What is the role of the football spectator in the modern game?

It may seem a slightly dramatic question but I couldn’t help but wonder after I’d hushed my 13-year-old nephew as he cat-called during Watford’s latest home defeat (Wednesday’s, to relegation-threatened Barnsley). In retrospect I slightly regret infringing his freedom of expression but I’ve done my best over the years I’ve been taking him to instil in him my own values as a supporter.

For me, the word says it all. I take the definition of ''to support'' to mean to encourage/help and pride myself on leaving many games hoarse as I cheer on the Golden Boys whether they win, lose or draw.

'Whether we go up through the play-offs or not, I will not be booing Watford or leaving matches early'


In that way I have to admit to a slight sense of superiority to those who go to games and hardly make a noise (and trust me, at Watford’s Vicarage Road stadium there are thousands) even when the team is playing well and winning.

A great memory from last year’s relegation season was going to Old Trafford midweek and out-singing 70,000 Manchester United fans as they cruised past us 4-0. My nephew and I joined in the deriding of those 'plastic supporters' but at the Vic it would be hard to describe the Yellow Army as anything approaching a genuine 12th man.

Nevertheless, I understand the argument that people have paid good money (£25 from where I sit) and therefore have the right to respond to poor performances in a manner they deem appropriate. For many on Wednesday, that meant booing individual players during the match, booing the team at half-time when we were only a goal down and had created chances of our own, while others voted with their feet before the hour mark after we’d conceded a third.

My first reaction to those who booed so early remains unchanged. I believe that this is the only noise these people make at Watford matches. In game after game the front and back rows of the stand I am in cheer the team on, whereas the silence from the middle is as noticeable as it is from the Rous stand.

Coded messages of thanks from Aidy Boothroyd, chairman and captain after an exceptionally rousing 10-man night against Leicester a couple of months ago had a clear subtext: "Why can’t you always give us that level of support?"

Digression aside, the question of the spectator’s role remains. Is football now merely another form of entertainment, which demands no more loyalty than the latest play at the local theatre? (I choose that comparison because in a cinema booing would have no effect on the performers.)

Money has flooded the sport and changed it forever. Nevertheless, for those who choose their team because of a loyalty to locality rather than a desire to be identified with 'a winning product' (hence the legions of United and Arsenal 'plastics' in Watford), surely the team does not need to 'earn' support anew at every match?

The raising of expectations undoubtedly makes their disappointment a harder fall. Watford sat nine points clear at the top of the Championship in November and have produced only a handful of good performances since then but were still expected to beat Barnsley, despite their FA Cup heroics.

Similarly, the size of a club is not an unrelated matter. How happy must many of the fans of FC United and AFC Wimbledon be with their league performances compared to fans of Tottenham or Newcastle? Obviously more booing has been heard at the Premier League sides than at the non-league ones.

Perhaps there is something else? After all, the reactions of many of those who turn up to watch matches seem implicitly to agree with Bill Shankly’s legendary assessment of the beautiful game, that it is much more important than life and death.

Not for me. Whether we go up through the play-offs or not, I will not be booing Watford or leaving matches early.

I do not believe this fact alone makes me a 'better' supporter than those who do but ceteris paribus the ability to laugh in the face of defeat, yes, and even humiliation, might make me a better man.