I was lucky enough to find myself at Nethermoor, the home of Guiseley AFC. It was a Saturday afternoon in early October, where the temperature was beginning to drop in preparation for winter, and the atmosphere in the small ground was one of excitement and growing anticipation. The pitch was in an immaculate condition, the players were cleanly striking leather as their warm up begun and supporters were tucking into hot dogs and warm, crunchy pies. Everyone’s pre-match build up was under way. The match officials were side stepping down the touchlines in preparation for their inevitable abuse that will be hurled upon them by fans, so they can quickly dash out of hearing distance of any certain supporters who may disagree with their decision.
This crowd of unique football fans are gathering in this stadium for the FA Cup 3rd qualifying round tie between Guiseley and Whitley Bay. The match itself was very one sided as Guiseley dominated their opponents in a 3-0 victory to progress to the next qualifying round where they were one victory away from the 1st round proper. The attendance was an impressive 704 and I’m sad to say that these 704 have all got an increasingly unique idea when it comes to supporting a football team. Most of Guiseley’s supporters are likely to support one of the local league teams such as Leeds United or Bradford City. These fans have chosen to go to Guiseley for a reason.
Each Saturday afternoon that your home side is playing is a wonderful day for every home fan. There is that feeling of mystery and excitement when travelling to the game because you know that you have no idea what is about to happen. The nerves and the anxiety that had been created through dedication to your club is a feeling like no other. You are worried about what might happen. You fear the worse could happen but deep down, you also dream of a 10-0 home victory where your favourite player scores a double hat-trick. Some greater fantasists still believe that there’s still a chance of playing when they look at themselves in the mirror with their replica shirt. Despite the fact that the average football fan is likely to be middle-aged, fat and bald. You and hundreds or thousands of others are all experiencing these feelings with you at the same time and when the whistle blows at 3 o’clock, you are part of something that is truly magnificent.
If the opposition scores, there are moans and groans of despair but at the same time, those true supporters do everything they can to cheer own their team and encourage them to give you that feeling of when you score. There is no better feeling for a fan when your team scores. That moment when the ball ripples the back of the net creates bedlam. Who you are doesn’t matter because you and the thousands of your fellow supporters are all equal in joyous celebration of your team’s goal. Strangers will happily embrace and somewhere a bald man’s head will be peppered with kisses. You will happily dance like a raving lunatic when the goal music starts playing and whatever worries that you’ve had during the week are forgotten in this short moment of ecstatic elation. It’s the most salubrious feeling for any fan and when they can’t watch their team on a Saturday, the next best thing to do would be to get a small taste of that feeling at one of your other local sides. For Bradford and Leeds fans, Guiseley is the next best thing for them so they can experience this feeling of belonging to something. It’s like a drug and to get a small piece of this sensation, you need to satisfy your desire for this drug in any way possible. When the final whistle blows and your side is victorious, you feel as though you are top of the world and anything is possible. It’s only possible to experience these emotions as a fan when you’ve witnessed it yourself in the stadium, which nowadays have become cauldrons of noise and nausea. In defeat you must be reflective and believe that next time, you’ll be victorious.
One day last year stands out in my mind and I remember what happened very clearly. It was the 21st November 2009 and I was going to Bradford City v Accrington Stanley at Valley Parade. I have been a season ticket holder since 1999 and in that time, I have developed a tremendous passion for my team and I have remained loyal to them throughout my life. I was experiencing all the regular emotions that you feel before the game. The game itself would be boring to any neutral but both sets of fans were completely engrossed as the game kicked off. Bradford took the lead in the first half through an own goal but Accrington equalised late in the second half. The last 5 minutes then became the most excruciating that I had ever watched. We managed to get a late penalty and you feel ecstatic. You’ve got a chance to win the game but then unbelievable nerves take over and the outcome of this kick of a ball, feels like the difference between life and death. The Referee blows his whistle, the crowd holds its breath and time slows down. The penalty taker, Gareth Evans, will be a hero or a villain. He steps up and slices his spot kick into the stands. The utter despair of all around me is unbelievable. Some fans throw themselves about in anger and disgust whilst looking for something to smash, while others are left motionless and in state of total disbelief. They are convinced that they what they have just seen, is in fact the worst case scenario that they have imagined in their head.
At this point, you feel as though it’s finished and that your emotions can no longer be toyed with anymore but suddenly there’s a chance. Bradford striker Michael Boulding has turned his defender on the edge of the box and is about to shoot on goal. You feel the same emotions you felt when you were awarded a penalty but this time you’re certain. He will shoot and he will score. He shoots but his shot hits the post and goes out. The Referee blows his whistle. Now it’s all over. The rollercoaster of emotions have come to an end. My body couldn’t have taken any more. It would have spontaneously combusted but now that it’s finally over with the scores at 1-1, I’m devastated, completely inconsolable and I’m left discombobulated. It’s time for reflection.
The beverage of reflection has a certain sour taste at first but begins to taste sweeter as you reflect more on what’s just happened. A truly remarkable conclusion to a game of football and I have experienced the extreme emotions of being a football fan. I’ve now left reflection and entered the distraction phase after a game like that. There’s no better tonic than another game of football! Manchester United are playing Everton in the evening kick off, live on TV in the pub. We are currently still in the middle of Bradford and my attention was drawn to man in his late 40s that has just entered the pub. He has a strong Bradford accent but had not been at today’s game. He bought a pint, sat down and began to watch the game. He was clearly rooting for Manchester United and didn’t appear to have any connection with the Manchester club or its roots. He was what’s commonly known as a glory supporter. When they scored the first goal, his reaction was not one of a passionate fan at all. It was more like a man applauding the quality of the goal itself and it left me wondering how? How can he feel any passion for them at all and after what I’ve just been through today as fan, it made me truly glad to support Bradford City. This man will never feel the emotion that the average passionate season ticket holder feels every home game.
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