this enforced watershed will give rise to us all being a little more conscious about how our football club operates. That wages outstripping our total turnover by half is not ambition, its recklessness. And that, as supporters, we should covet a role as guardians of our clubs to protect their long-term interests and not short-term aspirations.
If it doesn’t we have wasted this opportunity.
The entire football industry will lose out due to Covid-19 but those down the leagues will be hardest hit. Those dependent almost entirely on gate receipts face a particularly tough period – not only will they be unsure how they survive but their prospects do not appear to be a big part of this debate. Focus sadly sits with whoever will be backstroking like Scrooge McDuck in the Premier League and Champions League money pits next season.
Andy Holt, owner of Accrington Stanley, has made some persuasive points to question how unfeasible resuming the season is from his perspective. With no supporters permitted but many of the usual costs involved with holding a game in place clubs, especially those with little to play for, face further hardship. Coupled with this, furloughed staff will be required and their salaries, previously met substantially by the Government, will somehow need to be financed. They just cannot afford it. But does anyone in power care about that? A top level cash injection has been mooted but will no doubt be way down pecking order.
If a decent chunk of Premier League clubs didn’t fancy paying their own staff during the pandemic will they suddenly feel obliged to chuck several million into the lower leagues?
While the top levels fret about reimbursing broadcasters I’m nervous where months of supporter-free football leaves clubs further down who are almost fully reliant on gate receipts. And this applies to clubs outside of the Football League too.
Of course there are very valid reasons why the 2019/20 season should return. Joe Worrall demonstrated how important it is to him from a career perspective and various clubs, including Forest, have earned a right to challenge for achievements following a strong season. There would inevitably be a horrendous fall out from clubs being denied and the ramifications could be huge.
But as much as I want Forest to succeed I still can’t shake the idea that a resurrection of the 2019/20 this summer is unwise. That’s not to say it should be voided but to see whether it’s possible to pick it up somewhere down the line. The problem there is money once again will dictate that both 2019/20 and 2020/21 will need to be played out, by hell or high water.
A completed 2019/20 campaign could be a good thing I think but it’s dependent on so much and is a resolution the most important factor here? As the days go by plans to finish the campaign gather strength but also seem to get more preposterous. Widespread testing which could maybe be best used elsewhere, players like Sergio Aguero admitting some players are scared, the plan to imprison players away from families for a prolonged period and the latest talk being of relegation being scrapped from the Premier League due to the unfairness of neutral venues. This just seems like having your cake and eating it. Clubs want the money a completed season will bring but without any risk of losing access to the golden goose.
I can see the appeal of finishing the season and I can acknowledge why it should but I’m honestly not sure it is being done for the right reasons. And, in a climate where much of the country is having to be flexible and financially prudent, the upper end of football looks like it’s got no such plan to do the same.
Chapter 3 – Dead Behind The Eyes
Amongst those losing out in football it shouldn’t surprise anyone to think that fans will be hit once more. The reasons may be justified but I am expecting supporters to fall even further back in the list of priorities.
With the likelihood of behind closed door matches it is very likely that thousands and thousands of individuals are going to be due partial refunds for season tickets and match tickets they can no longer attend.
As identified in Chapter 2 our football clubs face an uncertain time and I would think most fans will have some understanding that ticket monies may not instantly be recoverable. But this can’t be all one way. Clubs can’t hold on to fan money indefinitely without some communication, for instance. This even applies to season ticket revenue collected for a 2020/21 campaign which remains very much in doubt, at least in the anticipated format. And many supporters would benefit from recouping some of their outlay in these tough times.
Will supporters be entitled to money back on matches not fulfilled? Or are we being enticed into the spectacle of having games streamed live for our pleasure and in agreement we don’t chase our money back? Some clubs may genuinely struggle to meet these refund obligations and where possible you’d think fans will try and support them. But hopefully this is approached openly and honestly. Rather than some blanket expectation that supporters will pick up the tab once more.
At Forest where admission prices have been fair combined with welcome initiatives like free entry to pre-season friendlies hopefully supporters will, where possible, take a reasonable position on this and a workable solution can be found.
Beyond this the thought of us being barred from stadiums for the finale of the season and probably beyond is deeply troubling. I will not argue with the justification of this, clearly large gatherings are going to be off limits for a while and no-one is going to question that. Yet, as already inferred, if football is shoehorned in out of necessity then it is fans who will pay the price.
You may have heard the Leeds fan on Talksport recently who was mocked by the presenters for suggesting that he would rather his team not get promoted if fans were not there to be part of it. I appreciate lots will not agree with this but I can sympathise with his view.
The prospect of this is crucifying to supporters. I feel perhaps the kinship and the emotion of being stood shoulder to shoulder with our fellow fans; the ride that we go on season after season come rain or shine, is something those at the top of the game have little knowledge of. That football for us is in no way a television event, nor is it about what league we play in or how successful we are.
And this is why I fear match going supporters are so misjudged. Forget the moans online about the latest defeat or not signing enough players; inside the football grounds across the country the allegiances, the relationships and the moments we share together are everything. Whether it’s a spanking at Gillingham or a last minute winner at Pride Park.
So don’t tell us that the return of football in any capacity is the most important thing. Because it’s not to all of us.
Using Forest as an obvious example, we had previously faced a thrilling end to the season. Promotion was possible, the play-offs loomed. God forbid maybe we might make a maiden trip to the new Wembley and banish that particular hoodoo.
Imagine the days that *potentially* lay ahead. Imagine the memories.
We haven’t just waited for such occasions, we’ve dreamt of them. Christ, we’ve even sobbed over them once or twice.
It appears to be an almost certainty that we won’t be there to see them if they happen. And if they don’t happen for Forest that’s not really the point, because they’ll be another team’s amazing moments that will be lost.
Cast your mind back and think about Collymore at Peterborough in ’93, Bart Williams against Reading in ’98, Osborn at Pride Park in 2015 or Cohen’s goal in 2017 that secured safety. Imagine those moments in an empty stadium; imagine not a single Forest supporter being present.
Think too about Jimmy Glass’ heroics for Carlisle to keep them in the Football League, Troy Deeney against Leicester in the play-offs or Aguero snatching the title for City at the death.
These incredible times are nothing without spectators. It is the outpouring of emotion and jubilation that define them and make them so special.
A friend of mine has just finished reading a book on South American football and its supporters. It contains a quote from a Uruguayan journalist named Eduardo Galeano which struck a chord, especially now:
‘’Have you ever entered an empty stadium? Try it. Stand in the middle of the field and listen. There is nothing less empty than an empty stadium. There is nothing less mute than stands bereft of spectators.’’
My argument here isn’t that BCD games should automatically be ruled out, more that I suspect football’s decision makers can’t ever see how painful this is for many fans. They are blind. They are ruled by spreadsheets and legalities, not the deep romance that the game stirs up. It is why they see no issue in supporters being treated so poorly. For them I sense the return of football in empty stadiums this summer will be a resounding success.
I would be gobsmacked if a scenario that at least tries to put supporters first has even been strongly considered. Because football, which never stops telling us how important we are, has a habit of forgetting us.
Perhaps this is the best of a bad solution but the failure to pause and think is telling – governing bodies could use the opportunity to actively look at ways to put the season back to later in the year, maybe allowing fans to be present. To use this downtime to ease worries and strengthen the position of Football League clubs facing financial run and considering that, as explained in Chapter 2, indefinite BCD games are potentially catastrophic for them. And seriously put some thought into how financially crippled even the biggest clubs have become and how troubling that is.
Yet I don’t think any such ideas will be thought about nearly enough. We are also told why football has to return but it doesn’t seem to be on their radar to wonder why it shouldn’t. The increased health risks, the prospect of footballers being isolated from families at a worrying time, the burden it places on smaller clubs and Liverpool winning the league*. Plus a season finale that no-one is going to be part of.
For the broadcasters this will also be a victory. Daily matches screened to a fatigued nation and the best thing is they’ll have us where they wanted us all along. On our sofas. All time high viewing figures and no anti-Sky chants having to be edited out. Bliss.
We are being fed the line that screened games will lift a jaded football family as the Palace Chairman Steve Parish recently suggested in The Sunday Times. And perhaps they will but I can’t help but think once the novelty wears off months of football behind closed doors will become farcical and tedious. I have this suspicion many, especially those of us who would have otherwise been there in those empty stadiums, will start to feel detached from it. God forbid maybe find other things to do with our Saturday’s. And maybe that will bring longer term implications.
The immediate scenario is as dark as ever and there needs to be some talk at least of reforms that address how football is so far removed from its people and so rich yet teetering constantly on the edge of the cliff. I do not doubt there is no perfect immediate scenario but I feel that football, more than ever, needs to think outside its money box. Starting now.
The return of football this summer without its supporters would be nothing more than a zombie season. Upright and moving but dead behind the eyes.
Soulless.
But then again maybe that’s just the way it is these days.