SNOWY has reservations about some fans


When it comes to the brain function of the average football fan, I'm tempted to paraphrase the words of Churchill describing the Germans...they're either at your feet or at your throat. And never more so than when it's opinion time.

I never fail to be amazed how some frothing, bulging-eyed beast wanting the manager's head on a stick can be transformed into a simpering lap-dog by the occurrence of a couple of wins, their world transformed.

Now while I have no problem with reasoned dissent post match, I still can't come to terms with the sort of 'fan' who assumes that it helps the team and its players to subject them to gormless abuse while the match is actually in progress. It's a bit like being cast adrift in a rubber dinghy, finding it has a tiny leak and taking a Stanley knife to it, slashing it a few times to teach it a lesson and then wondering why you're drowning. Totally failing to comprehend that in this particular instance, they need the dinghy more than it needs them. Anybody terminally dim enough to believe a player will improve by regularly abusing them should be sectioned." Anybody terminally dim enough to believe a player will improve by regularly abusing them should be sectioned"

The worst of these characters is the early bird. We all know one, they saw the player they love to loathe for the first time in a pre-season warm up, and knew before he'd kicked a ball that he was basically useless, and like a demented Doberweiler pit bull, was not going to let go once they'd sunk their teeth into the player, a sort of sad fatal attraction.

One of the real irritants of the game now at all levels is the rise of the Gobsh*te, the expert, the wise one. The one who should be managing the club, the great unused font of footballing wisdom giving his words of wisdom freely to those who will or won't listen, as his dulcet tones boom out from the terrace the sum total of his footballing wisdom, as if addressing a public meeting where no one is listening willingly. Being lectured whilst doing your job by a confirmed idiot is hardly likely to increase productivity, especially so in football.

That's the trouble with the game now, there's just too much football, feeding unrealistic expectations and creating unreasonable demands. On the box, in the papers, message boards, you can't escape and I fear that one day the monster will devour itself and implode as constant exposure to the game eventually turns pleasant anticipation into reluctant duty. A diet of rich food soon turns tedious.