Being Swiss is boring

This was inspired by a couple of events, first a thread on The Hockey Forum about fans behaviour and the various "he did this to me, well he did that to you" tit for tat but also by a conversation I had with Tambo at the recent GB U-20s championship, when tired after a week of hockey, we sat down and reminisced about the fun times of the ISL and the delights of Cheddar biscuits.

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Try watching a game as a neutral.

The other week, I watched Steelers/Panthers at the House of Rust. Great atmosphere, great game. But when the two teams were stood at the blue lines to start the game, I was hurting inside. Because my team were not there. And for ten minutes, my thoughts were "Wish the Phoenix were here" or "By God, I've missed this".

Although I was sat in the Panthers blocks, I realised that I didn't really care too much for the result. And because I hadn't invested anything in either team, I could look upon events fairly dispassionately. Guess what?

Nobody was perfect.

There were a significant minority of Steeler fans acting like arrogant, petulant idiots. And an equally significant number of Panthers fans reacting, or starting equally petulantly. It was kind of funny to see grown men and women acting like children and overreacting to behaviour that normally they wouldn't even blink at.

I wouldn't have minded being one of them, because it would have meant my team was there.

A conversation later went something along the lines of:-

Him:- "The ref is a bloody nightmare."
Me:- "I think he's calling it well, actually."
Him:- "Never called that boarding."
Me:- "True. But he missed it when your fella almost took that guys head off."
Him:- "Didn't see it, mate."

I was watching the game with both eyes, seeing the good play and misdemeanours on both sides. It was funny to see - and to point it out knowing they couldn't accuse me of bias.

I wouldn't have minded being biased like them, because it would have meant my team was there.

After Steelers had edged the game in OT and the Panthers fans wondered what might have been, I walked amid the throng. And there were some jubiliant - and aggressive - shouts from the Steeler fans towards Nottingham and some defiant retorts from Panthers, using language that would make people write angry letters to newspapers and overblown postings on forums but wouldn't even blink at in everyday life.

I wouldn't have minded joining in, because it would have meant my team was there.

My point is this - I've got to spend an entire season reading match reports from games, about last second winners, dodgy keepers, nasty injuries, "our goon is tougher than your goon", what Dave Simms said this week... and I think:-

You lucky bastards.

Because you try living without it. You try living without the pettiness, the name-calling, the bragging rights when you win, the despair when you lose, spitting feathers at Simms (lets be honest, like all hate figures, if he didn't exist, you'd have to invent him). Next time your team scores a winner in the dying minutes, try simply applauding instead of leaping out of your seat in sheer unadulterated delight... because that is what some of us have to do.

Being childish and petty about hockey is fans should be. A hockey game should be a release from the drudgery of school or the petty hassles of work. We should delight in cheering and booing like stupid little children because that is what makes following sport such fun. Gloat, moan, whatever, as long as it is done with some sensitivity, just do it. Nothing is worse than watching some wonderful piece of skill ending in a goal and having to clap politely. Or not being able to laugh when the opposition netminder juggles the puck into his own net.

I miss those emotions terribly. Ask anyone who saw me at a Phoenix game last year, standing at the back of one of the blocks, pacing, worrying, fretting, shouting, screaming, cheering. When Phoenix beat London 3-1, I think, with an empty netter, at the back of 114 there were two grown men hugging each other in sheer delight. It feels wonderful to care. Passionately, deeply, about something that ultimately is just a game.

Anyone who has been around long enough know that Ronnie Nichol and I get on like cats in a sack, we'd argue black was white if it made a point - but I tell you what, I reckon he is like me - itching to get back to arguing about what Ayr did to Manchester (and vice versa) like in the good old days. It is much more fun to needle and moan about the Ayr team than it is to sit back and have to come to terms with the absence of one.

So next time you put finger to keyboard moaning about how a fan of Team X looked at you funny and how this means that nothing short of a nuclear device going off would repay the slight upon your very soul, just remember, at least you have got the chance.

For you, there is always the next game.