The miserable lie
06/11/05 | by Nick Miller

I wasn’t at the Weymouth game and to be honest I’m very, very glad I wasn’t. From all accounts it was a pretty shocking performance, but the thing that stuck out from my customary post match forum browsing was the thread entitled ‘Megson Not Too Happy With Supporters’.

In case you missed it, this particular thread claimed that the Ginger Man reacted to some A Block bleating by turning around and saying ‘F***ing t**ts’, to which inevitably some of our ‘supporters’ got their knickers in a terrible twist over.

I’ve never understood why players are accused of incitement if they do so much as look at the crowd a bit funny – I had no idea football fans were so sensitive that they will immediately riot when their ever-so-delicate sensibilities are offended. In any case, it’s something of a double standard given that we think nothing of hurling language that would make a pimp blush when we’re riled at the City Ground.

Aside from the fact that, considering the abuse that all footballers and managers get, Megson’s was a fairly reserved response, to me this typified the consistent irritant that has plagued my Forest watching over the past fifteen or so years; the not so silent minority that I like to call the Miserables.

I don’t know whether this is a disease that all football fans have, or whether it is something that just afflicts Forest, but why are we so reactionary, fickle and downright miserable?

I’m aware that we’ve currently got a fair amount to be miserable about, but forgetting our present plight for a second, Forest fans – at least the ones that used to sit near me (Clough Stand Upper, block L, rows 6 & 7) – have always moaned and bleated for no justifiable reason. 

There was the fellow who would start a slow handclap whenever two passes went astray. There was the chap who memorably claimed that Bryan Roy – on his day, one of the most graceful and skilful players I’ve seen in the Garibaldi – couldn’t ‘pass wind’. And then there are the two lovely old gits (a father and son duo I believe) simply known as ‘The Racists’ – for very obvious reasons – who still found it necessary to berate David Johnson all throughout the play-off season, despite his 29-goal haul. 

Maybe the last guys are just bigoted, rather than struck with the miserable football disease, but I wonder why these people bother. Why, after shelling out a hefty chunk of change to watch the game – not to mention giving up a precious Saturday – do the Miserables insist on ensuring they have a thoroughly rubbish time by whinging for an hour and a half? 

In Fever Pitch, Nick Hornby said that a football game was the only form of public entertainment where you can expect not to enjoy yourself and get very angry about it all. To me, getting worked up and angry is passion – a somewhat more constructive way of showing you care, and there is an important difference between anger and whining. And therein lies the difference between a football fan and a Miserable. 

When Forest aren’t playing well, then of course everybody gets angry. We’ve doled out plenty of cash, but more importantly time, energy and commitment to support our team, and if we don’t like what we see then inevitably we’re going to be annoyed. However, I’ve known Forest to get booed off the park when we’re drawing. That’s drawing – scores level – not losing. How exactly do the people that boo in this situation think that it will be constructive? 

I’ll let you in on a secret I’ve picked up from my relatively few years following Forest – Booing Does Not Work. If a team already has fragile confidence (and the amount of money you earn does not affect this, before the ‘overpaid prima donnas’ argument is wheeled out again), then what do you think 20,000 people booing them is going to do? They have to expect criticism, but not humiliation.

So the simple message to the Miserables is: get behind Forest. How many times have you seen a team spurred on by a sudden rise in encouragement? Why do you think that the more passionately-supported teams (Newcastle, Liverpool, et al) have a far superior home record than they do away? It’s time for us to do our bit. 

I’ll end with a quote from the message board from the venerable Winnits, otherwise known as LTLF Writer of the Year Alan Fisher, which sums up the past 700-odd words very nicely: “During the game we should be putting the support back into supporters."