Article Source:www.euro2012facebook.com–The life of a plastic football fan.
Attending the Cardiff v Liverpool Carling Cup Final match got me thinking – why do people support clubs they have no affiliation to and live miles and miles away from? What is there to get out of this other than – I’m sure – watching a side that is, most of the time, going to win? Sure, there’s a sense of satisfaction watching something you’re connected to do so well, but is it really that fun if there’s that less of a risk losing? Every kid goes through a phase of supporting one of the “Big teams” (It was either Man United, Arsenal or Liverpool when I was growing up) but I feel that when you start to go into your teenage years you should be developed enough, mentally, to see sense and support a club you actually have a real connection to. To not be a plastic fan anymore.
Want to be a qualified football fan, first of all have to have a top soccer jerseys
For some, though, they haven’t indulged themselves into the extremely satisfying world of football from an early age so, understandably, they aren’t aware of many names other than the Wayne Rooney’s and Steven Gerrard’s of the game who are fed to them day-to-day in tabloid papers. Headlines that read “Wayne Rooney seals derby with amazing overhead kick”. They are forced to know these names so, naturally, when they are asked what team they support they provide an answer to which they have some decent knowledge behind.
Plastic: “I support Manchester United”
Other guy: Why?
Plastic: Did you not see Wayne Rooney’s amazing overhead kick the other day?
Other guy: I did. And I can see so did you. I now accept you as a football supporting human.
Boom. We have now witnessed a plastic fan’s birth. Now this guy will make sure he reads up on anything to do with Manchester United due to him committing the truly awful sin of “Thou shalt not be a plastic arsehole.” (God asked for that one to be left out of the final edit) This guy has never been to Manchester in his life, he’s never watched a Manchester United game voluntarily, only being forced to by his full-blown stage 4 plastic fan mates in the pub a couple of times. You see, I like to think being a plastic fan has four stages:
Stage 1 plastic fan: Jumps onto to the bandwagon of supporting one of the successful sides for no apparent reason, he will already start to develop complex excuses for this behaviour.
Stage 2 plastic fan: Now committed, does relevant research to back up his now awful excuse for a life.
Stage 3 plastic fan: Watches his first game. He hates it. But as soon as Rooney scores he stands up and cheers to make sure everyone knows he’s “enjoying” it. He will also make fun of people who support the local championship team, calling them “a small club” and “Why do you support that pile of shit? United is where it’s at.” He will then proceed to breaking into a chant he read off the forum.
Stage 4 plastic fan: Plasters his office desk, bedroom and car with souvenirs relevant with “His” club. He now, sickeningly, refers to the club as “We.” His profile picture on bookface is now of Wayne Rooney kissing the badge. He’s now too far along the line to be saved. This is now his life.
“Yes!!” They screamed, as Manchester United lost. Now they can all go into work the next day and make fun of their Manchester United supporting mate. I believe the conversation will include frustrating wording, such as “Your team” and “My team were so good” and “Gotta love being a scouser.” For the love of god, man. You are not scouse, you’re from Ipswich. Go and watch them. There are people who live in places that have high quality football being played there, for instance Cardiff, but instead choose to support these teams because it’s the easier option. We aren’t going to care if you don’t know the ins and outs and every player who plays for us, that comes with time, but for the time-being you’re supporting this club and its dreams. You’re part of something special, and maybe one day it will reach the heights of the glory team you used to support, but at least you can say I was there from the start.
You see, watching a game with my father when I was a nipper when we were in League One with the likes of Andy Campbell and Rhys Weston in the side, I was captivated by the passion of the fans. It was breathtaking. I thought Cardiff were some god-awful side due to them not having players like Giggsy and Paul Scholes in their line-up, but it didn’t matter, you’re there for more than the egos that are wearing the piece of polyester with the club crest on it, you’re there to support the club. Seeing Robert Earnshaw score for us, I have never cheered louder in my life. It was a new experience and it is one that can never be rivaled by supporting a side week-in week-out in the local pub on the TV or on your living room couch.
This has become somewhat of a rant, and to be honest I don’t want it to seem that way. It’s just so easy to poke fun at these numbskulls, and poke fun at how I used to be. Yes, I used to “Support” Mannche..
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Okay, it is very hard to type and admit this. I will do it slowly. I, I used to support Manchester United.
I know Snape, I know. In my defense I started seeing the light in my teenage years, and though Cardiff City were my second team for my own select reasons, I would watch Match of the Day to see Manchester United results like all the other plastics. My father has always had a soft spot for Cardiff so I had always looked out for Cardiff’s results, but seeing as all my mates supported any of the big teams it was either support them or be the weirdo. I was the weirdo anyway so I kind of pulled the short straw there no matter what way you look at it. The point still stands though, it was the norm to support the big teams or not have anything to talk about in the football conversations.
I was too young to make the sensible decision, and as time went on most of us grew out of this and started supporting our local big teams, Cardiff or Swansea. Thankfully, I have never looked back since. It’s kind of like war veterans; you try to talk to them about what they done in the war they start getting edgy and deny everything. That is almost the same experience you’ll get when talking to a former plastic fan about what he used to do, although it’s a bit more traumatic having to be one of them.
What classifies you as a plastic fan, then? Because, to be fair, there are a few fans out there who get called a plastic fan when they don’t deserve to be. Some people can’t go to the games for legitimate reasons. Take one of my Liverpool supporting friends for example, his father is from Liverpool but he has lived in Hereford all his life so attending games is obviously a struggle considering the cost and distance. He has a legitimate reason to support this team, I think, and as long as you go when you have the opportunity then fair enough. It is those that claim they are “massive fans” but have absolutely no connection at all to their team and come up with tedious excuses to try to justify their support, it is those fans that need a Chuck Norris style roundhouse kick to the face.
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