Love & hate relationship - The beautiful game
Posted: Sun Apr 10, 2005 12:16 amSometimes I just absolutley HATE football. Do you ever get the same feeling?
Tuesday had me walking 50 feet tall with pride after watching my team bring back echoes of our glory days, today brought me down to earth with a very sobering bump.
Now I'm not one of these fair-weather fans who's ecstatic when we win and calling for the manager's head when we lose, quite the opposite I'm old enough and ugly enough to realise that sometimes you need to bite your lip and count to three before you dive in feet-first (take note, Mr Baros).
But anyway, this isn't a rant about how sh*te today's result was, or how sh*te our away form has been all season. This is a rant (albeit a futile one) about how the game of football in general drives me up the f*cking wall and how sometimes I wish I didn't follow the game at all.
Results like today's just wreck what's left of my weekend. I went to Tesco's this evening and I was in a foul mood all the way round and kept having to ask myself why? I don't have any other particular worries in life that would be niggling me, it's the weekend and it's my time to chill out, but every time I asked myself the question it was abvious - I was in a foul mood cos my team had lost.
I looked round at loads of the people there, many of whom probably don't give a monkeys about football and they just looked happy & relaxed, whereas I just couldn't get this horrible feeling out of my head. I was a bear with a sore head.
Ever since I can remember I have had weekends ruined by the simple fact that my team had lost a game of football. OK, I've had weekends when I've been happy cos my team's won, and weekends where I've been ecstatic cos we've beaten everton or the sh*te, but sometimes it seems the downs can have a worse effect than the ups.
I've sometimes wondered if things were different for a supporter of a smaller club with less weight of expectation, but when I speak to my father-in-law about being a Leicester supporter it's exactly the same for him, when they lose it just puts him in a mood for days.
The whole game just really f*cks me off sometimes and makes me wonder "is it all worth it?"
Anyway, that's my rant finished. I'm sure I'll feel fractionally better about it all tomorrow, and hopefully a little bit better again come 5pm if Palace can do us a favour. And of course manure got humbled which makes things a bit better
But sometimes I still really f*cking hate football. I'm not saying I could live without it or anything, just that sometimes I just f*cking hate what it does to me
Tuesday had me walking 50 feet tall with pride after watching my team bring back echoes of our glory days, today brought me down to earth with a very sobering bump.
Now I'm not one of these fair-weather fans who's ecstatic when we win and calling for the manager's head when we lose, quite the opposite I'm old enough and ugly enough to realise that sometimes you need to bite your lip and count to three before you dive in feet-first (take note, Mr Baros).
But anyway, this isn't a rant about how sh*te today's result was, or how sh*te our away form has been all season. This is a rant (albeit a futile one) about how the game of football in general drives me up the f*cking wall and how sometimes I wish I didn't follow the game at all.
Results like today's just wreck what's left of my weekend. I went to Tesco's this evening and I was in a foul mood all the way round and kept having to ask myself why? I don't have any other particular worries in life that would be niggling me, it's the weekend and it's my time to chill out, but every time I asked myself the question it was abvious - I was in a foul mood cos my team had lost.
I looked round at loads of the people there, many of whom probably don't give a monkeys about football and they just looked happy & relaxed, whereas I just couldn't get this horrible feeling out of my head. I was a bear with a sore head.
Ever since I can remember I have had weekends ruined by the simple fact that my team had lost a game of football. OK, I've had weekends when I've been happy cos my team's won, and weekends where I've been ecstatic cos we've beaten everton or the sh*te, but sometimes it seems the downs can have a worse effect than the ups.
I've sometimes wondered if things were different for a supporter of a smaller club with less weight of expectation, but when I speak to my father-in-law about being a Leicester supporter it's exactly the same for him, when they lose it just puts him in a mood for days.
The whole game just really f*cks me off sometimes and makes me wonder "is it all worth it?"
Anyway, that's my rant finished. I'm sure I'll feel fractionally better about it all tomorrow, and hopefully a little bit better again come 5pm if Palace can do us a favour. And of course manure got humbled which makes things a bit better
But sometimes I still really f*cking hate football. I'm not saying I could live without it or anything, just that sometimes I just f*cking hate what it does to me
