Fans pay a heavy price for loyalty

I LIKE prison films. Cool Hand Luke, Birdman of Alcatraz, Shawshank.

Used to think it was because I was claustrophobic, there but for the grace of God and all that.

But there was always a testament to the human spirit. So what if they thought they’d taken everything away from you, you could still find moments of triumph over your tormentors.

Don’t get me wrong, there are many days I thank God I was born to support this team but every so often this obsession has got you in such a vice-like grip you can’t breathe.

I can think of many pleasant places to spend St Stephen’s Day, but Blackburn wouldn’t be one of them.

So my out, my flipped finger, my glimpse of autonomy comes with the Carling Cup. They can keep it. And if our second-string somehow gets us to the final I’ll go to that. Because I can, and screw the guilt.

I hope Bernard isn’t reading this, but I found the postponement of the Arsenal game a touch too amusing for my own good never mind his.

We usually get decent crowds for what are basically reserve games by lowering prices, but not this time. As soon as a big name emerges, the prices go back up.

It’s a terrible “f*** you” to the fans. A couple of seasons ago Arsenal also played a ‘reserve’ game with United that duped 65,000 suckers and I’d always hoped our lot would not fall for this blatant shafting.

Apparently last Tuesday was going to be another big gate. You can choose to revel in the loyalty factor, perhaps using it to torment the ludicrous ‘People’s Club’ for failing to fill their matchstick ground, even for the visit of the champions.

For those of us who’ve waited almost a dozen years for the ‘consumer’ to bite Football back on its huge, greedy, self-absorbed arse it’s the latest in a series of letdowns.

You just look befuddled shouting “I’m Spartacus!” when you’re the only man standing.

Benitez and Wenger squealed like pigs because it interfered with their precious schedules, casually ignoring the fact they intended to pick weakened teams anyway.

They cared little for the fans for whom the game could have resembled the intro to a prog-rock gig stretched over two hours (I saw a few of those in my youth). As it turned out, the fog cleared as soon as the game was postponed, making many a long journey home especially enjoyable.

In the old days we’d have had some fun. Started the game, one side of the ground singing to the other in order to find out what was happening as we did for Anderlecht in 1978.

Now we’ll scrounge a few more Dubai millions to plonk a roof onto the Parrydome. If all else fails we could buy 200 square yards of tarpaulin and some rope, or plug in a thousand hairdryers. Anything so as not to upset our TV puppet-masters.

Rafa also criticised the holiday period of four matches in nine days, but not because his club’s most devoted fans must find a small fortune during the most expensive time of year.

We’re the fools. We create these earthly deities and police ourselves with “loyalty”. Many will read my line about only going to the final and gasp because it’s not how a fan behaves.

Do I sound like someone at the end of his tether? Christmas can do that to you. Good tidings of comfort and joy? Maybe now that we’ve got our season on track, albeit with a sequence of games any team with ambition ought to win.

Watford are the latest humdrum outfit to come here to waste time and park the bus. The gulf between the princes and paupers is so vast this is virtually the only option available. That doesn’t stop it suffocating the soul.

They play like the old Wimbledon, they even dress like them and kick the ball till it bleeds. It must be contagious because we also struggled to get it down on the ground and play.

Once Bellamy received his reward for persistence, it was simply a case of playing out time and adding another home win to what is a growing and undeniably impressive Anfield record.

The trick it seems is not to actually look as if you’re unbeatable. It’s important to give the opposition some encouragement, even Watford.

Is that why the improving Reina went flapabout again, or why the word Garcian will enter the language to describe maximum irritation?

If this all sounds downbeat then it’s because there are greater challenges in the coming weeks, and this season has so far provided scant evidence we can meet them head on.