I’m recovering from this year’s Bristol Comics Expo and was planning to do a blog about it or UKIP being wankers today, but seeing as I’ve decided that hard work isn’t for today, Today is wallowing in the joy that The Mighty Partick Thistle have managed to get through our first season back in the Scottish Premier League and we’ve survived.
For the sort of plastic fan who leaps onboard supporting a team like Manchester United or Chelsea because they’re rich and successful, it must be hard for them to look at a wee club and their fans in Glasgow celebrating scraping survival and think it doesn’t matter compared to the billions in pounds spent promoting these clubs now so far removed from the communities that made them. They must see us as ants, but it’s fans of clubs like Thistle, or Bristol Rovers, or Crewe, or Mansfield, or Motherwell, or Hartlepool, and on and on that make up the lifeblood of football in the UK. This isn’t to say good fans of the big clubs don’t exist and it’d be a hard, hard heart that would deny Manchester City fans some joy after so many stood by the club when they were in the third tier of English football struggling to get out but it’s the arrogant assumption of people like Greg Dyke that it’s only the bigger clubs which matter.
That is frankly, bollocks.
So we live to fight another day. We celebrate the end of a long season and look forward to the World Cup and then, possibly, I’ll start worrying about relegation but I’m not bailing from supporting my club because it means something, even from all these miles away.