'Tis better to have loved and lost....

We've all done it. Come on, admit it, you're among friends. A brief dalliance with an attractive European while on the continent. A holiday romance that although was fun was never destined, nor indeed meant to last, the sort of thing no right minded individual should dream of doing at home. I did it o n a weekend trip to Milan. I went to watch Inter and for the briefest of times, I supported a successful club I had nothing to do with.  I waved my scarf at the correct moments, joined in the orchestrated singing (as best as my appalling Italian would allow) and got frustrated when they missed chances. Although I enjoyed it immensely, during the whole experience I felt like a fraud. An interloper in something that was very real for those around me but was merely a bit of fun for me.  And this is how it must be, week in week out, for those who shun their local clubs and have their heads turned by sexy, silverware laden clubs from the opposite end of the country. I suspect that when a Manchester United fan from Swindon meets the real deal from Swinton, there is a tinge of embarrassment from the charlatan, a reddening of the neck that immediately precipitates a need to compose a plausible explanation for trying to muscle in on their counterpart's lover. To this end, our impostors tend to be mouthier versions of the genuine article and this is what irks me the most. They'll recount stories of being a child in 1976 and "seeing United in the Cup Final and being hooked." Must have been Jimmy Nicholl's hair that did it. And they lost that day so that proves they're a proper fan and not just a glory hunter. It's this rubbish that gets my goat. Be honest. You like them because they win stuff. And you don't like your local side because they don't and they're never on TV. In Milan, I pretty much kept my head down and observed. After all, this wasn't really my party. I wish others could do the same. Instead, they embrace everything about the club they have selected with a ludicrous fervour that makes them look a bit potty. The over excited displays of disgust when the local rivals appear is risible. How can someone from Devon or Kent who has decided to don the red of Liverpool, really understand the longstanding rivalry with Manchester? This is the essence of the problem. How can someone identify with a town or city they've never visited? To refer to another town's team as "we" is just plain daft. It's not "we", it is "they" and you should never waiver from that, because the team you say you love have absolutely nothing to do with you. It is someone else's club that you covet and the sooner you spend your time and efforts on those closer to home, the happier you'll be. Getting behind your local side makes sense, for a start you can go to games and get home for your tea afterwards. It's a great way to spend an afternoon, watching football. Far better than watching some people on TV watching football. You'll be able to see your team representing your town with your neighbours and fellow townsfolk. And it's great! Football isn't all about winning trophies, it's about camaraderie and belonging, belonging to something that's already yours. So get down to your local club and get involved in a little civic pride. You won't regret it. Luigi