Or are you leaving it here on the toilet floor? asks Alex Whybrow.
I love my club. No more or less, I’m sure, than anyone reading this. I’m sure we all defend our club, our team, the performances and the players with an amount of love, forgiveness, passion and understanding that any other organisation could only dream of.
And any fan of 95% of clubs in this country can point to a period of time where they stuck by their club when everything was going wrong – we still turned up when players requested a transfer, managers got sacked, owners cut their losses and all the rest.
But there must be a line, mustn’t there? A point where you have to say – alright, enough is enough, I can’t go on. And I would imagine for most of those fans of the 95% of clubs, that the line has very little to do with what happens on the pitch – it’s about more than that. It’s about when you feel your club, and the sport in general, has gotten so far away from what you fell in love with, that it just doesn’t seem worth the bother.
I don’t know where that line is for me and my club. But I know that I am much closer to it now, while we are currently experiencing the best period on the pitch in my lifetime, than I was when I was watching us struggle in the Championship.
The prices for the Champions League fixtures at Villa Park are disgusting. And I don’t think that’s hyperbole, it really is disgusting. It’s nakedly taking advantage of the loyalty that fans have shown over the years – we have been desperate to get back amongst this level, and now that we’re there we have to pay through the nose to witness it.
Because if we don’t, someone else will. Fuck the atmosphere, fuck what it means to you, fuck your loyalty and fuck you. This is the price; pay it or fuck off. Hopefully the person that takes your seat will eat more burgers than you.
Of course this will be spun as a reaction to the ridiculous PSR (feel free to replace with the ‘acronym relating to financial regulations in the sport of football’ of your choice). The club has to make more revenue, or we’ll just have to sell another star player next summer in order to compete. Perhaps a better way to market the tickets would be to send out an email with Jacob Ramsey packing up his locker, with the silhouette of Ange ‘Big Ange’ Postecoglou rubbing his hands in the background? “Pay up or say goodbye to someone you love” could work as a slogan?
I know that those rules are flawed in many ways. And I know the club does have to generate more revenue in order to compete, but is this really the best idea our commercial team have come up with? Charge more for tickets, most of them will pay it. Brilliant.
How much more money will this generate? Some very quick maths (I may be way off here), but compared to say £50 a ticket (which I think would me more in line with what it should be), we’d make an extra £20 per season ticket holder (£20 x 30,000) and £40 for the additional sales (£40 x 10,000). So an extra £1 million per game, £4 million extra in total – assuming we sell out.
For context, we will be awarded close to that in prize money for winning two Champions League games. And with that money we could almost afford to pay Philippe Coutinho’s wages for six months.
(While looking up those figures, I googled how much it costs to unblock a urinal – and I think a conservative estimate is between £100-£200, depending on what caused the blockage. We could unblock 20,000 urinals with an extra £4 million; could that be the plan?)
Many of us will pay ridiculous amounts of money to watch Villa in the Champions League, because we love the club and also because we could see this coming. We’re getting charged more for everything, so of course we’re going to get squeezed for every penny, even though some won’t make it past this hurdle. A bit like in Squid Game – some people will fall away, never to be seen again. But if you’re still there, you’re focused on the game.
You shrug and carry on going, because you can. Fortunately, you have been practising your shrug, because when you turned up to the first game of the season, you had to queue for an obscene amount of time while the new system dealt with a few teething issues. Shrug. We could all see that coming, right? I’ve been at women’s matches at Villa Park where they messed up the turnstiles to make us all miss the kick off, and there were only a few thousand of us there.
So you get in, and stand in puddles of piss in order to go to the toilet. Shrug. It was like that last season, why on earth would you expect it to be any different. Anyway, fancy a drink – what have they got on – Carlsberg. Shrug. I’m alright actually, I might just go and lick the toilet floor.
It’s chipping away at us from both directions. Pay more and more. Expect less and less. And if you don’t like it, fuck off – we’ll get someone else in your place. They’ll be so happy to be here, they might buy a pint of Carlsberg.
So when will we reach the line? It seems there are some people within the club that are absolutely fascinated to find out, and will keep pushing until we get there. I’m intrigued too, to be honest – not because I want to get there, but I never imagined that there would ever be anything that would make me not want to go down the Villa. And yet, it feels like we will find my line soon. If not now, maybe when the next season ticket prices are announced. Or when my seat gets moved for hospitality.
Is there anything we can do about it? Probably not. I’m a member of the Supporters’ Trust, and I have nothing but respect for people that give up their time to try and make things different, but the club have shown that they don’t need to listen to any supporters group, so I really think we are helpless. Maybe a boycott of a League Cup game, should we advance and get drawn at home? Could that be organised? Would it make any difference? It would be nice for Villa fans to be at the front of a movement like this – but is there the appetite for it?
Failing that, I can probably muster a few more shrugs, and maybe a tut or two next time I’m standing in piss. That’s our place, that’s where we belong.