British snobs and stick-wielding police officers in mainland Europe have something in common. Both share a low opinion of English football fans. The cliché says that football is a gentleman’s game played by hooligans, the opposite of rugby. Truly, this cartoon belongs to another era. English football has been refined in the process of becoming the most popular cultural form in the world. Now, over a million people watch football matches every week in the UK, with very few problems given the sheer numbers. But there are nagging fears that the game has lost its soul along the way.
Today (March 22), Arsenal will play Manchester City at Wembley Stadium in the League Cup Final. it MUST feels like a triumphal parade for one country where football is better quality and more popular globally than anywhere else in the world. Pubs across the country will be packed with happy fans. Wembley’s facilities make it one of the most popular for international tournaments. But there is a growing sense of concern at the summit of the English game that the spirit inside the stadiums is deteriorating.
Even the players are beginning to sense that something is wrong. Last weekend Liverpool midfielder Dominik Szoboszlai spoke to the media after his side conceded a disappointing late goal at home to Tottenham. “I don’t think it helps us that after 80 minutes people start going home, it doesn’t help us at all,” said the Hungarian. “Everyone is noticing it and when we concede a goal, people are still leaving the stadium – you don’t leave when we score. I understand the frustration … but we need them, we need them all.”
Szoboszlai has a point. Tickets are more expensive than ever, but fans also seem less invested than ever. Premier League stadiums are becoming quieter and more likely to empty in the latter stages of the game as people rush to beat the traffic. It may seem curious, but it makes sense when you consider that the new popularity of the game is changing the makeup of who is inside the stadiums. Clubs continue to add hospitality venues to make money. English football risks eating itself, as the gritty authenticity that made it popular is repackaged and sold at inflated prices, forcing out the old-school fans who helped build the very identity that is now so commercially valuable around the world. I watched Aston Villa beat Lille on Thursday night to reach the quarter-finals of the Europa League. Due to high prices, 5000 seats remained empty. The glow of the victory in the morning was spoiled when the details of the next match against Bologna were announced: price increases again.
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Surprisingly, this sentiment is also true at Szoboszlai’s club, Liverpool. Its stadium, Anfield, is one of the most passionate and historic in the country, and has seen as much glory and sorrow as any other. It is where a club repeatedly conquered England and Europe in the 1970s and 1980s, while the city around it was going through chaos, strikes and economic decline. Then 97 fans were unlawfully killed at Hillsborough. Despite the club’s global size, it has a very cohesive local identity. In recent times, teams inspired by the raucous atmosphere at Anfield have powered the club to several trophies under manager Jürgen Klopp. Attempts by American owners to raise ticket prices in 2016 were abandoned after a mass walkout, a truly rare example of the kind of fan power that is common in continental Europe.
There is almost never an empty seat at Anfield, but complaints are growing that the famous atmosphere is being eroded by “tourists” and “day-trippers”, as has long been the concern at other top English stadiums, particularly in London. Like other forms of tourism, if too many people seek authenticity, it can damage the very culture the visitor wants to see. This is true in overcrowded Mediterranean villages that no longer look as picturesque as they do on Instagram. It’s also true at Anfield, if “You’ll Never Walk Alone” begins to be sung more and more quietly because many in the crowd don’t know the words by heart.
Loud stadiums are also a critical part of the Premier League’s global appeal and why the game looks and sounds good on TV. They also genuinely help teams win; Home advantage but disappeared during Covid. But the demand and price of tickets makes it harder for local fan choirs to get into the stadium, let alone sit together and coordinate a song. In Argentina or Germany, organized groups of fans stick together, lead the chant for 90 minutes regardless of the result and few people leave early, despite the fact that the standard of football is lower than in England.
What can be done? Financial rules could be rewritten to reduce the incentive for clubs to continually raise prices if they want to compete on the pitch. If that doesn’t happen, fans can take a leaf from supporters abroad and get organized, voting with their wallets and feet.
The phenomenal popularity of English football is something to celebrate. But there has to be a way to enjoy success without spoiling the atmosphere. Because if the stadiums are silent, they can no longer scream.
(Further reading: Looking at the best team of the British league on Sunday)
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