Too late for Relate

5 02 2009

A few hours after last night’s FA Cup televisual feast I felt nothing. As someone with a keen interest in the fortunes of Liverpool Football Club this may seem odd; Liverpool were knocked out of the Cup by Everton but there is a void where there is usually some kind of regret.

An inconsequential detail from last night forced this attitude. On Facebook an Everton “fan” of my acquaintance posted some irritating drivel. The tone indicated that he views himself as a sort of super fan. He may go to a few games and he might buy the shirts but he also seems to be following the Ladybird book “How to be an Evertonian” word for word. In other words;  hate thine “enemy”

Despite hailing from the Western Suburb of Liverpool called Llandudno and having a lot of Liverpool fans as friends all “Kopites are Gobshites”. Despite having been barely old enough to have witnessed the Heysel Disaster all Liverpool fans are “murderers”. No message board cliche is left untyped.

That’s it!! I can’t go on sharing an interest with these off-the-peg attitude wearers. It’s time to admit something; I have fallen out of love with the Premier League. As much as I used to love phoning up David Mellor to complain about matches I’d watched on teletext but that was then, I can’t go on living a lie.

I started to delude myself that my feeling hadn’t changed. I’d record Match of the Day on Saturday and then get up early on Sunday to watch the repeat on TV, then I’d watch MOTD 2 as well. Most Sundays  I’d also go down the pub to watch the “footy” too ’cause you couldn’t beat the atmosphere. For the rest of the week I’d scour the internet for discussion with “muppets” and “numpties” and “Scum” just to feel part of it. I just wanted to remain part of it all.

It got so bad that I tried to kid myself into thinking it wasn’t over by involving myself in arguments in the pub whilst watching the “footy”;

 “How many tea cups have you won, eh?”;

– “Yeah but when was the last time you won the Texaco Cup, eh?”

Oh aye, come back when you’ve won the Littlewoods Cup 10 times!!” 

– “Yeah, how much debt is your club in eh?”

I’d read all of the tabloids just so I’d have some opinions on the big issues. The cost of buying them was worth it when I could recount an obscure fact that that I’d read that morning, seeing everybody enraptured by my words.It made me feel wanted.

Then I finally realised I was merely papering over the cracks. I began to avoid my gaze in the mirror. I was dying from the inside but I still couldn’t admit it to myself. Then the final straw……. Lovejoy, that despicable twat Lovejoy, on 606. I just couldn’t live a lie anymore.

Anyway I’ll make it through to the other side, I’m a survivor.

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