I have been to one football match in my life. Back in the late seventies, when I supported Leeds United (due to my Yorkshire roots; when I got a bit older I switched allegiance to the team I was born closest to, York City), my mum and dad took me to Bristol City (who were then unbelievably in the top flight) to see my white-clad heroes play. My cautious parents made me wear my tiny Leeds United badge under my coat, in case any Bristol based football hooligans decided to beat up a tiny child who had the audacity to support a different team to them.
The game was a 2-2 draw and Leeds were quite lucky to get that. I remained unscathed, but obviously wasn't that impressed as I never tried to go to a match again.
Back then I was slightly interested in football and I had a subscription to Shoot magazine and put pictures of footballers on my wall. I spent many hours played Subbuteo against myself, involving complicated leagues and cups which miraculously Leeds United (and then later York City) always managed to win. I always really liked an early computer game called "Football Manager", but it was very statistics based and when you "watched" the games, you were only informed of your team's progress because the score would change... there may have been a sound effect.
I wasn't a very good football player and I have a feeling my interest in the real game was only there because I thought that was what was expected of me. Or maybe it was a more statistical based interest (as my Subbuteo and Football Manager experiences suggest). Possibly it was fuelled by a slight homo-erotic interest in Billy Bremner.
Although I follow York's progress on Ceefax these days (which is rather like playing "Football Manager" without the input in terms of team selection) and will get quite into the World Cup when it's on, I am not one of those men who is obsessed with the game. If I had a girlfriend she wouldn't be annoyed by me watching sport on telly when she wanted to watch soaps, or talk or kiss or whatever it is that women like to do. I'm not that bothered. Instead she's be annoyed by the fact that I have no idea what women want or are interested in.
But now I am in Shepherd's Bush I am within easy walking distance of a major football ground (home to QPR and this season Fulham as well). It would be very easy to pop along and see if I can rekindle the slight interest in the game that I had as a child. I must say that it all sounds very exciting. When I am up in the converted attic, where I work, I can hear the sounds from the crowd wafting through the air. The first time I noticed this it was quite scary, as the fans do make some peculiar and amazingly loud noises. A collective "aaah" of exasperation at a near miss is a strange sound to hear from a distance.
Fulham were playing Man United as I was working yesterday and I didn't have to be in the ground to know that two goals were scored in the match. Of course I was unable to tell if the score was 2-0, 1-1 or 0-2, so I can't really consider that I'd managed to witness the game for free, but a quick glance at the BBC website showed me that Manchester scored first, before Fulham equalised. Thinking about it the second roar was louder, which would probably suggest a home goal, so with practice I might be able to work out the scores from the matches without having to look at the internet.
If I supported Fulham or QPR it would make my Ceefax based viewing of their games a lot more exciting.
Hearing the noises of the crowd and the passion in their massed voices did make me wonder if I should give the game another try as a spectator. It would be very easy to pop along on a Saturday and I might suddenly understand what it is that makes thousands of men want to sit in the cold and look at some fitter men kicking a ball of air around.
My heart tells me to go. It flutters and leaps at the noise from a mile or so away. Presumably to be amongst those voices would be even more exhilirating.
