On February 18, 2006, Alan Smith of Manchester United broke a leg and dislocated an ankle. There was a similar reaction to the Eduardo injury. Videos up on YouTube within hours of the injury taking place, loads of media coverage, people discussing whether he would ever play again etc.

Obviously the injury did not happen as the result of a terrible challenge, but the effect was the same. However, there is a reason I can distinguish the two events so easily. Quite simply, I did not care that Smith was injured.

I did not send the player an email wishing him a speedy recovery. I did not chat to my friends endlessly about the topic. I did not stop watching the match within which the accident happened because I found it so upsetting. No. I continued to enjoy the game (well, as much as you can be entertained by Manchester United v Liverpool) and barely gave the incident an after-thought.

'I don't like the fact that my moods can be dictated by people I have never met'


Indeed, I did not even think about it again until yesterday, when I realised I felt genuine emotion for Eduardo that I had not felt before for an injured player. The question is this: As fans of a football team, do we form an unnatural bond with people we have never met or will ever speak to?

The nature of supporting a team in itself is quite a bizarre one, as we form an imagined community with the club we have chosen. We feel an attachment, an intrinsic link, to a group of people who we see kick a ball around a field. Week after week, we will cheer their actions, boo them when they play badly and talk about them for hours on end day after day.

The players become our possession, who we want rid of if they are not doing well for the club. And in the same way we grow attached to objects, we form an unspoken bond with the people who run around on a field representing our club.

This essentially affects our judgement. We don't care when bad things happen to players from other teams. Sure, we might say something along the lines of 'Oh, that's a shite injury to have', but we don't really care and we do not consider the implications the injury might actually have on a player's life.

They don't belong to us, therefore we don't care. Indeed, in some situations, we might even be happy that someone has picked up a broken leg. If Ronaldo were to be the object of a two-footed lunge next weekend, could you honestly say that you would care? I'm not sure I could.

I am not completely comfortable with this fact. I don't like the fact that my moods can be dictated by people I have never met, and indeed that I can feel no sympathy for a footballer who gets a terrible injury because he plays for a team I do not support.

I'm not saying that this is the case for all football fans, and of course I have given a bad example in Alan Smith as he is not the most popular player in the world (who is after you've played for Leeds United?). But I do believe that I am not the only fan in the world who feels this lack of compassion for players not playing for 'my' team.

So is this psyche an acceptable element of my personality which I developed when I chose to 'support' a football team, or a bizarre and unnatural element of my personality which I need to deal with?! I'm not so sure.

Right, I've taken long enough on this, I'd better get back to arranging for someone to 'deal with' Ronaldo this weekend . . .