Bloody Football

It was probably the biggest day of the year in Manchester today....the final day of the football league, a decider between City and Utd.

I was in town to meet an old friend who was in Manchester for a hen night. Unfortunately, a 4am finish plus sleepy hosts meant that she was gonna be late. This meant plenty of hanging about for the pleasure of watching the throng of footy fans eating Gregg's pasties, singing obscene songs and hiding their drink from the police.

Football was the sport of where I was brought up. Most Protestants supported Hearts and Catholics supporting Hibs, although not always. In my early teenage years I went to loads of Hearts home games and the odd away game, including the fateful 1986 game with Dundee in which the league was lost.

In 1988, I did what may people considered to be the ultimate sin and I became a turncoat. Such occurrences as common as a group of nuns singing the sash in the Copeland Road. I had my reasons which I chose not to share at the time, but don't mind doing so now. Although it's still quite a problem in Glasgow, sectarianism was still a bit of an issue in the East. I was spouting some anti-catholic stuff when my mate Elaine said "I'm a catholic" "I didn't know" I said........and it had a profound effect on me. I realised how ignorant I was being......to prove a point to myself, I became a turncoat.

For a few seasons I followed the Hibees. The sense of belonging to a tribe was often fun.....but not always. I was once gassed at Easter Road by Celtic fans....being a fat git, I struggled to climb the fence so suffered the effects more than most. In vengeance , we went on the rampage only to be chased down by baton wielding police on horses. Another time, our bus was wrecked with us in it in Glasgow.

One day, whilst standing on wet, freezing terracing, probably a Dundee Utd game, I had a thought....."I don't enjoy this game". Fans abusing referees for perfect decisions, and fat men shouting that they had shagged a particular player's wife when they obviously couldn't see their own willies, let alone have the opportunity to use it on a wag. Admittedly, some of the abuse Andy Watson got was justified.

I've only been to a few games since, but they have been abroad....I watched Marseilles a few times when I lived over there and went to see Roma when I was at a mate's wedding in Rome. Now, I struggle to see the difference in the tribalism between say the Hutu and Tutsi and that between opposing football fans......Friendly banter of the tribal sort can easily change!