True Football

Sometimes the best kind of football isn’t found at places like Stamford Bridge or Old Trafford. Sometimes you need to go beyond flashy passing, and blistering speed to find the true soul of English football. It might take a little effort, and open-mindedness, but, it’s worth it for the experience. I saw into the soul of English football last night, at a little stadium called Underhill, in a little neighbourhood called Barnet, where a little team called the Bees showed me what true football really is. Barnet F.C. is currently in League Two, of the Coca Cola Football League. That’s the fourth division. A full 82 places behind Chelsea in the standings. They won’t be winning FA Cup Finals or making the trip to Europe anytime soon. But, based on what I saw, Barnet and its fans only need to go as far as Underhill Stadium for passionate soccer.

After a confusing walk around the stadium and a quick stop in the club shop, which was more of a trailer than a megastore, I took my seat in the main stand. I expected to feel suffering. The Bees were in the bottom half of the lowest division of league football. What more could fans do than slowly suffer with their team? But after sitting among the supporters for a few minutes, I realized that you don’t come to a Barnet game unless you really love Barnet. And the fact that the Bees were in the spot that they were gave fans the rare ability to make light of the situation.

I sat amongst a group of older gentlemen took full advantage of this luxury. I could easily tell that they were Barnet “lifers”, men who had the spirit of the Bees running through their blood. I could also tell this because they were some of the loudest hecklers in the stadium that night. Jeering at the referee and calling opposing players “Fatty”, the men sarcastically and wittily cheered on Barnet all night. With comments that had better timing than a perfect run, I was quietly chuckling to myself all night, amused at their jokes and impressed with their attitude.

The football wasn’t perfect. No, it was far from perfect. There were countless errant passes, poor touches and miscommunications. But it was genuine. And when Barnet put two goals in the back of the net, my compatriot’s cheering was just as genuine.