Giving men the red card

So, when I asked recently for ideas of what people would like to see from my blog, what was the overwhelming response from men? Football, of course.

Growing up with a Dad who wasn’t really all that fussed about football, I had always also managed to date men who weren’t too bothered about the sport either. A lucky escape I felt. However, on meeting my current boyfriend – and after six years of being together – I have had to face the experience of being with a football fanatic. A die hard Hammers fan since he was old enough to understand the game, my boyfriend had been to most of the team’s home games and a lot of away games too. He was a season ticket holder and has numerous kits and West Ham merchandise.

In fact, when we first met one another I decided to make a real effort and actually bought a West Ham shirt and went to a few games (some of which were even all the way in Manchester!) Since then and various circumstances changing, my boyfriend actually no longer has a season ticket (wait for all the hate mail from that one, I promise it wasn’t just down to me that he got rid of it).

I guess in that sense I have once again been lucky as I’m with someone who understands the importance of different aspects in life and isn’t so obsessed with football that he would refuse to give up his season ticket for instance. Of course though there are lot of men out there who are like that and often put the sport first.

What is it about this game that takes men in such a firm grasp and holds their attention for so long? You know what men are like if you try to get them to concentrate on plans you have, but yet if they are faced with anything featuring their favourite team they can concentrate for hours on end.

Opinions are another thing, talk to a man about something that happened at work or a story you read on your commute and you might get a few grunts in response. You find out a new player is being signed or a football match is on and the referee makes a questionable decision, well just sit back and watch what happens then. Oh how the opinions flow…If you come across the so-called ‘glory hunters’ then just watch the sparks fly – people in London who support teams like Liverpool, or Chelsea fans who have never actually been to a game, oh dear…

Admittedly when I went to some actual games I did get caught up in the spirit and enjoyed it, but watching a match on television bores me to death. What is this fascination with a few men kicking a ball around a field? After all realistically that’s what this is.

Don’t even get me started on how much they get paid; it infuriates me when you see people who do jobs that actually make a real difference to the world getting paid a pittance. Yet you see a well-dressed, over-gelled hairstyled young man who can kick a ball and likes to sleep around and that warrants a ridiculously high salary to keep them stocked up with sports cars, endless champagne and designer clobber.

If you’ve ever been to a game you’ll know the transformation men go through when watching their team play – even the most mild mannered non-swearer will turn into a foul mouthed angry yob-like individual. The words that come out of my boyfriend’s mouth when he’s at a match (and that’s just when I’m there) are disgusting. Now, I’m not a pure mouthed angel, don’t get me wrong, but some of the things people say – and often in front of young children – are awful.

I know of some men who want silence when they’re watching a game, or those that have to watch all the pre match and post match analysis and then do their own commentary as well. Not only do some of us ladies lose our man every Saturday to a game, we then have to deal with them switching on the TV later on in the evening to rewatch it all on Match of the Day!

So, sorry guys, but I just don’t get this obsession. Who knows maybe this is a gender thing and your football fantasy is the equivalent to our clothes purchasing pleasures. All I know is the most interesting football match I’ve ever seen was one back in my Uni days in the student union pub after many a glass of wine…well I had to get through it somehow!