Hooked on football

They say a week can be a long time in football. That phrase is wrong. A long time in football is the 97 day drought fans of football league clubs are made to endure between May and August every year. Saturdays that should be spent in the caff, at the pub, at the game, and back at the pub again (In precisely that order) are instead spent in dark, depressing places. Places like B&Q, shopping centres and supermarkets are all examples of the evil, Saturday stealing days that pre-season brings.

After being starved of the beautiful game for 14 of the longest weeks of my life, Saturday 8th August finally rolled around.

Going through the turnstiles, past The Blue and White bar up the stairs, past the food kiosk, climbing another flight of stairs and taking my seat, I felt the electricity flowing through me like a highly charged current.

The voltage going through my body was increased even further by the poignant minute’s applause for legend of the English game, Sir Bobby Robson. I never met or knew Bobby so I will leave the detailed tributes to those lucky enough to have known him. What I will say is that though Sir Bob never really had much of a connection to QPR, his stint as England boss as well as his bubbly nature and tactical nous ensured that he will be a figure not forgotten in a very long time by football fans across not only England but the whole world. A headline from The Guardian shortly after Robson’s death referred to him as “The heart English football’s had on its sleeve”. That just about sums up Sir Bob for me.

Anyway, back to the Rangers’ and the moment finally came. 3:00PM. The start of the R’s 2009/10 campaign.

Despite a promising start, with wingers Angelo Balanta and Wayne Routledge looking menacing, Rangers’ could not make their superiority tell, thanks in part to the heroics of Seasiders’ keeper Paul Rachubka.

I was eager for the R’s to grab that first goal, but as football can have a habit of doing, Blackpool broke away and with only their 2nd attempt at goal, took the lead thanks to ex-Brentford forward Ben Burgess.

Half-time came and I felt let down. For 14 weeks I’d been waiting for a goal, the chance to lose myself in the delight of QPR hitting the back of the net, and my wait was being increasingly extended.

Sometimes it just doesn’t look like being your day, and this scenario was looking increasingly likely as the second half wore on. Rachubka continued his virtuoso performance in goal, somehow clawing Fitz Hall’s header away from under his own crossbar. Balanta rattled the post before loanee Adel Taarabt’s again tested Rachubka, deciding somewhat greedily to ignore team mates better placed.

Rangers’ brought the big guns off the bench in a bid to salvage at least something and when two of the substitues combined and Patrick Agyemang brilliantly found Rowan Vine 5 minutes from time, I, along with many others in the P block of the Upper Loft, found myself out of my seat in anticipation. It was all in vain though, as Vine spurned a fantastic chance from no more than 8 yards out, dragging his shot wide of Rachubka.

Feeling as deflated as a beach ball involved in a particularly nasty confrontation with a nail, I sank back into my seat and resigned myself to another season of promise ruined by a lack of goals.

The 11 on the pitch though, had thankfully not given up. Peter Ramage, a player who has really endeared himself to me because of his determination to improve throughout last season, despite the booing and jeering he found himself subjected to from a small number of Superhoops fans, delivered a cross that eluded everybody.

And then it was 1-1. Looking at the goal, back to Ramage, who by this stage was turned towards R block with his arms outstretched, and back at the goal again, the sheer ecstasy of the goal hit me even harder than my friend’s right hook, who in his delight at the equaliser, had inadvertently (allegedly) caught me with a punch that would have made Ricky Hatton proud.

It’s nigh on impossible to explain the feeling of an important goal to someone with no interest in football (and believe me I’ve tried). But everybody who follows the beautiful game will know just how powerful the release of emotion is when your team stick one past the opposition ‘keeper.

As the blood trickled down my face, Rangers’ continued to hammer away at Blackpool, who were finding themselves more on the ropes than in the 87 minutes previous. Despite the roar the 5 minutes stoppage time brought from the R’s faithful, the knock-out punch was frustratingly not to be found and the game ended 1-1.

If the game had been a boxing match, there’s no doubt that despite a resilient, gutsy performance typical of former Rangers’ boss Ian Holloway, the Superhoops would easily have won on points.

I’ve never felt the urge for a cigarette myself, but as I walked out into Loftus Road at about 5:00PM, I felt akin to a smoker finally getting their first puff on a fag after a long train journey.

The football season is finally back, and like that smoker enjoying their first cigarette in a long time, I’m hooked all over again.