21st August 2010, a fresh-faced, four foot tall, six year old version of me is sat, in my dad’s arms, absolutely terrified on the District Line at the prospect of being surrounded by a large group of beer-fuelled, claret-and-blue wearing blokes loudly chanting about Mark Noble.
My old man and I are on a Westbound service towards Ealing Broadway, on our way to watch West Ham take on Bolton Wanderers in the Premier League, a match-up between a truly awful, relegation-bait West Ham, and a solid Bolton Wanderers side.
In the main event, West Ham were put to the sword by Bolton’s Swedish talisman Johan Elmander and resoundingly lost 3-1, and I spent the entire 90 minutes wanting to leave – we eventually vacated the ground sometime around the 80th. Yet bizarrely, this seemingly testing and disagreeable experience is one that I look back on incredibly fondly.
You see, us football fans are by nature nostalgic beings, memories of particular days, alongside obsolete items like programmes and scarves are things we hold dear. And recollections of one’s ‘first match’ represent the peak of such rose-tinted reminiscence; you’ll always remember the family member that took you, the score, and the journey to and from the ground.
As social media platforms such as TikTok and X (formally ‘Twitter’) have become the bases for discourse around the beautiful game more and more in recent years, football fans have been quick to indulge themselves by posting and interacting with masses of nostalgia-related content.
This is a pattern signified most prominently by the widespread ‘Barclaysman’ trend, which took hold of Twitter with an iron clasp last month, and saw a plethora of videos, containing highlights of cult heroes such as Jay-Jay Okocha and Tugay, from the ‘Barclays’ era of the Premier League – the period from 2001 to 2016 in which the competition was sponsored by the high street bank chain – all set to the backdrop of early 2000s indie tunes from the likes of the Arctic Monkeys and Just Jack.
This trend was remarkably wholesome, and the content it produced made for remarkable viewing However, whilst hungover and bedrotting at midday on a Sunday, I have increasingly noticed a clear element of toxicity and negativity infecting these dreamy-eyed nostalgic posts. This seem to revolve around a notion that football, both as a sport, and an institution in public life, is “finished” or “gone”, and that the days of the 1990s and 2000s are a lost golden age to which we will never return. Why has this pattern of argument become so prevalent?
One possible answer lies in the clear changes to how the sport is played, which – by most people’s estimation – has made the sport less engaging and exciting. The football that characterised the ‘Barclays’ era was swashbuckling and attacking, and was all about hoofing the ball up and charging forward, or ‘having a dig’ from the edge of the area – just check out the wonder goals from the likes of classic ‘Barclaysmen’ such as Steven Pieenar and Dean Ashton.
Yet in recent years – and in large part thanks to the work of a certain Mr Guardiola – the way in which the sport is played has no doubt become more regimented and possession based, turning many showpiece matches into slow, chess-like contests. As was so aptly demonstrated by many of the snoozefests served up during the knockout stages of this summer’s European Championships, including a truly tedious 0-0 draw in the Quarter-Finals between France and Portugal, two teams that had been heavily fancied pre-tournament.
Another feasible explanation is the perceived loss of soul that has been witnessed in the beautiful game in recent years. Premier League players used to have personality and character, fans hanging on to their every action and word; think Roy Keane’s aggression, Gary Neville’s passion, Ray Parlour’s laddishness. Yet as a result of persistent harsh treatment and victimisation by the media, many footballers have retreated into their shell, scared to express opinions or showcase the ‘real them’ to the media, turning post-match interviews into sobering, dull affairs.
Furthermore, England’s football grounds used to be a haven of intensity and fervour. However, due to large numbers of fans being priced out of the game by rising ticket prices, and many clubs, such as West Ham and Manchester City, moving from their traditional home grounds – which were closely rooted in and tied to communities – to identikit, characterless stadiums named after corporations. Many English league grounds now have truly awful atmospheres.
It is worth mentioning that an obvious minority, but some, of the narrative around the game being ‘gone’, does verge into truly murky and nasty territory, and focuses around criticising the various attempts football has made to liberalise and become more inclusive in recent years. Whether in terms of cracking down on offensive chanting, or targeting misogynistic voices, and endeavouring to make the game a more welcoming space for women. Such accounts are clearly offensive, and should be confined to the past, not still present in the 21st century.
There is often nothing better than nostalgia, and being able to relive the events and fascinations of one’s childhood; however, I don’t believe we should involve ourselves so heavily in such a pattern of behaviour, that it clouds our judgement of the present day, and makes us negative and disparaging about the current world around us. Likewise, it is clear that football has its issues, but it nonetheless continues to provide us with great drama, and brilliant cultural narratives – we should not give up on the beautiful game just yet.
