Football

Something struck me this week when I was urging on Leeds to equalise on Wednesday night, a night after I was shouting on Crystal Palace in their FA Cup Replay. I have become a football tart. I am supporting teams all over the place. This is how it happens - if I find out someone I like genuinely supports a team with their heart and soul, I feel compelled to join in: to follow their team, to feel happy when they win and a bit sad when they lose, to know the team 'narrative' (ie what supporters believe will inevitably happen in various scenarios), to work out which other teams need to win and lose in order to help the progression of their team ... need I go on? This is a kind of madness, a strange kind of stalking in the friendliest of senses, an utterly exhausting form of adoption. And in addition to this I inevitably collect teams from places I've lived - it's impossible not to feel a little fond of a team when their injury scares occupy the back pages of the local paper and their shirt is regularly seen on public transport. But there's only so much healthy time that should be spent checking the scores and the tables ... and I am definitely doing overtime.


Arsenal, West Ham, Everton, Crystal Palace, Nottingham Forest, Leicester, Leeds, Brighton, Bristol Rovers, Dagenham & Redbridge, Rushden & Diamonds, & Hastings.


That's a full-time job isn't it ?


But then I realised what this was all about.

Winter is LONG.
 
Being a Sussex fan who doesn't live in Brighton means that much of my supporting is done via Desktop Scoreboard, Ceefax and texts from Hove. My summers are punctuated by regular score updates and I have become conditioned to need - perhaps even to crave - a year long diet of updated score-lines.

I am addicted to scores.

It's as simple as that. That's why I drop football teams as soon as the cricket season starts and why my peak 'foster a football club' season is during the cold winter months. I'm not mad ... all I am doing is trying to find my substitute hit.