The one detail that I missed due to my excitement was that the seat would not be the usual seat....
On match day I headed down to the stadium looking forward to seeing a few familiar faces and enjoying my first match of the season but as I climbed higher and higher up in the stands the ‘small detail’ regarding the seat came back to me. My excitement almost immediately turned to dread.
Despite being a sports lover, it has taken me 9 years to muster up the courage to go to a Premier League football match – quite simply because I know that not all football fans are created equally. The same atmosphere that I love can also be incredibly intimidating. However, I was inside and figured I’d face my fear and make the most of it.
After locating my seat my dread evolved from discomfort into an acute awareness of my surroundings. I was the only chick in that section – as a matter of fact I was probably the only black chick on her own in the entire stadium’ (let alone the section or the stand). Everyone around was emotionally invested in the game but they just sounded angry. I was sitting next to a fat so-and-so who insisted on calling the referee a fat so-and-so. Every time Anelka, Essien, Sturridge or Kakuta went to touch the ball I was silently praying that didn’t stuff it up in case any of the fans wanted to make their jeers a little more colourful. It is absolutely laughable that I felt that way – but I did.
After holding my breath for most of the first half, I grabbed my bag at the buzzer and left the stadium feeling nothing but relief upon exiting.
The further I got away from the stadium, the calmer I became and my mind reflected back to Paul Canoville’s autobiography ‘Black and Blue’. That’s when the penny dropped and his contribution to football became tangible – personal even.
My experience is in no way comparable to the experiences of Paul Canoville and other pioneers – but it provided me with a snapshot of the passion, conviction and self belief that was required for them to play football during the 70s and 80s.
This blogpost is a special thank you to Tony Whelan, Brendan Batson, Howard Gayle and Paul Canoville for not walking out at half time.
We've come along way from the days when John Barnes used to get banana skins thrown at him, but football grounds are still incredibly intimidating places for black people. Thank God we don't live in Italy or Spain!
ReplyDeleteVery poignant... What would it take to ensure that we were all comfortable enough to make it past half-time?
ReplyDelete'What would it take to ensure that we were all comfortable enough to make it past half-time?' That's a very good question - so good, I'm not sure I have the answer for it. I suppose the main thing we need to make it past halftime is a genuine desire. I don't think self belief is even enough to make it past half-time. But once you've found something that fires you up, you can find the resolve to block out any negativity surrounding your involvement in it. That's what I think anyway.
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