Let us face it, the world is awash with opinion. The football world in particular.
Over the last number of years the number of blogs, social commentators, mediums for streaming, for discussion, the unprecedented rise of ‘banter‘ as a seemingly acceptable cloak for throwing derogatory and insulting terms at others and the ever evolving nature of corporate public relations with regards to football clubs can become a bit suffocating.
I say that without a hint of irony. I contribute to TEB every couple of weeks and found myself this week struggling to find topics that had not already been played out to death on social media. Pardew, nostalgia, transfer window hopes and dreams, injury worries, match previews, outgoings. The list is endless.
This post you are reading now was meant to be here 24 hours ago, but I will admit, I was lost for words. Well at least in the sense of wanting to contribute something resembling a fresh thought to a sea of repetition.
Then along came Paddy Power. The all-seeing, omnipotent bookmaker whose hearty doses of banter and vulgarity manage to symbolise everything that is wrong with the modern game. Bravo guys. You have managed to turn what was and still is a legitimate grievance of global football fans into a cynical money-making scheme for yourselves, while also lining the pocket of your hired French goon Ginola.
While you count the retweets and clock up Twitter miles, it remains business as usual for those fans passionate enough to ignore your arrogant overtures and heightened sense of self importance in the football world.
It also remains business as usual for the fat-cats in Zurich, who I am sure will not be worried about your proposed coup d’état, as Ginola’s spectacular ignorance and lack of knowledge on the issues at the heart of football governance that are casting such a shadow on our game will hardly strike fear in their hearts. Not that you care, though. The assembling of willing hacks to pour fuel on your fire is exactly what you wanted.
There are enough blogs and papers covering this issue, and probably much more eloquently than I ever could, but this sorry debacle this morning did allow me a moment of reflection in light of the great result at Selhurst last week. It made me thankful that, despite a few flaws (namely the ill-fated Neteller exclusive in August), Palace are fortunate to have a renewed sense of pride and heart running through the club. From the very top to the very bottom.
Being at Selhurst for Pardew’s first league game in charge truly was an inspiring occasion. As a collective, we were reinvigorated. We were in unison once again, after a gloomy few months peering through our fingers as Warnock stumbled and grumbled his way to Christmas.
Selhurst, in all its unashamed glory, was decked in colour, colourful voices, colourful characters and colourful players. Players with a connection to the club that goes beyond a signing on fee and a long term contract.
There is Speroni. A club legend through the hard times, the harder times and now the good times. Maintaining form, dignity and commitment all the while. Delaney, reduced to tears following a grueling promotion season that almost never was for him given his troubles finding a club before Palace. A man who nearly walked away from the game, only to find a club who offered him a platform to grow into a leader that he himself probably never envisaged him being at this level. A colossus. His passion is clear.
With local lads, Wilf and Puncheon, tearing an expensively assembled Spurs side to shreds, in front of a crowd of fans who have seen struggles like few other clubs have in recent years. A glance to the bench alongside Pardew, the lionhearted Keith Millen. Another local whose commitment to the football club over the last two years has been equally as pivotal to those who he has subsequently been number two to.
The feelings of delight permeated throughout Selhurst last Saturday. From the strangers embracing each other after the winner, to the pride that every Palace fan took home with them, took to work with them this week. It is by remembering how lucky we are as a football community to have what is in front of us every week, in the manner it currently is, that you can remove yourself from all that is horrible about football elsewhere.
Next up is Burnley. For Palace and Burnley fans, there is no bigger game in Europe this weekend. We go into it proud of what we have seen developing over the last days, weeks and months at this football club.
Elsewhere, Blatter will be gone eventually. David Ginola will not be his successor. Soon, the Paddy Power star will fade, the bookmaker’s influence on football commentary with it. What will remain at Palace is the sense of community that is indestructible and irreplaceable.
That is something I will get behind. That is something we can all get behind, as the circus spins itself into frenzy in Twitterville.
