Emotional attachments running as deep as the Pacific Ocean are written all over the lives of fans and players, football really is all-consuming. A love affair spawned long before the hormones were tugging at the need for human intimacy; the feelings and compulsions associated with club and country over ninety minutes border on obsessive for some and this, like any creature, being or pastime that is so distracting can seriously impact on personal relationships.
The female contingent of the 1 billion or so people interrogated in the recent Twitter study* stand united and very clear in their response: singletons unequivocally want partners to share their passion for football, they also prefer their lover to support a different team; the main reason cited is it ignites even more passion, my oh my. Imagine the neighbour’s soundscape on rival super shagging Sunday. All those living in paper-thin ‘70s builds, beware the blissfully happy young couple wearing different football shirts.
It is estimated that the demographic of football lovers runs approximately 75:35, leaning towards the male, but women have that added emotional Red Bull kick when it comes to their devotion. One girl responded with a romantic report of how her boyfriend supports the same team and they go to all the matches, home and away. The Twitter survey unearthed tales of wives baking cakes with the Manchester United badge on, loving supporters of their husband’s European stadium tours (one Steve Fuller attended ten games in two weeks) and the labour of love parents put into youth football deserves a special golden booted mention. Most couples who work the 9-5 shift generally want to spend their weekends together but don’t always share the same interests. Shopping for one is often hell for the other, as are theatres, garden centres, children’s parties, art galleries or trips to the in-laws. So many anecdotes of a wife’s hatred for football filtered through the male element, I empathised as my mother and I have frequent disagreements about ‘how football takes over my life’. I have no desire to castigate her love of gardening or meaningless trips to the supermarket. I would not interrupt her soap viewing marathons with such rude judgement, she has, after all, been watching Coronation Street since she was seven.
It seems easier to shake off a mother’s criticism than that of a partner, there is almost always an undercurrent of having to take partial responsibility for their state of happiness and the amount of head and heart space football takes up is relentless. Walk into any pub alone and within a few minutes there will be someone willing to debate anything from Joey Barton’s dress sense to Jackie Charlton having a sideline ruck with the linesman at USA ‘94. For me it has always been a glacier-breaking pick axe, for those who are not magnetised by the lure of 22 people kicking a ball around there is little hope of engaging them, unless of course they are an aspiring WAG then a share of £150,000 a week will do the trick.
Along the winding road of this illustrious Twitter study many stories of love and hate were churned up, several men decided the last thing they would want is a football-loving partner, football is theirs, they enjoy owning that time without input or competition. As with anything if obsession negatively impacts on the relationship or wider family there is a valid case that something needs to change. In my experience football has always connected us, I even get to spend the odd evening with my brother going to a lower league match and weekends are invariably taken up by my Dad and I commandeering the television to make the most of an expensive Sky subscription. As is in the game is true in real life, football unites, football divides.
*Terry Whitter, Felicity Fox, Gina Male, A.P Macintosh et al. 2011.
