Living Freedom alumnus Jack Kelsall argues that the sanitisation of football chants and paraphernalia is a free-speech issue, too.
The year is 2012. I’ve just turned six years old, and my team, Birmingham City, draw 2-2 with Blackpool in the second leg of a Championship play-off semi-final. And on that May night, I learn, whether I know it or not, two equally valuable lessons about life. One being that the away goals rule is incredibly cruel, and second, that it’s fun to hear thirty thousand people shout ‘WANKER!’ at one man.
And because of this, I grew up to become a loud, opinionated presence on the terraces of my football club. Much of that was thanks to the freedom football supporters had to speak their minds, however offensive, impulsive or off-the-cuff their chants, shouts and exclamations might have been. By the time I became a teenager, I had heard just about every imaginable – and often impressively creative – criticism it is possible to level at someone you don’t like. But that, of course, didn’t suddenly turn me into a loudmouth yob who went around making everyone uncomfortable the moment I left the stadium.
Going to the football offered me, and many others, the ideal outlet for pent-up frustrations and the everyday irritations of life. Football still serves that cathartic purpose for me today, and I can confidently say I’m far from the only one who sees it that way.
This, therefore, brings us to the maddening developments in the football world, in which our arena to freely express ourselves is slowly being taken away from us.
Two weeks ago, it was reported in the Daily Mail that Chelsea fans are being told that the club will ‘trace those who bought tickets for the fixture, and email them to ask them to avoid any repeat’ following the alleged chanting of ‘Fuck the Pope and the IRA’ among the away support that travelled to Fulham.
Nor is this an isolated case. In 2022, Stoke City distanced themselves from the playing of ‘Delilah’ by Tom Jones, removing it from the pre-match playlist. The reasoning appeared to be that the adaptation of the lyrics used by Stoke fans was misogynistic. A year later, the Wales Rugby Union also removed the song from its choir list, despite not having the adapted lyrics Stoke fans used. Arguably, the song’s meaning and lyrics were now beyond the pale to be used in public spaces. Likewise, Wolverhampton Wanderers concluded this summer that ‘The Liquidator’ should be banned because of offensive chanting, because supporters sang ‘Fuck West Brom’ during it.
And while Birmingham City Council applies for a High Court injunction to stop members of the public from putting flags up in the city, one has to wonder where the line will be drawn next.
It feels as if our way of life is sliding away from us at a pace we simply cannot keep up with. The days are seemingly gone when a fan could turn up to the stadium, hand a fiver to the bloke on the turnstile, stand where he pleased, say what he liked – all free from interference by the authorities.
Now, instead, buying a ticket means handing over every conceivable detail about yourself, so the club can plot how much money you’re likely to spend. You then arrive at the stadium and pass through airport-style security. From there, you’re eyed up by stewards as you make your way to your assigned seat, as you’re preached to by repetitive advertising and wrong-think LEDs, and reminded to report your fellow supporters for offensiveness. Freedom is, quite frankly, on the back foot.
In 2020, when we were in ‘peak lockdown hysteria’ and the inevitable question came up of what to do about bringing back this nation’s biggest commercial success in a time when mass gatherings were prohibited, the answer was more of a dystopian image than many of us could’ve imagined.
With the football-going masses dispensed with, in their place came piped-in, pre-approved crowd noise. Stadiums were adorned with the approved messaging of the moment, while the seats once occupied by supporters were covered with slogans and campaigns that no fan had ever been consulted on.
And to many among the elite, it seemed they rather liked it that way. Even when supporters were finally allowed back into stadiums, many of the restrictions remained. Football fans suffered their own form of ‘long Covid’: the crowds had returned, but the controls that came with the pandemic had not entirely disappeared. In December 2021, I attended a match in Blackburn where I had to present a Covid passport or proof of a negative lateral-flow test simply to gain entry.
It feels as if the attacks on football-supporting freedoms have intensified ever since. To many, the clampdown on supporter ‘behaviour’ and the language fans use is yet another battleground in the wider war on free speech in this country.
The ability of the masses to speak their minds is undoubtedly a sign of a functioning and healthy society.
To echo Nineteen Eighty-Four and, like Stoke fans, put a spin on a classic:
‘If you want a picture of the future, imagine an empty stadium with piped-in supporter noises playing forever.’
Jack Kelsall is an alumnus of Living Freedom Summer School. Read his Substack.