Date: 22nd July 2011 at 12:00pm
Written by:

With the professional football season back on the horizon, and the Scottish league due to start this coming weekend, its time to take stock of the summer, and reflect on what’s been a tremendous few months of sporting action, that of course, as an arrogantly ignorant football fan, I leached on to with the fervour and desire of a bone-a-fide enthusiast.

You see I like to think of myself as a follower of all sports. I tell people that. But if I was to be perfectly honest with myself, I truly only love one sport, and that is football. I try to be as passionate and appreciative of Boxing, Tennis and Formula One, to name but a few, but I just end up embarrassing myself amongst the true aficionados of the sport, and have to spend my time talking about how deplorable Rupert Murdoch is.

As soon as Barcelona lifted the European Cup I knew this summer was going to be a difficult one. No World Cup, No European Championships and only the sculpted goddesses of Sky Sports News to keep me company. Providing every minute detail about every transfer rumour from every club, six times an hour, 24 hours a day, seven days a week, for 2 months.

It quickly became tedious. However, I did find solace in watching the Sky coverage consist of still frames from Tennis matches and Grand Prix races that were being broadcast uninterrupted on terrestrial television.

At this point, they should just turn to the screen, treated us like adults and said, “Listen we know no one is watching us. And if you are you shouldn’t be. Just change the channel. Go on. You’ll enjoy it more. We’ll still be here in August. Just have a good summer.”

I was then struck with a lightening bolt of intelligence that was quickly eradicated by a runaway train of retardation. My Premier League Year videos.

I jumped into my attic and rummaged through my disregarded belongings, finally finding them, underneath my collection of half-filled sticker albums and a broken subbuteo board. And as I accelerated into my living room looking forward to hours worth of reminiscing about the glorious skills of Julian Joachim and Ian Taylor, the train suddenly hit me. I haven’t had a VCR in years.

I was left with no other choice; I was going to have to learn to like other sports. The transfer window is never as fun as your remember in the haze of the season and it just couldn’t hold my attention for the summers entirety.

Solemnly I decided that the Formula One season would be my go to sport. Schumacher was back so I had a way in, but when did fans start becoming so technically proficient? Back in my day, no one knew anything about down force or tyre pressure! However back in my day I was 8. Feeling idiotic and completely out of my depth I crawled away even before the third qualifying session had begun.