WHAT is the single greatest sight in football? Is it the wide-eyed ecstasy etched across the face of a teenage striker as he bags the winner on debut? Is it your own father's tears as his team finally wins something? Fabian Schär? Well, I'd make the case for a much less obvious choice, one that we've all seen a dozen times over, but gets no less intoxicating with each viewing.
Yes, it's the mesmerising, almost musical, sight of a celebrating away fan breaking through a wall of disinterested stadium safety officers and bounding over a patch of empty seats towards the home end, only to stop halfway, swing their fists a bit, then tiptoe back to safety, head bowed. It's a bewitching thing. If you're a neutral, stowed away amongst the locals, there is nothing quite like it. It's strange, it's dangerous... This is the beautiful game.
But to whom do we owe the pleasure? Of course, the fans themselves deserve much of the credit, but the real MVP remains that strip of vacated seats between home and away fans. Without it, we're left with mere hollering and hand gestures which, though entertaining, fall short in their ability to totally and immediately strip someone of their ego, all without removing the smile from their face.
You've surely seen them before, that blank band at many mid-level professional grounds. Some call it No Man's Stand, others The Corridor of Indignity. I've even heard it dubbed The Halfwit Collider, but for the purposes of this piece, it will be referred to only as The Who-Are-Ya Trench, so deep is my affection for the sweet, sweet black spot, so thankful am I for the clearest collision of drama and comedy to be found outside of misinterpreted satirical tweets.
This story is from the January - February 2025 edition of Late Tackle Football Magazine.
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This story is from the January - February 2025 edition of Late Tackle Football Magazine.
Start your 7-day Magzter GOLD free trial to access thousands of curated premium stories, and 9,000+ magazines and newspapers.
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