A Supporting Argument

I haven’t felt the way I felt in the 95th minute on Saturday at Carrow Road in a long time. Months, perhaps years, of pent up frustration and indifference to Norwich City football was explosively released in that moment. We all deserved that.

We’ve endured a particularly rudderless period of Canaries history since Covid. Regression without accountability, unkept promises, an abandonment of style and principles, and the odd win or two, all failing to arouse much excitement due to the unclear overall direction of travel. Many people reached a point last season where they were questioning their desire to continue attending games. Some decided not to renew their season tickets. And after seeing the familiarly slapstick nature of how Norwich fell behind to another average (at best) side at weekend, the same questions might’ve lingered in the minds of those who umm-ed and ahh-ed about keeping their seat over the summer. 

You wouldn’t have had to look far to see fans fighting amongst themselves about what ‘support’ actually means

No one should blame those whose patience had worn irreparably thin last season. While 2022/23 wasn’t as bruising an experience as 2021/22 from a purely wins, draws and losses point of view, the quality of football and entertainment was equally (if not more) soul-destroying. For some, it had become intolerable enough to no longer buy into. This, as much as the football itself, stoked a lot of unhealthy division among supporters at the back end of last season.

I spend probably too much time on a certain social media app. You know, that one that’s recently rebranded and isn’t exactly the internet’s go-to place for good news and positivity. While passively scrolling through Elon’s algorithms for some Norwich City debate last season, you wouldn’t have had to look far to see fans fighting amongst themselves about what ‘support’ actually means. 

Some were announcing their dissatisfaction at the joylessness of watching their team, or other factors in their lives which make going to Carrow Road more of a juggling act – and how attending was becoming increasingly difficult to justify in such a lost cause of a season. Then there were others offering some rather unhelpful feedback along the lines of ‘go support someone else then’ and ‘give up your seat to someone who wants to be there then’. Let’s douse this particular branch of discourse in weedkiller as quickly as possible, please.

It isn’t easy for everyone to make the same commitment, because it quite literally isn’t the same commitment. The cost of living crisis versus our steep ticket prices has squeezed many fans, particularly in a post-pandemic world where incomes have become far less certain. Maybe it’s the travel involved – not everyone lives in and around the fine city, or even Norfolk, so therefore a home game is far from a straightforward undertaking. Remember, we’re not a well-connected part of the country here. Both road and rail networks leave a lot to be desired. And whichever mode of transport you choose, it won’t be cheap or reliable (in the case of the latter). 

Watching, listening and commenting from home – any investment of time and energy – is also support

These are challenges some face during good times and bad, but during the past couple of seasons can you blame any of them for deciding that certain games (or all games) aren’t worth the stress? Season ticket holders are being asked to cough up £500+ a year, among one of the most expensive prices in the country. The ROI has been next to nothing since that magical adventure of 2018/19 – the 2020/21 title win would’ve taken place entirely behind a screen for almost everyone. Even though that money was long gone from supporters’ accounts before the most insipid performances were being served up in March and April, the free time is still a precious commodity.

By the same token, those choosing to prioritise other things (and people) don’t need to be told by others through self-congratulatory posts how being in the away end or away pub or whatever part of Timbuktu (A) in the middle of an avalanche is ‘called support’. Because watching, listening and commenting from home – any investment of time and energy – is also support. We also don’t need condescending columns accusing fans of ‘abandoning support’ and ‘throwing in the towel’, such as the one that surfaced on a leading channel of Canaries content last season.

Most of us will have other hobbies and interests we put on the back burner during the season and people we perhaps don’t see enough of because we allow our weekends to revolve too much around a fixture list. During last season, more and more people started to redress that balance and make (for them) wise choices – which they are allowed to do by the way. Football is merely the most important of the least important things.

Being a supporter isn’t about loving everything something or someone does, or the lengths of which you go to prove how unwavering and unconditional that love is

Being a fan of something doesn’t mean you have to enthusiastically back every move either. It’s not about cheerleading. As someone investing in a product, you’re entitled to be critical too. As a massive fan of the band Deaf Havana, I’m well-qualified to tell you if, in my opinion, the latest album isn’t as good as their previous efforts and if I feel the new direction in which they’ve taken their sound hasn’t worked.

Bad example, maybe – every Deaf Havana album is a masterpiece, you should really check them out, they formed in Norfolk and have several songs about growing up here. Maybe a better case study is the Arctic Monkeys and the rather self-indulgent path that frontman Alex Turner has taken the most recent two albums down. While the newer, slower-paced material may have appealed to a different audience, it absolutely alienated some of the diehards. But the point is, being a supporter isn’t about loving everything something or someone does, or the lengths of which you go to prove how unwavering and unconditional that love is. It’s about belonging in a community, keeping up to date, having an opinion and displaying your fandom however you see fit.

If you attend one game a season or all 46, if you travel one mile or a hundred to get to Carrow Road, if you don’t (or can’t) go at all and listen to the brilliant Radio Norfolk commentary at home, if you buy the new shirt or you prefer the retro ones, if you give any tiny amount of your day to read or listen to our content here, you’re a fan. And you know what, if you stopped doing any of those things last season, or the season before, you’re still a fan. You don’t become disenchanted and disconnected with something unless you were very much enchanted and connected previously. 

Let’s not turn on each other for dealing with the ups and downs of the football rollercoaster in different ways

For most who did choose to re-prioritise their time towards the end of 22/23, many will have still been following events from afar – and many will say how they wish to be back at Carrow Road and for the vibes to be healthier (and the football more watchable). They were probably counting down the days to the Hull game just gone. That’s not abandoning support. You can never fully extinguish the flame that burns for your football club. There will never not be at least 1% of you that cares.

Who knows what we’ll be served up this season. As of now, one game into the 46, the outlook seems brighter. The atmosphere is more buoyant. The previously severed connection between club and fans is slowly healing. If it isn’t to last, however, fans are allowed to react however they want to. Let’s not turn on each other for dealing with the ups and downs of the football rollercoaster in different ways. Let’s not make judgements about where people place Norwich City among their priorities. It’s a game at the end of the day, and we’re all fans. If you’re still reading, you must be a pretty big Norwich fan. You are one of us and I am one of you.