Great Football Cliches

Saturday 19^th August

Everton v Watford

So, I think, what with my evident lack of commitment to keeping a diary, amongst other reasons, that I should call these pieces ‘fair weather fan’. Nobody else replied to my mail and so I just sent off for Silver Memberships for Joss and myself (like, not level 2 at all, but level four out of five (after two different platinumns and gold)). Also, I didn’t go to any of the pre-season friendlies, culminating in a 1-1 draw with Inter and a 2-1 win over Chievo Verona, both at the Vic. Today was Watford’s first game in the Premiership for 7 years and I didn’t go. Never really thought about going either, despite at one point thinking about trying to publish this…

Watford’s first ever game in the First Division was against Everton and we won 2-0. My granddad, who’d been in Mount Vernon Hospital for a couple of weeks, died in the morning, but my dad still took me and my younger brother, Trevor, to the game at 3pm. It was 1982. I was 12. Trevor was 9. It was my mother’s father who died. Jim - as we called him - hadn’t lasted 9 months after his wife, nanny - as we called her, Mary, as he did – died on the morning of New Year’s Day. My mum had lost both parents. Trevor and I didn’t go to the funerals.

I didn’t go to today’s game either. Sat at home and spent a lot of time pretending to be doing my dissertation (on The Global Justice Movements and Human Rights, since you ask) but really making various excuses to sit in front of Sky Sports News (at least, normally, with an old copy of New Internationalist in my hand, scanning it for mentions of human rights). It is only Sky Sports News and Sky One that I get on my cable TV. Fortunately for my relationship with Jun, I dislike Murdoch and his transnational right-wing tax dodging corporation too much to pay (directly at least) for anything he profits from. We got a ninetieth minute goal but had already let in two.

I watched it later on Match of the Day. One of the two goals was from a penalty awarded for handball after the ball hit Chris Powell (summer signing from Charlton) smack-bang on the forehead. Gotta say it: we wuz robbed. Oh, and if this is ever read by anyone, well done to you travelling fans.