As the times in football change, and we move into an era where money and commercialism conquers the game we all grew to love and accepted into our hearts, I found myself with a hard decision to make in the middle of 2013. A lot of people complain about modern football and voice their concerns on social networking sites, but with so many opinions being incredibly similar, our views are morphed into a well of monotony and repetition. In reality, not many people act on their words in this country. We take the opportunity to talk, but we don’t follow it up for one reason or another.
NOTTINGHAM FOREST
I have personally been a Nottingham Forest fan since the age of 7 as I got into football relatively late. Not one single member of my family was sporty or had even a remote affiliation/interest in any sport, so naturally my introduction was self-induced as I forced myself to sit through a 5 Live commentary of Leicester City v Everton in my grandparents’ kitchen. I had no idea what was going on, but the matchday ambience in the background and excited voices compelled me to stick with it and keep listening. Following that afternoon, it took me about a year to coalesce with a team. Whilst a Nottingham lad and always keeping a large part of my accent, I’ve been brought up in Leicestershire since the age of 4, and yet Leicester City were never even a consideration.
My mother and I regularly visited Nottingham on Saturdays back in the days when you could get a bus direct from Long Clawson to the city. Occasionally, Mother Upton would be poor in her judgement and we’d be brought to a halt on matchday on Trentside. Traffic hits a standstill as 25,000+ people take to Trent Bridge, weaving in and out of traffic. That was my first exposure to a football crowd, and shortly after I decided Forest were my team. It would still be a couple of years until I went to a game, but once I had, I was sold mind, soul and body to my hometown club. No real logical reason, it just happened. At the time, I had no idea my dad had played for the club at reserve level, in fact a friend of mine got to know before I did, so you can imagine my surprise.
I went to many games, but never away with Forest. Even the home games I visited were alone. Since being able to use my brain productively, I’ve only ever lived in two Leicestershire villages – all choc-a-bloc with Leicester fans and a smattering of Forest, albeit middle-aged men. With nobody to go to games with, I used to sit in Upper Bridgford in the hope that I would find somebody like-minded to go to games with. It sounds sad, but it’s true. The people I spent my time with were scared to venture into Nottingham on a matchday, you could tell from talking to them. Scared of going somewhere different. They were all accustomed to Leicester, the city with just the 3 streets worth walking down. Yawn. Despite this, I still loved going and I still loved my club, nothing changed that and I was certain nothing would. However, once university hit me, so did many other things. I soon realised that I couldn’t afford train fare to Nottingham, let alone a ticket. I think I’ve inherited a family trait of being shocking with money.
As time went by and I entered my second year at university, I was listening to Forest on Forest Player every Saturday without fail which from a practical point-of-view is great because I could do other things while listening. However, you can easily get sucked into this way of following football and I did too, you start to long for games you can’t go to and it was actually quite depressing. Matters were made worse when I allowed myself to fail uni, but I won’t bore people with the details, nobody needs to know about the goings on, there. The biggest issue was that I was literally broke. By now, football was the least of my worries and certainly not a priority. Once you hit a situation like that, it’s best to occupy yourself and find something new…
BOSTON UNITED
Boston United weren’t that ‘something new’ as such. I’d liked them for a long time, granted, not in any kind of depth and I hadn’t spent the hours of research on them like I did with Forest as a young boy, but they were in my head and I looked out for results when possible. My first exposure to the Pilgrims was through the death of my stepdad’s father as morbid as that sounds. I spent a lot of time going to and from Boston when I was about 11 or 12 years old, clearing out his house. We (my parents included) would go into the town to the chippy if it was a late one so I caught a glimpse of the town. At the time, it felt like something new and different. On one of my final visits to Boston, my stepdad made a point of going past York Street. When I was a kid, it didn’t matter which town or city we passed through or visited, we would always stop by the football ground for my sake.
I never went into York Street, but we drove past it, that’s as much as I know. So god knows what attracted me to the club, I really don’t know, but as soon as I’d had enough of ticket prices at Forest and I’d educated myself sufficiently to realise the direction football was going, particularly at Premier League and Championship level, Boston were my first choice.
The idea of submitting myself to watching the Premier League or Bundesliga on online streams seemed incredibly dull and far too many people do it these days. Non-league always intrigued me and it’s one of those things that Premier League armchair enthusiasts can’t grasp, they don’t get it.
The day I first introduced myself to non-league football, and Boston United properly, I didn’t actually plan it. One day I was scanning through Stafford Rangers’ fixtures (I’d stayed in Stafford following my premature exit from university) and to my delight, they were facing Boston within a week in the FA Cup. I won’t lie, a massive grin came across my face and I may have said “FUCKING YES” out loud to myself. I was itching to go. It broke me for a short while as I had no money at the time, but I really didn’t give a toss. It beat staying in watching a poor quality stream on the laptop, being distracted by other pointless things. Since that day, I allowed myself to be absorbed into the non-league atmosphere and mindset.
If you want to feel a part of something, non-league is the way to go. Not one person can tell me that they can feel a stronger connection to a club they watch on TV than I do when I watch Boston. Sorry, but you can’t be serious. Within two games I had started making friends with Boston fans and building up a network of friends from across the country who also supported Boston. Everywhere from Basingstoke to Nottingham, to me in Stafford. We’re well spread! Once you’re singing for a whole 90 minutes at cramped little village grounds like Brackley, with people of a similar age and a passion for the game to yourself, you begin to find yourself a bit. Or I did, anyway. I sat at Forest in those plastic red seats for years upon years. Not once did I feel comfortable enough to speak to anyone and make links. With Boston, stood on terraces, it took me 5 minutes. In fact, I wasn’t even in the ground and I was talking to people.
I do understand people who change clubs and there are valid reasons. I still class Forest as a club of mine, so I’ve not swapped clubs as such. Although, I honestly doubt I’ll make a conceited effort to go again and watch Forest regularly, as I’ve run out of patience and understanding for that level of football. I want Forest to do well, and I always will do. But the day they win promotion to the Premier League, my level of happiness will be matched by an overwhelming sense of dread and contempt for the new fans emanating from the woodwork and the predictable change in attitude of existing fans. I don’t wish for my money to go into a machine that doesn’t care about me, and to a place I can’t enjoy football to its full potential. Championship play-off semi: Forest v QPR or Skrill North play-off semi: Boston v Solihull? I’d pick the latter every time.
I accept that not one single club cares one iota about you, the individual fan. I also understand it’s not possible from a club’s perspective either, but at least at Conference North level the fans care about each other and are approachable. At least I can go to a game and stand with people I know and will see time and time again. At least I can’t be told to sit down every 5 minutes by a jobsworth, obese steward with the face of a battered bulldog. I made my decision based upon strong beliefs and an equally strong desire to try something new. I’m glad I did and I can already tell I won’t need to rethink my decision or go back on it. I’ve found my level and it’s not on TV, nor is it born from a desire to be drastically different and hipster or indeed fashionable. It certainly isn’t born from a desire for glory or my disappointment at how Forest are doing either, as if you were a Forest fan you couldn’t complain about current affairs from a performance or results perspective.
Thanks for reading.
Nick
Under The Floodlights 