“I Was Told To Shut Up, I Knew Too Much For A Girl”.

Stella. Half time pie. Beer belly. Replica shirt emblazoned with ‘Gary’. Foul mouth.Thierry Mugler – Angel. Fizzy spring water. Homemade sandwich. Toned tummy. Stella McCartney coat. Foul Mouth.Surely they aren’t the same breed? Well actually, yes.I can almost hear the inward breath, the snigger of disbelief. One’s a girl though. Well, move into the 21st century I say. Just because I don’t have a penis doesn’t mean I can’t like the f- word. And by that I do mean football.The typical football fan conjures images of the beer-guzzling thug as described above. Of course, the latter would feel completely out of place on the terraces, apart from her foul mouth. Well that’s me, and I’m not going to say I’m ashamed.Like many women around the country, I make up the 15% of football match attendees that are female. You would be interested to learn us lesser beings have done so since the 1880’s…and we do know the offside rule.So why do I get such a strange reaction when I tell people I’m a lifelong Man United fan? Why do I have blokes giving me a double take when I find my seat at Old Trafford? And even worse, when I join in with the various filthy chants that fill the terraces.I agree that my liking of all things designer might be more at home in the WAGs stand, not the heart of the Stretford End. I do look around me at times and notice my fellow females are either so close to being a bloke you can almost see their stubble, or are desperately hanging onto their goons of boyfriends, they clearly haven’t noticed the drunk Mancunian shouting “come on you bunch of idiots” behind them, let alone what’s happening on the pitch below. I’m in the minority and I know it, but I’m equally as entitled to love the beautiful game as the bloke next to me.It’s in my blood I think – I’m the third generation Man United fan in my family. Ask me if I’m a glory supporter and you’ll get the response you deserve – “No I’m bloody not”. I love all things Robbie Williams, Dirty Dancing and Vogue. I love all things Man U at the same time, and I know my stuff.The offside rule is the typical test. Don’t patronise the knowledgeable female fan with the salt, pepper and ketchup analogy. It really isn’t that hard to get that if the attacker is in front of the last defender when the pass is made he’s offside. Ask the “Yeah, I’m a Chelsea fan” bloke and he will probably look as clueless as Posh Spice would.Watching Match of the Day with a male friend I was told to “shut up, you know too much football for a girl” after shouting, “he was miles offside” at the television only moments before. I, of course, can’t have enough intelligence to actually understand football…I can see why men become protective over a day at the footy with the lads. The entire culture surrounding football is an English institution, and it’s the male breed that is at the forefront. Football matches are notorious breeding grounds for beer filled 20 something blokes on a day out to prove they are macho and that they don’t really have the brain of an amoeba and a cocktail sausage inside their trousers (or that the latter is completely true, but irrelevant…). The flip side is the doting father taking their sons to see their heroes (and the son’s heroes too…). Male dominated game, male dominated fan base.The primary reason for this is the fact that going ‘to the footy’ is manly. It’s cool. You can show off to your mates down the pub about the hilarious antics in the pub before and after. Wearing a loud polyester shirt with your favourite player on might actually transform you into them. Being seen chanting “Fuck off Leeds/ Arsenal/ Chelsea” is so masculine. The football fan is the alpha male…in a beta male’s eyes.It goes further than just going to the match. The whole culture means the football fan is expected to carry out extra curricular activities such as watching the highlights on BBC1 at 10.30 p.m despite seeing the goals in person and in the pub after, participating in abuse towards the enemy (i.e. those that don’t follow your darling team) and playing in the pub league with your mates (believing it is as important as the cup final). It’s a job for a bloke. It’s a way of life that becomes difficult to get out of.As for us females, it’s slightly less important. We don’t actually feel we have anything to prove by standing on the terraces. No pressure. No lifestyle change. It’s just pure passion and enjoyment. We might be stereotyped as a ladette, or judged as being inferior, but it’s about the football for us, nothing else.I’m not stereotyping all males here. In my many experiences of football crowds, I’ve come across men showing various reactions towards me. There are those that continue to ‘fuck’ and ‘shit’ at every turn regardless of female presence. It’s not necessarily that I believe they should be completely different, a little more abstained maybe. There are those that are lecherous and thoroughly enjoy the pair of tits accompanying their day out. And then there are those that feel it is their duty to protect and look after you. Having a girl in their midst instantly makes some men more refrained, stopping their foul mouths running away with them too much. They will strike up a conversation about whether Sir Alex is on the same planet or how the ref must need to go to Specsavers. It’s that small minority that actually makes me feel human. They see me as an equal (all be it an equal that would prefer they only swore when singing their hearts out with the other 70,000 people in the crowd), and my opinion doesn’t fall on deaf ears.I pay great attention to the annual football banning order figures. These aim to stop the thugs and criminals that have given football fans a bad reputation over the past 60 or so years. I found it utterly shocking to learn of the sheer number of such bans that were handed out last season. How many were female I found myself asking? Either that or how many of these hooligans went to the football in mixed sex groups? Because if you examine the evidence closely I’m sure you’d find it was a big fat zero. Why? Walking down United Road I never feel threatened. There’s the inevitable shock at the foul, often openly racist language, but I’m never scared. I believe it’s the age-old protection thing coming to the surface of apparently heartless, tough men. I’m a girl, there a certain things you just don’t say in front of a girl. It’s taught to them from a young age. It’s reassuring to see that a small percentage of men have remembered what they learnt as a boy…and not just how to make that farting noise under their arms.What really is the travesty amongst this topic is the female of the species’ willingness to play the meagre, ignorant and clueless character. Too often do I hear the fatal words “I don’t have a clue about football. It’s boring. It’s a man’s game”. We fight for equality everywhere else, and most of the time succeed at winning it. Why make football the exception? I’m not some feminist, campaigning at every turn and shouting how sexist society is, but I would quite like to see girls loving what I love about football, not just Ashley Cole’s muscular thighs and cute smile.My best friend is the perfect example of such a being. Her plain ignorance and vocal slating of football never ceases to amaze me. She’s a firm believer in equality, but no one berates me more than she does for my love of United. I feel like a criminal at times when saying, “I can’t come on Saturday, it’s Man U v Liverpool”. If she actually watched a full 90 minutes in the Theatre of Dreams, the passion, the excitement and the sheer brilliance would certainly captivate her mind and change her opinion. It’s just she’s not prepared to let it. She’s like many women up and down the country, across the world – scared to break the mould, fight the taboo and go against society. Isn’t it about time we did?So despite my feelings of discontent with how my love for football is perceived, I really will be United ‘til I die. I’ll willingly discuss with my girlfriends how gorgeous Lampard, Becks and co are (as I write I am being watched by a magazine cutting of a topless Ronaldo – it’s only a bonus he happens to be ‘drop dead’ as well as dynamite on the pitch). Take me next door with the lads and I’ll willingly discuss the transfer market and just why United will win the league.”H’ shut up was he offside. And you know that was a free kick fair and square” is what I long to hear from the same guy that told me I knew too much about football. Give it a while and it might happen. The slight smirk accompanying it might never disappear. Well, what does he know? He’s a Charlton fan after all…”

( Wessex Scene.co.uk )