Track Changes

Football is the great leveller. K marvels at how I can identify a fan and, within five minutes of meeting someone, be talking in a language incomprehensible to anyone who doesn’t like, follow, or care for football.

My friend James employs it as a screening process and a filtering mechanism to avoid his wife’s partner’s friends. “They don’t like football,” he tells me one afternoon while we wait to go into Plough Lane, “I don’t have anything in common with them.”

James has a theory. Men are interested in one of three things: politics, sports, and video games. When meeting anyone new, the key is to identify which of the three they are interested in.

James is a salesman, and he is adept at navigating all three worlds with ease. James is a salesman and he sees the world as a theory to be solved.

Over time, I realised that politics is just sports but with different uniforms. However, I need help to converse about politics like I can about football.

The coffee shop near my house has a Liverpool fan as one of the baristas. Today, I went in and ordered a Flat White. A mere mention of “Curtis Jones” sparked a lively conversation. It feels as though we’ve been lifelong friends. I’m not sure he knows my name isn’t “mate”. But it doesn’t matter.

Football is the great leveller. Not only is it the universal game, but it’s the universal language. Tell me you’re an Arsenal fan, and I understand things about you that your partner probably doesn’t understand. Life is a philosophy, you are a pessimist, but you believe in imminent prosperity (possibly one central midfielder away). You are fundamentally attuned to the cosmic depths of a last-minute defeat.

Tell me you’re a United fan, and I know that you are brittle, soft-skinned, yet confident in your ability to thrive in this world, even as your prime years wane. Tell me you’re a City fan, and I’ll know you’re fifteen years younger than me.

Yes, football has its share of problems—violence, racism, sexism, and the overwhelming influence of money. But aren’t these issues mere reflections of the broader world rather than unique symptoms exclusive to the sport?

The greatest gift my parents gave me was a love of football. Which is ironic because neither of them like the game.