Post by Macmoish on Nov 5, 2010 6:29:12 GMT
"At what point does it become acceptable to want your team to lose?" Interesting question...!
Guardian/Harry Pearson
Season of the un-supporters' club
If Roberto Mancini is going to get sacked, wouldn't it be better to get it over with quickly and humanely via a few 7-0 hammerings than let the thing drag painfully on?
When Channel 4 used to show Serie A games a friend of mine told me he had watched the first half-dozen or so but had then given up "because, apart from Juventus, I don't really know who I want to lose". This is a common feeling for many football supporters, among whom Gore Vidal's adage "It's not enough that I succeed, others must fail" is more or less a defining philosophy. To those of us who fall into this category attending a football match as a genuine neutral, it is as baffling a concept as watching a horse race on which you haven't placed a bet.
Back in the 90s an article in When Saturday Comes raised the issue of "un-supporting". The writer suggested, quite correctly, that just as there are results we look out for in a positive way, so there are those teams whose progress we track purely in the hope of seeing them stumble and fall.
Sadly, life is not always so simple. There is a fine line between love and hate. During the reign of a singularly useless manager the fan's feelings towards the team he supports and the teams he un-supports may begin to merge. Soon, subconsciously at least, his fear of disaster has become a longing for it and he starts to take a bitter delight in his own side's every mishap, seeing it as another step towards change.
Are the Liverpool supporters who chanted for the return of Kenny Dalglish not now just the tiniest little disappointed by the back-to-back wins under Roy Hodgson? If Roberto Mancini is going to get sacked, wouldn't it be better to get it over with quickly and humanely via a few 7-0 hammerings than let the thing drag painfully on till Christmas with a string of dull draws and the occasional 1-0 win?
When exactly it becomes acceptable to want your team to lose is a massive philosophical question, one that surely demands the creation of a chair of Football Fan Ethics at the University of Leicester. Suffice it to say, it is not a step any supporter takes lightly. After all, only a fool would expect his or her relationship with their football club to be easy, in fact, quite the opposite. Most of us take pride in suffering. Anybody could love a sex-bomb like Chelsea. It is the soft option. Because it clearly requires greater moral integrity to remain steadfastly faithful to Mark Corrigan than it does to devote your life tending to the needs of George Clooney. Nevertheless, there comes a point when patience ceases to be a virtue.
Such a realisation does not come overnight. It is a gradual process. At first the fan still feels the sharp pain of each defeat, but draws consolation from the fact that it may represent a turning point, a moment when the scales finally fall from the gaffer's eyes and he realises that he needs to switch to 4-3-3, or drop that spineless Brazilian he paid £7m for in the summer.He may perhaps begin a campaign of passive resistance.
For a number of years during the chairmanship of Sir Alan Sugar a friend of mine waged psychological warfare against Spurs by boycotting Match of the Day whenever they lost. Some players' careers began and ended without him ever hearing Gary Lineker make a pun based on their surname, but sadly it had little impact on the hierarchy at White Hart Lane.
To assuage feelings of treachery the fan may also attempt to disguise his sabotage operation. He will scan the internet hoping to see the manager linked with vacancies. And if they are, he will announce philosophically that, "Well, it's a fantastic opportunity and he did play three games for them back in the 1970s".
A poor run of results for England would create a vacancy with the national team. This time it has to be an Englishman. How many more catastrophic derby defeats will it take before Sunderland fans are voicing the opinion that "Steve Bruce would do a fantastic job with that group of players. Be sad to see him go with the job only half done here, but it would be wrong to stand in his way and the country needs him"?
When such measures have failed it becomes obvious to most fans that the time for pussyfooting around is over. The club needs to be taught a harsh lesson for its own good. Once the supporter has arrived at this state, all normal reactions are reversed. His catchphrase at home games becomes "There you are. What did I tell you?"
He listens to radio reports on a defeat with grim satisfaction. He cackles cynically at fluffed chances, begins to regard the deflection that sends his goalkeeper the wrong way not as wicked or cruel but as merciful and just.
For any supporter who wants changes in the dugout, the next two months are crucial. Losing streaks must be well timed. Too early and they will not spread the necessary panic in the boardroom, too late and, well, only a madman would cheer their team to defeat in late-March when they are hovering around the drop zone. Not even the most selflessly devoted fan wants relegation, they just want to use the threat of it for leverage. It is the brinkmanship of the drop and this is its season.
www.guardian.co.uk/global/blog/2010/nov/05/harry-pearson-fickle-football-fans
Guardian/Harry Pearson
Season of the un-supporters' club
If Roberto Mancini is going to get sacked, wouldn't it be better to get it over with quickly and humanely via a few 7-0 hammerings than let the thing drag painfully on?
When Channel 4 used to show Serie A games a friend of mine told me he had watched the first half-dozen or so but had then given up "because, apart from Juventus, I don't really know who I want to lose". This is a common feeling for many football supporters, among whom Gore Vidal's adage "It's not enough that I succeed, others must fail" is more or less a defining philosophy. To those of us who fall into this category attending a football match as a genuine neutral, it is as baffling a concept as watching a horse race on which you haven't placed a bet.
Back in the 90s an article in When Saturday Comes raised the issue of "un-supporting". The writer suggested, quite correctly, that just as there are results we look out for in a positive way, so there are those teams whose progress we track purely in the hope of seeing them stumble and fall.
Sadly, life is not always so simple. There is a fine line between love and hate. During the reign of a singularly useless manager the fan's feelings towards the team he supports and the teams he un-supports may begin to merge. Soon, subconsciously at least, his fear of disaster has become a longing for it and he starts to take a bitter delight in his own side's every mishap, seeing it as another step towards change.
Are the Liverpool supporters who chanted for the return of Kenny Dalglish not now just the tiniest little disappointed by the back-to-back wins under Roy Hodgson? If Roberto Mancini is going to get sacked, wouldn't it be better to get it over with quickly and humanely via a few 7-0 hammerings than let the thing drag painfully on till Christmas with a string of dull draws and the occasional 1-0 win?
When exactly it becomes acceptable to want your team to lose is a massive philosophical question, one that surely demands the creation of a chair of Football Fan Ethics at the University of Leicester. Suffice it to say, it is not a step any supporter takes lightly. After all, only a fool would expect his or her relationship with their football club to be easy, in fact, quite the opposite. Most of us take pride in suffering. Anybody could love a sex-bomb like Chelsea. It is the soft option. Because it clearly requires greater moral integrity to remain steadfastly faithful to Mark Corrigan than it does to devote your life tending to the needs of George Clooney. Nevertheless, there comes a point when patience ceases to be a virtue.
Such a realisation does not come overnight. It is a gradual process. At first the fan still feels the sharp pain of each defeat, but draws consolation from the fact that it may represent a turning point, a moment when the scales finally fall from the gaffer's eyes and he realises that he needs to switch to 4-3-3, or drop that spineless Brazilian he paid £7m for in the summer.He may perhaps begin a campaign of passive resistance.
For a number of years during the chairmanship of Sir Alan Sugar a friend of mine waged psychological warfare against Spurs by boycotting Match of the Day whenever they lost. Some players' careers began and ended without him ever hearing Gary Lineker make a pun based on their surname, but sadly it had little impact on the hierarchy at White Hart Lane.
To assuage feelings of treachery the fan may also attempt to disguise his sabotage operation. He will scan the internet hoping to see the manager linked with vacancies. And if they are, he will announce philosophically that, "Well, it's a fantastic opportunity and he did play three games for them back in the 1970s".
A poor run of results for England would create a vacancy with the national team. This time it has to be an Englishman. How many more catastrophic derby defeats will it take before Sunderland fans are voicing the opinion that "Steve Bruce would do a fantastic job with that group of players. Be sad to see him go with the job only half done here, but it would be wrong to stand in his way and the country needs him"?
When such measures have failed it becomes obvious to most fans that the time for pussyfooting around is over. The club needs to be taught a harsh lesson for its own good. Once the supporter has arrived at this state, all normal reactions are reversed. His catchphrase at home games becomes "There you are. What did I tell you?"
He listens to radio reports on a defeat with grim satisfaction. He cackles cynically at fluffed chances, begins to regard the deflection that sends his goalkeeper the wrong way not as wicked or cruel but as merciful and just.
For any supporter who wants changes in the dugout, the next two months are crucial. Losing streaks must be well timed. Too early and they will not spread the necessary panic in the boardroom, too late and, well, only a madman would cheer their team to defeat in late-March when they are hovering around the drop zone. Not even the most selflessly devoted fan wants relegation, they just want to use the threat of it for leverage. It is the brinkmanship of the drop and this is its season.
www.guardian.co.uk/global/blog/2010/nov/05/harry-pearson-fickle-football-fans
