“Football isn’t a matter of life and death…it’s much more important than that”. – Bill Shankly
To many, this quote typifies the passion and the extremes we, as a nation go through on a weekly basis to root for our respective teams. The quote captures the emotions that football fans feel ever Saturday at 5. Between the months of August and May, we live on every game, we discuss the ins and outs of the team, the manager, the ownership, everything. In this country, football is the be all and end all.
My buddy Mark however, an avid football fan himself says the quote exaggerates the countries passion for the sport, and although the sport is a big deal, to take it to the level of “life and death” creates the wrong impression to people that football is more an obsession than a hobby.
In all honesty, he’s right to some degree, especially nowadays where newspapers, websites, radio are all pumped by constant steroidal sports hyperbole. Every little detail of every game is scrutinised, and that’s not just football, it’s across sports. It’s how I imagine being in “Big Brother” must of felt like, knowing nothing you do will go unnoticed, that cameras are everywhere, there are radio stations fully dedicated to sport, it’s a multi-billion pound industry. The biggest thing on the planet. and Football’s the king of it.
The age of 5 is when the gates first opened for me, when I first jumped on the emotional rollercoaster that is Oxford United. Over the ensuing years, the ups and downs of following a team didn’t seem to have a lot of up’s. The team went down like a slalom and kept falling and falling and falling (you get the point).
Like an alcoholic, or drug addict, there’s always a moment where you hit rock-bottom. A moment where it can’t get any worse, where it’s got so bad, the only way is up. For Oxford that came on May 6th 2006, or as it will be known “the day I had my sports epiphany”. On this day, a home game to Leyton Orient. The situation was clear.
Win – Stay in the football League.
Lose – Off the coupon, off the radar, into the doldrums.
Like every “make or break” game, it flowed like a film. The early start where we’re all happy and optimistic (taking a 1-0 lead) yet still shaking like Amy Winehouse in need of a quick fix. The fear was justified as Oxford went on to lose the game.
Have you ever experienced a moment where you and everyone around you falls silent? Where you go from being stricken with nerves to completely numb and ill of feeling? Momentarily you think you are stood by yourself, and it all hits you? This could be the worst moment of your life so far. Every fan of a lower league football teams worst fear is falling out the football league, so when it happens, how do you react? I felt like Stanley did in “Holes” when he first gets to the camp, alone, and in a state of disbelief, pondering how, just how it happened. You start thinking if. “If we won this game”, “if we didn’t concede that late goal”. To this day, my buddy Lewis still feels the need to remind me of Jon Ashton conceding a late penalty at Stockport, subsequently losing the game and Stockport surviving at our expense. That moment was the dagger in our coffin. Ashton, would’ve been expected to receive Bill Buckner treatment, but no, what’s the point? He didn’t give the penalty away on purpose, he was a clumsy player, a solid player who had an innate condition to have moments of completely erratic defending.
But as the days passed, positivity trickled its way back into the fray. The sun still raised and the sun still set. This is when I began thinking “something good will happen one day, we’re are just dealing with the suffering now, and eventually the tables will turn”.
If that’s the death, the life for me happened May 16th of 2010, after being in the said “doldrums” for 4 years, choking in the playoffs once, being thwarted by a points deduction and a year of being a certifiable joke, we finally (and I emphasise finally) had a 1 game playoff to get back to where needed to be. Financially we needed the added revenue from playing the better supported teams in the league above. Our pride needed to get back, no more did we want the snide remarks from Swindon fans, knowing they have ability to throw the “non-league” card in at any point, and their being no response.
Rivalry’s are the pinnacle of sports, but when you’re the least successful side in the rivalry they become less enjoyable, clutching to a good result in the past, which we will do. Resorting to a more glamorous past, which we will. But the embers of a rivalry will burn out if you can’t keep within touching distance of your rival.
Back to the final mission, this to Oxford, was like Rocky’s revenge at Clubber Lang, or Rocky’s revenge at Ivan Drago or Rocky’s revenge at Apollo Creed. It was the final chapter like all of them respective films, the future remains bleak if they lost the game, but the avenues of possibility and ambition open with a win.
Oxford won the game 3-1, THREE FUCKING ONE, two early goals sent me and 10’s of thousands around me into euphoria, like I just slipped into the twilight (not the shit vampire film) zone. Obviously it wasn't over yet. It wouldn’t be sport if it was easy. It your head isn’t filled with doubt and scepticism, you won’t feel the full effect of relief and bliss when you reach your “Everest”. In this instance, we managed to succumb to our disequilibrium by conceding a gal on the stroke of half time. You know the sound when someone tells an offensive joke that isn’t well received or when a young child falls down. That sound, “huuuuuuuuuh” that gasp, the instantaneous response when something shocking happens.
The third Oxford goal, “the clincher” as it will be known will live long in my memory, I can recall the commentary like it was a parable from the Bible. Here it is :
“Potter…to Deering……….back to Potter…(ball goes in the net)..OXFORD UNITED ARE BACK IN THE FOOTBALL LEAGUE”.
That right there, created goossebumps on my goosebumps goosebumps. There are few moments in life that you could describe as priceless, this was one. All season you felt something special was happening, but you don’t want to believe in case they let us down again. You keep your spirits down, until that moment when it you finally can go crazy. Like that scene in Scrubs when Carla finally accepts Turk’s proposal, this had the same emotion, that relief, that joy, we know it was always a possibility, but until it was official there was still doubt creeping in our minds.
When that third goal went in, the emotion, the atmosphere... you know what, see it for yourself.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1fvMtHhhr5I&feature=related ( I now think I’ve watched this goal about 347,000 times)
That reaction, that celebration. That’s what a concoction of joy and relief is. That is what it looks like when you finally escape. It’s how Andy Dusfresne felt when he got out of jail in the “Shawshank Redemption” It’s how I felt at that moment.
It’s how a lot of people felt, the next few weeks every time I saw one of my friends, they would say, let’s watch “the Wembley goals”. My Dad was always re-watching them as well, and when I pointed out how many times he’s watched them over about 2 weeks later, his reply summarised the whole point of this article. “There timeless” Moments like that are timeless, moments like that are what you will talk about in the pub in 30 years. Moments like that are why we devote our time to our teams, why we pay hard earned money, because every now and then, they make it worth our while, and give us our fix we wanted, a fix that keeps us addicted and coming back for more.
To many, this quote typifies the passion and the extremes we, as a nation go through on a weekly basis to root for our respective teams. The quote captures the emotions that football fans feel ever Saturday at 5. Between the months of August and May, we live on every game, we discuss the ins and outs of the team, the manager, the ownership, everything. In this country, football is the be all and end all.
My buddy Mark however, an avid football fan himself says the quote exaggerates the countries passion for the sport, and although the sport is a big deal, to take it to the level of “life and death” creates the wrong impression to people that football is more an obsession than a hobby.
In all honesty, he’s right to some degree, especially nowadays where newspapers, websites, radio are all pumped by constant steroidal sports hyperbole. Every little detail of every game is scrutinised, and that’s not just football, it’s across sports. It’s how I imagine being in “Big Brother” must of felt like, knowing nothing you do will go unnoticed, that cameras are everywhere, there are radio stations fully dedicated to sport, it’s a multi-billion pound industry. The biggest thing on the planet. and Football’s the king of it.
The age of 5 is when the gates first opened for me, when I first jumped on the emotional rollercoaster that is Oxford United. Over the ensuing years, the ups and downs of following a team didn’t seem to have a lot of up’s. The team went down like a slalom and kept falling and falling and falling (you get the point).
Like an alcoholic, or drug addict, there’s always a moment where you hit rock-bottom. A moment where it can’t get any worse, where it’s got so bad, the only way is up. For Oxford that came on May 6th 2006, or as it will be known “the day I had my sports epiphany”. On this day, a home game to Leyton Orient. The situation was clear.
Win – Stay in the football League.
Lose – Off the coupon, off the radar, into the doldrums.
Like every “make or break” game, it flowed like a film. The early start where we’re all happy and optimistic (taking a 1-0 lead) yet still shaking like Amy Winehouse in need of a quick fix. The fear was justified as Oxford went on to lose the game.
Have you ever experienced a moment where you and everyone around you falls silent? Where you go from being stricken with nerves to completely numb and ill of feeling? Momentarily you think you are stood by yourself, and it all hits you? This could be the worst moment of your life so far. Every fan of a lower league football teams worst fear is falling out the football league, so when it happens, how do you react? I felt like Stanley did in “Holes” when he first gets to the camp, alone, and in a state of disbelief, pondering how, just how it happened. You start thinking if. “If we won this game”, “if we didn’t concede that late goal”. To this day, my buddy Lewis still feels the need to remind me of Jon Ashton conceding a late penalty at Stockport, subsequently losing the game and Stockport surviving at our expense. That moment was the dagger in our coffin. Ashton, would’ve been expected to receive Bill Buckner treatment, but no, what’s the point? He didn’t give the penalty away on purpose, he was a clumsy player, a solid player who had an innate condition to have moments of completely erratic defending.
But as the days passed, positivity trickled its way back into the fray. The sun still raised and the sun still set. This is when I began thinking “something good will happen one day, we’re are just dealing with the suffering now, and eventually the tables will turn”.
If that’s the death, the life for me happened May 16th of 2010, after being in the said “doldrums” for 4 years, choking in the playoffs once, being thwarted by a points deduction and a year of being a certifiable joke, we finally (and I emphasise finally) had a 1 game playoff to get back to where needed to be. Financially we needed the added revenue from playing the better supported teams in the league above. Our pride needed to get back, no more did we want the snide remarks from Swindon fans, knowing they have ability to throw the “non-league” card in at any point, and their being no response.
Rivalry’s are the pinnacle of sports, but when you’re the least successful side in the rivalry they become less enjoyable, clutching to a good result in the past, which we will do. Resorting to a more glamorous past, which we will. But the embers of a rivalry will burn out if you can’t keep within touching distance of your rival.
Back to the final mission, this to Oxford, was like Rocky’s revenge at Clubber Lang, or Rocky’s revenge at Ivan Drago or Rocky’s revenge at Apollo Creed. It was the final chapter like all of them respective films, the future remains bleak if they lost the game, but the avenues of possibility and ambition open with a win.
Oxford won the game 3-1, THREE FUCKING ONE, two early goals sent me and 10’s of thousands around me into euphoria, like I just slipped into the twilight (not the shit vampire film) zone. Obviously it wasn't over yet. It wouldn’t be sport if it was easy. It your head isn’t filled with doubt and scepticism, you won’t feel the full effect of relief and bliss when you reach your “Everest”. In this instance, we managed to succumb to our disequilibrium by conceding a gal on the stroke of half time. You know the sound when someone tells an offensive joke that isn’t well received or when a young child falls down. That sound, “huuuuuuuuuh” that gasp, the instantaneous response when something shocking happens.
The third Oxford goal, “the clincher” as it will be known will live long in my memory, I can recall the commentary like it was a parable from the Bible. Here it is :
“Potter…to Deering……….back to Potter…(ball goes in the net)..OXFORD UNITED ARE BACK IN THE FOOTBALL LEAGUE”.
That right there, created goossebumps on my goosebumps goosebumps. There are few moments in life that you could describe as priceless, this was one. All season you felt something special was happening, but you don’t want to believe in case they let us down again. You keep your spirits down, until that moment when it you finally can go crazy. Like that scene in Scrubs when Carla finally accepts Turk’s proposal, this had the same emotion, that relief, that joy, we know it was always a possibility, but until it was official there was still doubt creeping in our minds.
When that third goal went in, the emotion, the atmosphere... you know what, see it for yourself.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1fvMtHhhr5I&feature=related ( I now think I’ve watched this goal about 347,000 times)
That reaction, that celebration. That’s what a concoction of joy and relief is. That is what it looks like when you finally escape. It’s how Andy Dusfresne felt when he got out of jail in the “Shawshank Redemption” It’s how I felt at that moment.
It’s how a lot of people felt, the next few weeks every time I saw one of my friends, they would say, let’s watch “the Wembley goals”. My Dad was always re-watching them as well, and when I pointed out how many times he’s watched them over about 2 weeks later, his reply summarised the whole point of this article. “There timeless” Moments like that are timeless, moments like that are what you will talk about in the pub in 30 years. Moments like that are why we devote our time to our teams, why we pay hard earned money, because every now and then, they make it worth our while, and give us our fix we wanted, a fix that keeps us addicted and coming back for more.
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