For some time now I've half expected the family to land on the doorstep for a "surprise" intervention. Now the Sky Blues are seeing blue skies again and for the moment, at least, the dark clouds of futility have parted. As John Lennon was fond of saying, nobody ever told me there'd be days like these.
I know interventions are usually reserved for cases of extreme self-destructive behaviours; gambling, alcoholism, addiction to internet porn. After some reflection I think we can add football to that list.
Let's face it, following the A-League comes with all the dangers of a two-pack a day habit. It's not just Big Tobacco that should be slapped with a government health warning.
Too many of us are sent out into the terraces with stars in our eyes and rocks in our heads. Just take a seat, wave a scarf above your head and then line up for the bus home, right? No one tells you that come the final whistle you might actually want to throw yourself under it. Well that's how it's pretty much felt since this season kicked off.
Football has long been a threat to body and soul - and that's just in the support bays. The list of ailments afflicting fans gives new meaning to the term diehard. First there's Post Tournament Depression (PTD) - British football fans are particularly susceptible. Then there's "End of Season Affective Disorder" leaving fans listless, moody and empty. On top of that is any number of match day lurgies. Back in 2003 Hunter Davies wrote in the New Statesman: "I used to get hellish earache when watching Spurs, from grinding my teeth and clenching my jaw."
Just watching a game can kill you. The incidence of heart attack escalates during high stakes matches. A study by the University of Birmingham concluded that penalty shootouts present a significant risk to public health. Trawling through back issues of Sports Psychology I found this little gem under the disturbing title - Clues to Avid Rooting:
"Some researchers have found that fervent fans become so tied to their teams that they experience hormonal surges and other physiological changes while watching games, much as the athletes do."
Hormonal and physiological changes? Don't get me wrong, I'll do melancholy, relentless despair and even roll up my sleeves for a shot of misery, but I draw the line at facial hair!
It's a bitter thing to watch your team flatlining. Non-footballing friends have no idea. Good thing it's just a game, they say. Just a game? Tiddlywinks is just a game. Remember the old saying this is going to hurt me more than it hurts you? Supporters should remind their teams of this fact everytime they limp off the field after another drubbing. Nick Hornby famously wrote that the natural state of the football fan is bitter disappointment. If only it were that easy.
At the moment Reds and Roar fans are breathing the alpine air at the top of the ladder but both have supped from the cup of anguish. The Jets have gone totally bipolar this season. Perth's hopes of achieving glory are quickly evaporating and we all know the trials and tribulations engulfing Fury.
All of which got me thinking about membership packages, how relevant are they? Do we really need another complimentary supporter's cap? Why not an anti-stress guide or a hotline number in case of keeper error? Yes, yes, lanyards are nice but what I wouldn't give for a bottle of mood stabilisers just to take the edge off another pizzling performance. Here's your seat, your program and your pills - don't forget to save a few for the injury time capitulation.
I want a three-step program that shows me how to leave the game after another pasting and make it to the front door with something resembling dignity.
Sure they'll check your bag for flares and projectiles but who's there to remove the sharp implements when you wake in the middle of the night with a crushing bout of PTGD (Post Traumatic Game Disorder)? One minute you're flying so high you're in danger of getting deep vein thrombosis the next your hurtling towards earth with only a bumper sticker to break the fall. Your one hope is that you land on that ##$%! defence and take one for the team.
Studies show that fans of winning teams feel more successful, desirable, accomplished and athletic even if their only exertion is pressing the replay button on their team's latest triumph. Does that mean fans of losing teams feel like crap? Yep. Glory fans reportedly chanted "we're shit and we're sick of it" after their team went down to Sydney.
Even so, there's a certain dogged pride in following your boys into the dark abyss of a losing season knowing in all likelihood you'll emerge wearing nothing but the wooden spoon. There's no shame in going down with a ship the rats are deserting, quite the contrary. Right now Sydney seems as popular as a booger sandwich (Gold Coast should be so lucky). Crowd numbers at Glory fixtures are dipping dangerously following a six-game slump. But for those who stay the course there's honour to be found in sticking with your club through foul and fair. It's a rite of passage for every true fan. It's the one thing that defines us as the real deal. These are the seasons we have to have in order to fully appreciate those we could only dream about. Well that's what I'm telling myself.
You'll always get people who show up like party favours when the going's good but a true fan recognises it's a marriage of sorts, lasting beyond all reason, rationality and hope and, apparently, even sickness and in death.
