Imagine if fans wielded their power by staying away when grounds reopen
As implausible and preposterous as it may be, let’s imagine a post Covid-19 world where football fans are finally allowed back into Premier League grounds but elect en masse not to go. Not because home drinking, tedious family Zoom quizzes and banana bread baking have eclipsed the sport in popularity, but because after months spent locked out of stadiums match-going supporters have realised the importance of their role cannot be overstated and unilaterally opt to stay away until certain conditions are met.
Even before a ball has been kicked it is reasonably safe to assume that Saturday’s FA Cup final will be the worst of all time. A traditionally grand occasion that will be memorable for all the wrong and weirdest of reasons, the Football Association’s showpiece event has been reduced to little more than a surreal meander through the motions this season, in order to fulfil contractual obligations and keep the financial and football record books up to date.
Carnations may well adorn lapels, there will be half-hearted pre-match smoke and mirrors, and Arsenal or Chelsea will prevail. The trophy will be handed over and hoisted skywards following an awkward presentation soundtracked by a pyrotechnic display designed to divert global attention from the depressingly bare look of the cavernous empty and iconic stadium in which one of the most famous games in world football has just been played.
Contested to the sound of no hands clapping or fans chanting, the game itself may well be a classic but the occasion will be uncharacteristically desolate and grim. It will still matter; of course it will. For all its neatness as a soundbite, the notion that football without fans is nothing is just not true and a Cup final played with nobody in attendance is, at least for those on the pitch, marginally better than no Cup final at all.
Every day all over the world, footballers of all ages, shapes, sizes, levels of ability and fitness gather to play their own cup finals without an audience for their own amusement and invariably have a fine time. Whether it’s on pitches, indoor and outdoor courts, gymnasiums, back gardens and yards, waste ground, scrubland, these finals are generally played wherever there’s room for one enthusiast or more to chase a rolling, bouncing ball. But for the presence of those playing, these locations would more often than not be forlorn, empty and unattended, demonstrating that football without fans is generally a very healthy, popular and largely beneficial use of the players’ time.
It is not widely known but the sum total of no spectators were in attendance to witness the best goal ever scored. An Exocet header from outside the penalty area – or where the penalty area would have been if the pitch had been marked – the ball was fumbled on to the inside of the upright by a butterfingered schoolboy nicknamed Beaver before bouncing over the goalline that also wasn’t there. The young goalkeeper’s clumsy intervention was not enough to keep the ball out but probably prevented the silence from the sidelines that greeted the stunning effort being broken by the satisfying sound of a rippling goal net. I say probably, because in the absence of anything so glamorous as an actual goal net it was impossible to tell.
In the absence of applause or pleasing sound effects, the scorer was forced to settle for the usual congratulatory pats on the head and boots up the arse from a few surprised teammates before a bell went and arguably the most insignificant kickabout in the history of the sport came to an end. Except it wasn’t completely insignificant because more than 30 years later I still recall that wonderful header I scored with fondness and crystal clarity. Far more importantly, it is finally a matter of public record.
The 15-year-old me had long since made peace with the fact he would never score in an FA Cup final but on Saturday somebody else who dreamed of doing so as a child almost certainly will. Technically, achieving such a milestone in front of 90,000 unoccupied and utterly indifferent seats will not render their accomplishment any less significant, except it almost certainly will.
Top-level football without fans is not nothing but it has become abundantly clear in recent weeks it is little more than a pale imitation of itself. The fact that this faded, facsimile, fan-free football is a sterile, anodyne and largely pointless pursuit will not have gone unnoticed by the grasping clubs, governing bodies and broadcasting companies who rely on the sport and those who watch it for their billions. Never before have football fans enjoyed such influence, although they will almost inevitably choose not to use it.
Imagine if they did. Imagine a scenario where they mobilised and decided enough is enough. One in which, upon being welcomed back into their vast and long-vacant enormo-domes in the coming months, they chose instead to stay away subject to a list of not entirely unreasonable demands being met.
Much cheaper tickets. No more paywalls, or at the very least a significant reduction in TV subscriptions, which would then be capped. An end to club gouging, the disturbing recent proliferation of gambling advertising and the rescheduling of matches for the benefit of armchair viewers at the expense of matchgoing fans. A guaranteed and substantial trickle-down redistribution of wealth from the top of the game to grassroots that, if needs be, comes out of the pockets of players, agents and owners who earn more money than any one person could possibly need. And they’re just a few off the top of the collective head for starters.
In his illuminating book Can We Have Our Football Back?, published long before lockdown, John Nicholson, the world’s most idealistic football writer, insists repeatedly that fans have always had the power. There may never be a better time to wield it.
Much cheaper tickets. No more paywalls. A redistribution of wealth to grassroots. And they're just for starters