“You’re not a football fan!”

That was the accusation put my way this morning on a social media advert for my book from somebody I’ve never met.

He publicly declared he will be “avoiding my book”.

The accuser didn’t like the way I’d described my book and deduced that I am not a soccer supporter. That soccer part was a joke.

As somebody who spent most of my youth playing, watching and talking about football, then took up coaching, then took a massive punt to get into the game late, then worked a little in the professional game and now has written a book based in the game, the accusation got a rise of anger from me.

Then I realised the person at the other end of the keyboard knows none of that.

Then I thought a little further on it.

Maybe even if they knew all of that, they still wouldn’t class me as a football fan.

My football isn’t your football.

The game means something different to each and every one of us.

Whilst many of our definitions of what football is and what it means to us will share commonalities, some of them will completely differ.

I have met die-hard season ticket holders who’ve never kicked a ball. How can you really know anything about a game you haven’t played?

I’ve met people who love to play but don’t watch. How can you claim to love a game and not be interested in the very best at it?

I’ve met people who love to watch but don’t follow a specific team. You can’t be a real fan without investing in a team and suffering its lows.

I’ve met people who rarely go to live games. How can you call yourself a fan?

I’ve met people who call the game . . . soccer. Pah!

At points, I imagine most of us have looked at other peoples’ relationships with the game as lesser than our own. We’re all capable of snobbery. Sometimes it’s even fun. It’s partly why people love goading opposition fans. You call that a team?

Moments of private snobbery are fine - we are not robots - and there’s nothing wrong with some playful tribalism.

The public snobbery and more aggressive tribalism, where people try to directly impact others, is what I take issue with. Unfortunately, behaviour like this seems to be endemic in these times

You’re either with me or against me and your position holds no value whatsoever.

These things are exacerbated by the detachment and anonymity offered by the internet.

Where I can understand degrees of aggression being used when direct competition is afoot - when my stance directly impacts yours and . . .

You know what? As I was just writing this, a penny has dropped.

I get this guy’s hostility towards the book.

I have written something a review described as “a terrific read, bold, challenging . . .” What I alluded to in the text that the accuser commented on probably threatens his very sense of what football is, directly competing with his world view.

The easiest thing to do was to write off the book as rubbish by somebody who doesn’t know the game; who isn’t a fan of it.

But I do know the game. And I love it.

All our fandoms may indeed be different.

But I most certainly am a fan.

Arton James