I was 10 when my dad, a cricket and chess enthusiast, took my brother and me to Upton Park to watch West Ham against Nottingham Forest in November 1987. Forest won 3-2, and the excitement of that afternoon made me a Forest supporter, despite growing up in south London. Photographs from earlier in my childhood show me in Everton and Tottenham kits.
The Everton choice was pure glory-hunting. The Tottenham one may have been down to Paul Gascoigne. Geographically, I should have supported Crystal Palace or Millwall; I vividly remember going to the Den with a Swindon-supporting schoolmate during the Terry Hurlock period.
Falling in and out of love with Forest
My brother became an Arsenal fan while I stuck with Forest. When I was old enough to go to games alone, I followed Forest around London, including a draw at the Den in 1993-94 that was marred by post-match violence after Stan Collymore's equaliser ended Millwall's playoff hopes.
After Forest's magical mid-90s period, they slipped into the doldrums and I drifted away in classic fairweather style. When I lived in Somerset, I dabbled with being a Yeovil supporter.
Emotional investment is a trap
As a teenage Forest fan, I tied my personal happiness to the club's results. A particularly inept late-90s defeat by Wimbledon felt like a personal tragedy that made me question whether I could ever be happy. That is not a healthy way to support a football team, and the 'fan' in 'fanatic' sums it up. I still love football, but I am far more ambivalent about its outcomes.
In Joseph Heller's Catch-22, an old Italian man explains that he was fanatically pro-German while the Germans protected Italy from the Americans, and is now fanatically pro-American because the Americans are there to protect Italy from the Germans. He argues that Italy, universally seen as weak for such switching, is actually the strongest nation in the second world war. The same principle, loosely, applies to football supporters: flexible loyalty is not necessarily a weakness.
The mercenary world of modern football
The gulf between players and fans is grotesque. Players earn enormous sums, carry huge power, and show no loyalty when a better offer arrives, yet fans are expected to devote their lives to a single club. Why should supporters be more loyal than the professionals they worship?
Dedicated fans often end up defending the indefensible: unethical petro-state sportwashing, financial doping, blatant on-field foul play, even spying. If you have ever switched clubs, or are a hidden Manchester United supporter enjoying Manchester City's glory, you should not be ashamed. There are people who understand.
Millwall, Napoli and beyond
Now back in London, I am a regular at the Den and follow Millwall more than Forest. I also love Napoli, after watching them lose to Chelsea in 2012. I have visited Naples several times, made good friends there, and was in the city in May 2023 when they sealed the Serie A title under Luciano Spalletti. I did not have a ticket, but I did not need one - the whole city was celebrating their third scudetto.
I now watch Millwall with one of my oldest friends and his son. The Den is tight, noisy, old-fashioned, has no VAR, and is close to home - which might be what a real fan needs. As long as I live in London I will follow Millwall, with Forest and Napoli thrown in, and Dulwich Hamlet too. Should I ever return to Somerset, I'll be Yeovil till I die.
