itchy stiches and sunshine

Another footballing Saturday is here again and all of Barcelona is whispering "welcome home Cesc" only whispering mind still not 100% confirmed!

Here is another "Letters from Barcelona" from last seasons match day Prog.

I am hoping for another footballing saturday in the sun with my almost healed very itchy stiches from an ankle op, Twitter and whatever match coverage I can get. Good luck John and the boys.

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October 2010

 Letters from Barcelona

People talk about football widows and the hard life they have playing second fiddle on every match day to 22 men and a wee white ball. But spare a thought for those football widowers, the men who have to compete with 22 men and a wee ball every match day.

Football has always been a big part of my life for a long time. I loved playing it a school, loved watching it in the park and really loved watching it from the terraces. But it was not my dad who would take me, it was mum. Dad does like a good football match but mum LOVES it. For years we had a season ticket, car pooled to away matches, I would go to any match I could. I never thought it weird that a woman could be a football fan.

Then I left Fife for university in Glasgow. I had to study in university on Saturdays so and had to say bye bye to my season ticket, my life of football as I knew it. I however could still be found in the common room at half time with my Raith Rovers tea cup waiting for the scores and the same at half time. It was at uni that I ran into my first bitter football widow, “oh god how can you watch that rubbish”, “oh no not football on the tele again”. I was slowly starting to feel a little weird about being a female football fan.

Upon leaving uni I  had to work every weekend. But still would be found with a radio or T.V near by on a Saturday. But what made this strange was the complete lack of women doing the same thing and the looks of “how can she be letting the side down” that were thrown.

By now I have got used to my minority status and am proud of it! Here in Spain, at least in Catalonia, football is assumed to be something for everyone to get excited about.  I remember going to watch the Champions league final at a party. Twice as many guys as girls, sure, but that was more than I had seen in ages. I have never come across the totally anti- football attitude in women, here at least not as a matter of female pride and women sticking together to stop football.

But how do you get more women into football? After all that is another bum on a seat on a Saturday, another scarf bought.  I think starting it young. Here in Barcelona, the club is more than just a club it has a sense of nationalism. All kids have something, a pencil case, Barcelona slippers and even Barcelona batteries for you camera. True, they do have a lot of merchandise and deep down you know it is all designed to make parents part with the notes, but they do have something for everyone at a price for everyone.

Maybe we should be thinking about his and her Raith Rover thermals for the winter?