 |
| North Leicester, May 2016 |
As I’ve mentioned before, my interest in
football could be described as fluctuating, at best. Like most British males (and increasingly,
females), I played it a lot as a youth, mostly in the playground or down the
local Rec. - but only occasionally on the far fringes of the school team. I have vaguely nostalgic memories from the early1970s,
of visiting Sincil Bank with my Dad, to watch Lincoln City tangle in freezing
mud with such elevated opposition as Gillingham or Hartlepool. A warmer glow derives from recalling watching
the results over Saturday tea, or being permitted to stay up late for ‘Match Of The Day’. Like most of my childhood contemporaries, I was
a glory-hunting follower of Leeds Utd’s League domination, before (with
characteristic perversity) changing my allegiances to West Ham, ‘because I
liked their strip’. Typically, I had no
geographical or personal connection with either club.
 |
| Central Leicester, May 2016 |
 |
Richard Wilson, Spray Paint on Rendered Wall, West Leicester, 2016. This one was already all over the
global news media by the time I realised it's just round the corner from my home. |
Such fickleness and self-conscious
eccentricity was probably a clue to my real priorities. By my mid-teens, any vestigial interest I had
with the game was waning fast, (along with my engagement with pretty much any
other form of organised sport), and I was self-identifying as the kind of faux-intellectual/hippy/art
ponce to whom such pass-times were derisible.
When pushed, I might admit to the appeal of certain club traditions, or the
heraldic aesthetics of their colours and badges, or the romance inherent in such
picturesque names as Leyton Orient or Heart of Midlothian [1.].
 |
| Central Leicester, May 2016 |
 |
| North Leicester, May, 2016 |
 |
| Central Leicester, May 2016 |
As an adult, I suppose I have slowly reached
some form of grudging accommodation with football. I often happily leave the
radio tuned to BBC Radio 5 Live or Radio Leicester on a Saturday, listening to
at a couple of match commentaries in the process - whilst still feeling baffled
by just how much it all seems to matter to so many people. By the time the early-evening Phone-ins role
around, the whole thing feels increasingly like some bizarre soap opera. Contemplating the profligate economics of the
industry, and the way football saturates our media – it’s tempting to view it
all as a corrupt and morally bankrupt spectacle, or even as a vast mechanism of
social control. But a good match is still
entertaining enough for all that, and can, on occasion, provide genuine edge-of -the-seat thrills. When played well, football can even become a ballet of flowing movement, (though not at Sincil Bank, obviously).
 |
| Central Leicester, May 2016 |
 |
| North Leicester, May 2016 |
 |
| Central Leicester, May 2016 |
And matter - it clearly does, however baffling that may be. Sometimes I wonder if it all actually
serves the function that religion once did for the thousands who throng together
on a weekly basis in large buildings where, for a couple of hours, ritual, superstition,
tribalism and mindless loyalty hold sway. It certainly seems to be a quest for emotional
release, or even transcendental experience, and fans regularly exhort each
other to ‘Believe’ and to ‘Keep The Faith’.
 |
The Scene Outside The King Power Stadium As Leicester City were drawing in Manchester on
Sunday 1 May 2016... |
 |
...And on Tuesday 3 May, having been confirmed as Champions, without kicking
another ball. |
Anyway, all analysis and false intellectualising
aside, you can’t really ignore the impact of footy here in Leicester, this week. Exactly how Leicester City attained their
improbable status as Premier League Champions, can be unpicked elsewhere ad
nauseam [2.]. So, instead, what you see here is a selection of images that,
in one way or another, illustrates the inescapable effects of it all on my
immediate environment. Only a fool would
suggest that ‘winning the football’ hasn’t created a palpable vibe in the city.
The clues - both official and unofficial, are there to be found in numerous
mundane locations. Of course, there’s
bound to be an element of bandwagon-jumping or business generation about some
of it, but the overall mood is celebratory, and why would anyone argue with
that?
 |
| The King Power Stadium, West Leicester, May 2016 |
Oh, and in case anyone believes I’m just far
too detached and cynical about all this, - Many congratulations to Leicester
City FC! A lot of genuine hard work and
shared endeavour clearly went into upsetting the game’s established order, -
and who doesn’t love an underdog, after all?
Some folk round this way claim grandly to have witnessed a
once-in-a-lifetime miracle. That’s a
collective experience that will be forever ingrained in folk memory, and
perhaps - in the very fabric of this place.
 |
| North Leicester, May 2016 |
 |
| Central Leicester, May 2016: Hopefully not just yet... |
[1.]: In
my imagination, West Ham seemed to embody a kind of shadowy East-End glamour - tied
up with the Music Hall hangover of their traditional ‘Bubbles’ song and the distinctly Victorian vibe of their claret
& blue livery. Conveniently, they
weren’t complete duffers either, and won the FA cup not long after I began my flirtation with them. At least some of the
school bullies could see the point.
[2.]: ‘Unbelievable’ is the term in most common
parlance, - suggesting the city might even be in the grip of some collective
hallucination.
No comments:
Post a Comment