I am probably what would be known (in barbed terms by many people) as a fair-weather fan. The connection between my football team and me is a couple of teenage years when frankly there was little else on a Saturday afternoon. Since then I have seen few games, occasional derby’s against mates teams or important (and heart-breaking) games. After all, if you only really get behind your team if they are successful, then supporting Barnet is a bit of a fools errand.
At least it was until this season. All season I have said I intend to go and see a few games, but I was distracted by a dissertation and the drinks that followed. However much to my delight out of the corner of my eye I noted that my team was top of their league. And winning pretty much all the time. I really started to look forward to going to see them.
It is just that if you are not a regular football watcher, the discipline keeping Saturday afternoon free requires turns out to be really rather difficult. Last time I did it I was scuppered by a late party the night before. All the home games seem to coincide with the days I am out of London. And suddenly another spectre has raised its head.
Maybe they won’t do well when I go. According to Batman, criminals are a superstitious folk. Add sports fans to that one please (and of course sports stars). Our winning streak has run for almost three months now. All without my support. I have a pretty bad run in seeing them win anyway, what if my bad luck rubbed off on them.
All of which is supposed to be some sort of pointless self justification as to why I have not seen my team in the season they most deserve it.