Being an only child born to a couple of Rangers fans, there was no other team I was going to support. And during the glory years of the 90’s, where the likes of McCoist, Laudrup and Gazza helped the club to a famous ‘9 in a row’, I was grateful for their desire to dress me in the blue strip of Rangers. Why both my parents support Rangers when they were brought up nearly 100 miles away from Glasgow, I’ve got no idea, but it led me to expect success.
And growing up 100 miles away from Ibrox, I didn’t get to as many games as I would have liked, but we made as many as we could and I always followed my team with a great passion, instilled in me by my parents. When anyone asked why I supported them, I simply reeled off their success as my answer. I never considered myself a ‘glory hunter’, but if you’d asked me to go and watch my local small team play, I’d say, ‘and see them lose? What’s the point?’
That was until my fourth year at university. I was lucky enough to experience a season working with a ‘small’ SPL side. This team had narrowly escaped relegation on the last day of the previous season, compared with my Rangers side romping to the title. The contrast was huge. Players pulled up to training in Toyota Aygos and 10 year old Peugeots, having to watch their wallets, while their ‘big team’ counterparts swan around in their Bentleys and Range Rovers, splashing the cash. A good few of these players could walk down the busiest street in Scotland and no one would bat an eyelid, whereas any fringe player at the Old Firm clubs would have developed cramp in their signing hand within an 18 yard walk. In all honesty, it took me a good couple of weeks to get to know their names. But at every one of their games, there was no denying they were idolised.
Walking from the team bus to the stadium entrance almost every player would be able to see a little lad with their name and number on their back, desperate for the smallest hint of acknowledgement from their favourite player. And they always got it, and in bundles. There were no egos in this team, but genuine appreciation for every one of the fans turning up in all weather without fail. And the fans’ appreciation was shown by song and encouragement. Always encouragement. I got the feeling that these fans would applaud their team off the pitch even if they’d just been smashed 5-0 away from home in the pouring rain by a team they should’ve beaten. And then this very scenario occurred. But the fans didn’t just applaud. They waited behind and clapped the team onto the bus before the journey home. I was gobsmacked.
At the big club games I’d been to, most draws, never mind losses, were greeted by a chorus of anger and boos from many sections of the home support. Previous success has built up a history and become the minimum expectation, with nothing less being satisfactory. Some may call them ‘glory hunters’. Supporters of the teams at the other end of the table however, are a completely different breed. They are the optimists, the ‘glass-half-full’ kind of people who heap praise on the tiniest crack of light or trick or flick, even when facing the humungous struggle of just staying up.
My experience in a little club made me take a fresh look at the state of football. Too many people are too easily seeking success and simply following the masses, buying into huge football clubs whose cheapest matchday tickets could pay for a whole weeks shopping, where 3 points is more important than a passionate effort. The alternative, however, is a short trip to your local small team, visiting the small stadium and paying small ticket prices. And in return, the rollercoaster of emotions you would experience over a season far eclipses anything you could buy at the huge 70,000 seater stadium you’ve travelled over 100 miles to get to. The feeling of grinding out a goalless draw on the final day of the season, meaning you avoid relegation by the skin of your teeth must be hugely more rewarding than aimlessly playing out the last few games of the season knowing you’ve already got the championship wrapped up. Surely?
The passion of these fans who appreciate the sheer effort of their team rather than the result really changed my perspective. And it’s these teams who really need people to come along and support and buy tickets just to help the club survive, rather than the huge, rich clubs that have become more ‘sporting business’ than ‘football team’. So, even if I can’t make a game on a Saturday afternoon, I know which score I always look for first. And it isn’t the top of the table clash. So when it becomes my turn to buy my kids their first strip, my hard-earned money won’t be adding to the millions at the high-flying clubs, but to a local side, where it, along with our support, can really make a difference.
But still, I’ll always have a huge soft spot for Rangers. Boyhood football is when it’s at its best.
DARREN BLACK
Black to Basics 