A few days ago, I was having lunch with a party of work colleagues, and one of them had brought along his father-in-law, who was an ex-pat. He was the most engaging of people but who sadly, has not been back to England for some 32 years. Boy! will he ever be in for a shock should he decide to remedy that situation! As is the norm with us Brits, the talk quickly got around to football and I discovered that he followed Rotherham United. It was fascinating listening to him. When a certain kind of Englishman dreams of home, all manner of endearing images come clambering through his mind; best bitter, ripe Stilton, the “Today” programme, Test Match Special, Sunday roast, and, more warmly, Saturday afternoons.
This dear man is a good few years older than me but I was entranced as I listened to him recalling the Saturdays of his childhood. Fortunately, like myself, although over 50 years have passed, his memory was clear, but they way he described things was curiously moving. He spoke of sitting on the smoky top deck of a crowded tram and listening to men boldly speculating about the coming afternoon's events. Then as the tram got to the stop nearest the ground, spilling down the stairs and the excitement taking hold as he and his Dad alighted, and the crowd grew noticeably dense.
Passing through the rickety old turnstile at Millmoor, buying a programme from the old man that was selling them, and urgently checking the teamsheet to make sure that his heroes would be playing. Clutching his Dad's hand as they climbed the concrete steps, taking their places on the small terraces adjacent to the half-way line.
'I suppose it's all changed now?' he asked me. But it wasn't really a question. I couldn't help but recall to him my own younger days, and my visits to Old Trafford as a kid, and how the ground has changed now from those times, beyond all recognition. But I did have to tell him that the change has come at some cost. I explained to him that in this modern day, only the most affluent of fathers can take a couple of kids to matches at Old Trafford, and that for a large number of young kids today, attending a 'live' match at 'the theatre of dreams' is only that - just a dream. He looked at me rather dolefully, shook his old white head and retreated into his past. 'When I was a lad, going to the match meant everything' he said. 'We used to live for Saturday afternoons.'
Over the last few days, I've thought a lot about what this chap had to say. Saturday afternoon to my way of thinking has now been tossed into the dustbin of history. Forgive me for saying this, but that has to be some kind of a disgrace. This is certainly not a knee-jerk reaction to change - but in a way, is essentially a plea for the ordinary grass roots supporter to have his or her voice heard. Without doubt, the arrival of the Premiership, and Sky Television has irrevocably altered the character of our national game, and in a small yet damaging fashion, the very fabric of our national life.
For me, since the inception of the Premiership, the ordinary, grass roots fan has been sold down the river. The Chairmen, plc's, and television execs, care not one iota about the genuine fans. The grass roots supporter was always viewed by these people as somewhat of a problem, but today, they are now a decided nuisance. They sang when they were winning, wept when they lost, and when things were not going too well, gave the Board a really hard time, sometimes to the effect that they did force change. They were not prawn-sandwich people, nor did they fit the AB1 Bill, and were not advertiser friendly. Unfortunately, they were the kind of people that the powers that be, have spent the past decade or so desperately trying to discourage. In short, they were Saturday people. I think it's true to say that we now have a generation that have grown up to be Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday people!
A lot of changes have been forced upon the football fan in a relatively short space of time. Changes that are certainly unfair and also costly, not only to the fan, but also to industry. Fans have to travel long distances for games through the week, incurring great expense, and also for a lot of them, necessitating time off work to negotiate that travel. Even traveling on Sundays can be a problem especially when kick-offs are scheduled for noon. Trains are no more than rumours, while the motorways are mostly given over to Sir Robert McAlpine's men! To make sure that they get there on time, a lot opt to travel through the night - returning is somewhat different. Do the plc's, Boards, television people care? Not on your life - and why? Because to them the genuine grass roots fan doesn't matter anymore - they are found to be irksome, irrelevant.
Realistically, the suits make millions by pushing their product on pay-per-view, and much prefer an impotent, invisible audience, paying whatever it is to view a match, to a raucous band of genuine fans who would much rather have their voices heard than their cheques counted! Unfortunately today, if you want to understand the English game at its highest level, then you have to realize that the game is now organized shamelessly and exclusively, for the benefit of its television paymasters.
And yet again, I suppose that we shouldn't really blame the television companies. They exist to make profits for shareholders - the long term interests of English football are certainly of no consequence to them. As for the needless discomfort and increasing disillusion of the genuine fan, well these are only small matters of indifference to people who understand only ratings and balance sheets.
No, to be honest, I think that the blame lies squarely and indisputably with the F.A. and its shrill, arrogant offspring, the Premier League. Yes, we did want the F.A. to act on behalf of football, for the people who love it most dearly and for the besotted fans that follow it most fervently. But what did they do? They salivated at the sight of a cheque and sold themselves to a bunch of people who know nothing about football but a good deal about running television companies. In doing so, they killed off the traditional English Saturday afternoon, and much more besides.
I hark back to the old grey haired man's words: 'I suppose it's all changed now?' Indeed it has - a great deal more than he, or the present day generation will ever know.
This dear man is a good few years older than me but I was entranced as I listened to him recalling the Saturdays of his childhood. Fortunately, like myself, although over 50 years have passed, his memory was clear, but they way he described things was curiously moving. He spoke of sitting on the smoky top deck of a crowded tram and listening to men boldly speculating about the coming afternoon's events. Then as the tram got to the stop nearest the ground, spilling down the stairs and the excitement taking hold as he and his Dad alighted, and the crowd grew noticeably dense.
Passing through the rickety old turnstile at Millmoor, buying a programme from the old man that was selling them, and urgently checking the teamsheet to make sure that his heroes would be playing. Clutching his Dad's hand as they climbed the concrete steps, taking their places on the small terraces adjacent to the half-way line.
'I suppose it's all changed now?' he asked me. But it wasn't really a question. I couldn't help but recall to him my own younger days, and my visits to Old Trafford as a kid, and how the ground has changed now from those times, beyond all recognition. But I did have to tell him that the change has come at some cost. I explained to him that in this modern day, only the most affluent of fathers can take a couple of kids to matches at Old Trafford, and that for a large number of young kids today, attending a 'live' match at 'the theatre of dreams' is only that - just a dream. He looked at me rather dolefully, shook his old white head and retreated into his past. 'When I was a lad, going to the match meant everything' he said. 'We used to live for Saturday afternoons.'
Over the last few days, I've thought a lot about what this chap had to say. Saturday afternoon to my way of thinking has now been tossed into the dustbin of history. Forgive me for saying this, but that has to be some kind of a disgrace. This is certainly not a knee-jerk reaction to change - but in a way, is essentially a plea for the ordinary grass roots supporter to have his or her voice heard. Without doubt, the arrival of the Premiership, and Sky Television has irrevocably altered the character of our national game, and in a small yet damaging fashion, the very fabric of our national life.
For me, since the inception of the Premiership, the ordinary, grass roots fan has been sold down the river. The Chairmen, plc's, and television execs, care not one iota about the genuine fans. The grass roots supporter was always viewed by these people as somewhat of a problem, but today, they are now a decided nuisance. They sang when they were winning, wept when they lost, and when things were not going too well, gave the Board a really hard time, sometimes to the effect that they did force change. They were not prawn-sandwich people, nor did they fit the AB1 Bill, and were not advertiser friendly. Unfortunately, they were the kind of people that the powers that be, have spent the past decade or so desperately trying to discourage. In short, they were Saturday people. I think it's true to say that we now have a generation that have grown up to be Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday people!
A lot of changes have been forced upon the football fan in a relatively short space of time. Changes that are certainly unfair and also costly, not only to the fan, but also to industry. Fans have to travel long distances for games through the week, incurring great expense, and also for a lot of them, necessitating time off work to negotiate that travel. Even traveling on Sundays can be a problem especially when kick-offs are scheduled for noon. Trains are no more than rumours, while the motorways are mostly given over to Sir Robert McAlpine's men! To make sure that they get there on time, a lot opt to travel through the night - returning is somewhat different. Do the plc's, Boards, television people care? Not on your life - and why? Because to them the genuine grass roots fan doesn't matter anymore - they are found to be irksome, irrelevant.
Realistically, the suits make millions by pushing their product on pay-per-view, and much prefer an impotent, invisible audience, paying whatever it is to view a match, to a raucous band of genuine fans who would much rather have their voices heard than their cheques counted! Unfortunately today, if you want to understand the English game at its highest level, then you have to realize that the game is now organized shamelessly and exclusively, for the benefit of its television paymasters.
And yet again, I suppose that we shouldn't really blame the television companies. They exist to make profits for shareholders - the long term interests of English football are certainly of no consequence to them. As for the needless discomfort and increasing disillusion of the genuine fan, well these are only small matters of indifference to people who understand only ratings and balance sheets.
No, to be honest, I think that the blame lies squarely and indisputably with the F.A. and its shrill, arrogant offspring, the Premier League. Yes, we did want the F.A. to act on behalf of football, for the people who love it most dearly and for the besotted fans that follow it most fervently. But what did they do? They salivated at the sight of a cheque and sold themselves to a bunch of people who know nothing about football but a good deal about running television companies. In doing so, they killed off the traditional English Saturday afternoon, and much more besides.
I hark back to the old grey haired man's words: 'I suppose it's all changed now?' Indeed it has - a great deal more than he, or the present day generation will ever know.
