many reasons you're glad you're not a bluenose
- Your parents, though not perfect, knew the difference between right and wrong.
- You would have watched all your football from grounds resembling outside toilets.
- All your friends would have been as sad as you,
- Your shirt would have had the most appropriate sponsors' name ever.
- You never had to attend remedial classes at school.
- You never have to explain why your club has, yet again, dragged this city's name through
the mud.
- You never have to experience losing to non-league sides.
- You would never have to try and argue that getting relegated (again) gives the club a
chance to consolidate and rebuild.
- You never have to play in tin-pot competitions or pretend to be excited to reach their
finals,
- You can sing songs with words of more than two syllables and with a greater depth and
variety than excreting upon your neighbours.
- When you look at your club's crest you can feel genuine pride at its' achievements.
- You need never wonder how Huddersfield are getting on at York.
- You never cringe or laugh inappropriately when asked who you support.
- No matter how things have been, your Manager has never been a public embarrassment both
in deed and in appearance.
- Your club crest is recognisable rather than appearing to resemble a huge piece of
bellybutton fluff.
- Your all-time hero is not a Jasper Carrott-impersonating Antichrist.
- When television cameras show you in the crowd you will never look like you're a vagrant.
- You will never hear that grounds you have, visited hold you up as the kind of scum who
will not be welcome back in the future.
- Away fans can visit your ground without fearing for their lives.
- The executive stag at your club do not appear in the tabloids in their night-clothes, or
attempt to walk across a football pitch in stilettos.
- Your club is not financed through the exploitation and degradation of women to the
perverted and socially inadequate.
- You need never hope for a big name in the cup draw.
- Fans of your club won't shame you, or the club they profess to love, in the eyes of the
world at a boxing match.
- Your home ground won't be the last slum eyesore in Birmingham to be torn down.
- Your club won't have fifty professionals on its books, all of whom are no good according
to, and regularly humiliated by, the manager who bought them.
- But most of all, you will never have to be associated with one of the most piss-poor
outfits ever to call itself a football club.
David Rogers
Taken from Issue 36 |