One of the most annoying things that can happen when watching a football match is when people in the row in front – or along your row – decide to get up early and push by. Or they arrive late. Meaning everyone has to stand up to let them pass. Only last match there was some frenzied activity taking place on the pitch in front of me, except I lost sight of what was going on, replaced by the backs of people standing and those sidling out. The ball might have run loose to set up a goal, the players tussling for possession, indulging in wrestling, fisticuffs, rehearsing for Strictly for all I could see. Why these blokes decided this was the moment to shuffle towards the exit, displacing everyone in their wake, thus eliminating my line of vision for a good thirty seconds, only they will know. Except it probably never occurred to them.
I missed a goal due to a latecomer
It could have been worse. I completely missed a goal due to a latecomer not so long ago. Do these people get reduced-price ticketing and are allowed only 40 minutes per half? Or are they incapable of balancing their input of alcohol with its output, unable control their bladders for a minimum of fifty minutes?
The club is very conscious of latecomers and early leavers. In fact, a goal conceded early doors (as they say down the soon-to-be-closed Smithfield market) was attributed by the club to a lack of atmosphere in the ground, with many empty seats, as a half kicked off. It’s not as if there’s no warning on the concourses. And Nigel Mitchell’s pitchside exhortations about making noise straight from the kick-off reflects the importance the club gives of being in your seat from the off – and, for my part, staying there!
But fellow supporters wrecking my matchday experience reached a new low on Sunday when I was in the Emirates to watch Arsenal women vs Aston Villa women, a match being played simultaneously with the Fulham vs the Arsenal men match. I wanted both of our teams to win, of course, but parked my anxiety over needing points at Craven Cottage to enjoy the game being served up in front of me. And good it was, with the Arsenal back to their free-flowing, free-scoring best.
I knew what it meant. Fulham had scored
Except, suddenly, I was aware, a few seats away, of people sharing a mobile phone. And I could see them waving it with an image of a player in a white kit. I knew what it meant. Fulham had scored. They were watching the men’s game on their mobile while the live match unfolded in front of them. Inevitably, I was now constantly distracted by them, heart-in-mouth, half an eye and ear waiting for the signs of an equaliser, dreading going down 2-0. And all the while, in front of me, the game of football I had paid and chosen to come to watch.
As the Premier League match was on TV, why come to the Emirates to not watch the women’s match? Acutely aware of their every movement – reading from them a near miss, poor defending, injuries to key players and dreading another goal against, wishing for a goal for – the continuing distraction made it hard to concentrate on, let alone enjoy what was a very good performance by the Arsenal women.
Yet somehow, I did immerse myself in the live game. When a stunning goal from Alesia Russo rounded off a resounding 4-0 victory, I realised I didn’t know the score from Fulham. How had I been able to forget about it?
I looked along my row. Empty seats. The people who had been distracting me by watching the men’s game on their mobile had only gone home. That’s why it had gone silent and still.
So perhaps there is virtue in people leaving early after all!
Richard Smith, December 9