Perhaps like many football fans who have read the suggestions that this season may be completed behind closed doors amidst the coronavirus pandemic, I have found myself becoming increasingly irked at the authorities.
This period of sporting absence must be treated as a learning curve, not a time of sorrow. The thought of a full season resuming behind closed doors would not only be a middle finger to supporters, but it would likely confirm where the Premier League and EFL’s priorities lie. Simply ploughing through the remaining fixtures, taking a few weeks to re-charge and then going again oblivious to the current situation would be utterly irresponsible. Bringing football back prematurely primarily for the cameras, not the matchday fan, would throw all integrity down the drain.
In what is the most seismic disruption to the sporting calendar since World War II, our sporting institutions must take a backseat to reflect on current inequities of the game. Paying £39 to visit the away end at Elland Road is inexplicable. Sending Sunderland fans to Bristol on a Tuesday night is shameful. Altering kick off times and dates weeks in advance for television cameras must be executed more mindfully. This reset must be utilised for all aspects of the game, but no more so than the lifeblood of the game – the ones who keep the turnstiles clicking: the fans.
And yet to take a broader view, allowing critical paramedics and doctors to sit waiting in ambulances, as the Premier League dances on, would be reckless. To allow even one ambulance to idle its engine in the corner of a football ground instead of helping the hard-pressed NHS during a pandemic would tarnish all credibility. The only thought for now is fully empowering the NHS, not the viewing figures for Sky Sports.
As Wayne Rooney precisely put it last week – even the thought of playing on as NHS employees continue to battle on the front-line is unimaginable. The idea of the country’s elite taking to the grass whilst young children up and down the country continue to be locked down in their homes would be detrimental to the game.
So, to sit in those conference calls and come to the conclusion that a public announcement stating the season will resume on June 1st: let’s politely file that one under “optimistic moves.” These dates look to have been set based on conforming to television rights and avoid a £732 million pay-off, and not to please the fans. It would also raise questions as to the bookmaker’s influence, further questioning the already tight-knit relationship between the two.
In shifting times, amidst unprecedented circumstances, the fans have been a constant: obediently renewing their season tickets for next season [with a start date unconfirmed], tuning in to the club’s YouTube channel to re-watch classic matches from their hazily remembered past, continuing to drive money into these sporting businesses. In times like these, you truly didn’t realise what you had until its gone. Admit it, you are longing for a Super Sunday of Burnley v Newcastle and Bournemouth v Palace.
A few weeks back at Old Trafford, Watford fans flooded the urinals at full-time with hot piss and steaming rage. Thinking about what could have been, if it hadn’t had been for VAR. But in hindsight you wouldn’t change it for the world. It is the puce-tinged rage and dejection which comes with the yellow lights of hope and joy. It is not merely an outlandish point to suggest that clubs like Watford, and Villa, need their fans more than ever during fights for survival. If games were to be played without home fans, especially at times of need, then one would again have to question the priorities within the game. Why not have patience, not greed, in times like these?
One could equally argue, of course, that team’s hopeful of promotion would be disadvantaged. When Forest beat Leeds at the City Ground in early February, it was football as a crowd-event, one in which neutrals could watch the game through the prism of the fans, the shared expression of energy, watching the whole match framed through their reactions. To complete the season without the backdrop of home support would offer far too much controversy, of what could and might have been.
We now face a challenge so bizarre that no one even knows how to feel, this pandemic still seems too apocalyptic and dystopian to be true. And so, as the next few months pass by, it will be hard not to feel dejected, even a touch bereft. At the end of this hiatus we will get our merited rewards: the moments of joy when the game returns, those throbbing memories of last minute goals, and not least the feeling of relief when people are re-connected with their loved ones. Football must wait for when the NHS is ready. And when that time comes, we can all shriek our happiness and pride in unison.
Alex's Sports Column 