THE GOOD, THE BAD AND THE UGLY
by Jim Davies
I should be writing about how a team overcame the odds against higher placed opposition to make it through to the next round of a prestigious cup competition. Or about how a team travelled away from home with 11 men, and even though they were beaten, still put up a fight and gave it their all. Or maybe how a group of lads played their hearts out on a cold Saturday or Sunday morning, enjoying every minute even though it cost them money to play.
HOW GRASSROOTS FOOTBALL IS CHANGING
But I'm not going to write about that. The story I'm going to tell you is completely different and paints a picture of a modern amateur game that I never thought I would have to testify to. Granted this isn't a story that every team will identify with but after garnering opinion and doing my research it is a one that will resound with many people involved at local level today. I can muster numerous words and passages about the results and scorers. The facts of who did what.
But I cannot put into words how much I love the grass-roots game, and the passion and utter joy I feel watching my own team and listening to others talk about theirs. It’s a passion deeply instilled in my psyche by a father who has lived and breathed the game himself since his teens. An infectious involvement that will never abate or see my enthusiasm dampened. That’s why it pains me to see some of the things going on in our beautiful game on a local level over the past few years.
It’s a sad indictment on the modern local amateur game when the most enthusiastic conversations one has are about teams from yesteryear. Teams that inspired a generation and certainly inspired me as a boy. You only have to look at the demise of local clubs teams that had been around since the 1930's. Leagues are having to merge or downsize just to continue and this doesn't necessarily help matters.
The over-the-hill mob have now taken precedence over the open-age players, with their partying days over they are getting fitter again leaving the young upstarts stood shivering outside the local nightclub at 5am.
Finance appears to be one of the main factors for the decline. Returning to a pub after the game to collect subs, sell tickets and go around with a spot-the-ball are one of the main methods a club has of raising funds and with the local economy in such a state these places are becoming fewer by the week which means no base to run from, and no sponsor.
Also most lads are in too much of a rush to get home and clean their Fendi trainers and iron the Cavalli jeans, with the boots left caked in mud until the following week. There is also the cost of turning up and playing with it costing at least £10 as a club member to attend a game. Subs, Petrol and Kit cost mean lads have to pay to play and with unemployment on the rise some people may not have this to give on a weekly basis.
Also on the radar is the lack of interest from young players and the attitude of those willing to have a go. Many younger players have too transient an attitude. Partying and staying out all night has a different slant to what it had in the 80's. It's not just a case of having a hangover from a few pints anymore and this is having a detrimental effect on the game.
Lads no longer return home after ‘closing’ at 2 in the morning, they can still be found in clubs at 5 or 6 am and the chances of them making it to an 11 O Clock kick off on a cold Sunday morning ready to do battle are slim to none. They will either be wrestling a duvet or in McDonalds ready for a carb overload and an afternoon siesta followed by a roast dinner off their Mam. Where would most of them sooner be on a Saturday or Sunday morning? The lure of a fat fry-up and a chuckle watching Soccer AM is far greater to some than the offer of a 90 minute work-out with the added risk of getting hurt thrown into the mix.
Me, I never played. I couldn't kick a ball down a steep hill. Nevertheless I'll fulfil every other role needed to make the wheels turn. I'll wash the balls, put up the nets, collect the dirty kit, drive players to and from every match, help contact the team, update the website in fact anything that helps those 11 men take to that pitch of a Saturday.
I'll do it not only to see them win or to keep our team flag flying but because the taking part, the winning and the alehouse post-mortems are what gives me the energy to keep going through the week.
If these FIFA Sofa Superstars could make the transition from wielding a wireless joystick in their designer bedrooms to pulling on a pair of Predator on the pitch then we might see an upturn in the amount of 18-25 year olds playing again. I see countless Tweets about how good people are on the game and how many 'worldies' they just scored. Groups of lads huddled around the flat-screen cheering and cursing yet not one of them is playing Eleven-a-side of a weekend. When did scoring a goal on a LCD TV screen start having the same effect as doing it for real? Addictions to the Xbox, Nintendo and Ps3 are creating a generation of Cyber-Strikers, a venerated cult of lazy lounge-lizards to whom creating team points in a virtual super league means more than actually doing it for real.