What makes a middle-aged dad a soccer yob?
Daily Express, 18th June 2004

What is it about us all? I say 'us' because I am an ardent football fan. I, for my sins, support Chelsea. I have had a season ticket for many years in the hardest part of the ground. I have been abroad with them, most recently in Rome for a glorious European venture, but I have never got mindlessly drunk or gone on the rampage. Still I imagine some of those sitting near me possibly have. Are these people the impoverished, downtrodden of Britain? I don't think so.

The economics are eye-opening: a season ticket even in the cheapest part of the ground where I am costs over £600. The rate varies among the top clubs, but football-watching is now the preserve of the affluent or moderately affluent. Going abroad with the team, even you take the car and camp, is a relatively expensive hobby. It did not surprise me to hear that at least four of the 12 people arrested in the Algarve on Tuesday night were university-educated and that those sentenced included the grandson of a police chief, the son of a catering firm boss and the son of an Oxford academic.

The European football authorities have warned England that they risk being thrown out if the violence continues. It has been largely stamped out in and around grounds in the UK because of a determined campaign by the clubs working in tandem with the police. Anyone who gets into trouble at Chelsea or elsewhere faces a likely lifetime ban – that appears to be far more of a deterrent than a jail sentence.

Hooliganism might be a particularly British (or rather English) disease but it is not exclusive to us. It does seem to be a particularly northern problem, though. The Germans do it (sometimes); the Dutch do it (occasionally). Now the Russians do it (increasingly). On Wednesday in Lisbon one of their fans, incensed at the sending off of their goalkeeper, ran onto the pitch and manhandled one of the officials. Two years ago after Russia were eliminated from the World Cup by Japan hundreds of people started charging through the streets of Moscow looking for anyone remotely oriental to beat up. Their racist taunts are particularly hideous. As for the supposed tolerance of Latin nations, try being a black player in Italy…

But so far the violence in Portugal has revolved around English 'fans' in the south of the country, more than 100 miles away from the ground. Meanwhile, while the Germans and the Dutch were playing a crucial game in their group their respective set of supporters who couldn't find a ticket were boozing it up in bars – together – ribbing each other but doing so non-violently. The Spanish are past master of living it up. The streets of Barcelona and Madrid are as lively at 5 in the morning as 5 in the afternoon. Such is the noise that you won't get any sleep if you live in the neighbourhood, and yet thuggery is almost unheard of.

So what is it about us? The violence we used to see at football grounds in the 1980s and 90s seems simply to have been dispersed into the city centres. Many of Britain's city centres have become no-go areas on Friday and Saturday nights. In some places (and the smaller the town the worse the problem seems to be) it is every night – smashed bottles, smashed heads, the sirens of police cars wailing. Alcohol is at the heart of the problem. The government's recent assault on binge-drinking was less intentioned, but only scratches at the surface. Of course, bars should be persuaded not to encourage over-drinking so easy with their various 'happy hour' offers (in some places girls are offered free booze between midnight and 1am – if that isn't a recipe for trouble, I don't know what is). Of course, better public transport should be provided to help people get home. Of course, the mega-clubs should better coordinate with the police. But none of this gets to the heart of the matter.

And it is not just about sweaty pubs and clubs and cheap booze. Look at the pictures of students at Oxford and Cambridge universities, in their ball gowns, falling over after one bottle of champagne too many. The problem transcends all class and all financial divides. This is a cultural issue. Britain has for too long celebrated booze and boorishness. We even regard it as entertainment. In the early hours of Thursday morning live coverage of Channel 4's reality show Big Brother was cut after violence broke out in the house. The talk after any office Christmas party – any party for that matter – tends to revolve around who got legless and who couldn’t remember how they made their way home.

Drink and violence (the two all too often go together in our country) have become intrinsic parts of our national life. It is as if people are crying out for something to divert their attention from their daily existence. There may be a number of reasons for this. Perhaps it is the breakdown of the family unit. So many new homes for single people are being built it is a sign that quite clearly people do not interact in the way they used to. Perhaps it is the loss of other forms of group activity and identity, such as team sports. Maybe that has something to do with masculinity not having a healthy outlet. Perhaps it is the traditional English island spirit, characterised by the bulldog. Perhaps it is a superiority complex when it comes to foreigners. Or maybe an inferiority complex? Perhaps it is the breaking down of old securities, such as the job for life, and its replacement with constant insecurity. Maybe it is a combination of all of these.

Gatherings of large groups produce a certain mentality – the herd mentality. People seem to suspend their critical faculties. The most domineering member of the group is able to galvanise the rest. The lowest common denominator for behaviour applies.

There are many possible reasons for our descent into loutishness. There are, however, no excuses for it. I speak as a football fan who enjoys the spirit of the terraces (even though we all have to sit nowadays), who enjoys the boisterousness that goes with it. It shouldn’t be hard for people to keep their behaviour in check – just a bit of courtesy, self-discipline and respect. That’s surely not too much to ask.


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