Shouty fans

[EIM]

There was a man in the back row of the East Stand tier 2 (I include this to give a sense of just how far away from the pitch he was) yesterday who was shouting tactical instructions to every player. He'd repeat them, getting more and more frustrated that the players weren't listening to him, before finally giving up. Until the next passage of play when he'd start again. He was like an angry Dad on the touchline of a school game, furiously barking very bad advice. "GIVE IT YOUNGIE. YOUNGIE IS FREE. YOUNGIE WILL HAVE IT... OH FOR FUCK... TOO LATE!.... YOUR MATE IS LOOKING... GO RIGHT... HE'S FREE ON THE RIGHT... YOUR MATE... OH FOR FUCK... TOO LATE."

This went on for the full 90 minutes. It's a wonder no one banjoed him on around the twenty minute mark. I sat and stewed, losing my temper as he yelled for Manchester United players to press the goalkeeper at a goalkick, screamed to "ATTACK, ATTACK, ATTACK ATTACK ATTACK" at 2-0 up, and yelled "FORWARD PLAY IT FORWARD FOR FUCK SAKE" during a period of controlled possession.

I was hoping he was only over for this one game, but my mate who sits next to me says he was also here for the Valencia game. One of us, I predict, will be on a banning order by Easter. If any good came from his being at Old Trafford yesterday it's that the regulars in his pub back in Ireland got a day away from the shouty nobhead.

[Bored Of Education]

There is a guy up in the stand at Twerton Park who doesn't even go into that level of tactical expertise. His sole instructions appear to be "COME ON, CITY, SHOOT, SCORE!". Whenever I end up there, I end up walking back down to the terraces (which I obviously do anyway as a member of the proletariat).

There was - and probably still is - a guy at Cardiff City who used to constantly try and attract the players' attention but shouting at them by their first names constantly throughout the match. However, he was beaten by a mate of mine at Bath City who is often voluble but exceeded himself one time. We had been discussing the possibility that there are no traffic lights in Portishead. Playing for City at the time was Phil Walsh who not only had lived in Portishead but, as we discussed, Kelsey Grammar's brother-in-law. As the opposition had a throw-in near us in our half, Walsh came over to mark a player. My mate shouted at him, "Oi, Frazier's lad! There aren't any traffic lights in Portishead, are there?". Unprofessionally but, perhaps, unsurprisingly, Walsh's attention was diverted by this, he lost his marker and the opposition scored. My mate received much remonstration and many snaps to the head and has been banned from shouting directly at City players since.

[EIM]

"Phil Walsh who not only had lived in Portishead but, as we discussed, Kelsey Grammar's brother-in-law."

This is incredible.

[Uros Predic]

A man of the same volume, and same penchant for tactical advice as EIM's nemesis, also attends Doncaster Rovers games. He's universally known among other supporters as 'The Coach' and he used to stand near us on the Pop Side terrace at Belle Vue. Mercifully the ground move to the Keepmoat a decade ago put us in different stands, but I can often still here him yelling the same nonsense at foghorn level from a good sixty yards away.

He also likes to refer to and address the players by their nicknames - albeit nicknames he's made up, which are usually just the player's surname with a 'y' on the end. He peaked when referring to Jamie Paterson as "Patersony".

A couple of seasons back, after being stuck near him away at Stevenage, I started a 'Coach's Corner' column in the fanzine, which was effectively just an ALL CAPS stream of consciousness piece telling you how to read what you were reading ('GO ON NOW, ONTO THE NEXT WORD, AND THE NEXT, THAT'S IT READER-Y, ON AGAIN, AND NOW FULL STOP.'). When the 'zine came out, I saw him at a match holding a copy. I regularly wonder whether he's realised that him and 'The Coach' are one and the same. I suspect not.

[Ray de Galles]

"Phil Walsh who not only had lived in Portishead but, as we discussed, Kelsey Grammar's brother-in-law."

This is incredible.

That someone lived in Kelsey Grammer's brother-in-law?

[EIM]

Yeah. The nicknames thing seems a constant to these shouty, look-at-me dickheads. The East Stand Warbler refers to everyone as "your mate" except Ashley Young, who is Youngie, and Anthony Martial who he calls "Eddie Murphy", presumably because they're both black. The Eddie Murphy thing alone is enough to get him a Fracap in the teeth.

[Ray de Galles]

TBH, I'm only on this thread as I saw Bored and Uros had contributed and was worried one or both of them were outing me as a relatively shouty supporter.

[Patrick Thistle]

Tbh learning said shouty chap was Irish made me think TAB had got to a live game for once

[treibeis]

"Phil Walsh who not only had lived in Portishead but, as we discussed, Kelsey Grammar's brother-in-law."

This is incredible.

Not a patch on his dad, who is not just Kelsey Grammar's father-in-law, but also the man who invented the stepover.

[Bored Of Education]

TBH, I'm only on this thread as I saw Bored and Uros had contributed and was worried one or both of them were outing me as a relatively shouty supporter.

Either I haven't watched a game with you for ages, you have mellowed in middle age or I have got used to it but I can't think that you have been that shouty for ages.

[Logan Mountstuart]

Back in the late 70s there was a bloke in the East End at Bristol City who used to devote his intention entirely at visiting goalkeepers.

He was very canny. The East End was pretty noisy back then and he only piped up as soon as song, or obscene chant had died down. In between his anti - custodianal rants he would shout lines of Shakespeare.

The one time that really sticks in my head was him shouting "Middleton!" (Derby?), followed by a tirade of really personal stuff. The poor bloke went to pieces, let in 3 goals if I remember rightly and turning to remonstrate with a baying, 70s mob in between.

The bloke was a total and utter cunt. But at the time he was our cunt. And the Shakespeare stuff just meant people left him alone.

[treibeis]

He must have been in cahoots with the ref-hater whom I stood near at the same time. "Get thee forth back to Tonypandy, thee fucking shithouse" (to any referee, from Tonypandy, from Wales, from anywhere).

My father was on first-name terms with him (no, it was neither my grandfather nor my father).

[tracteurgarcon]

Does anyone worry that they might be a "shouty fan"?

No, me neither...

[Gangster Octopus]

I used to be very shouty and sweary. I can't be bothered anymore.

[treibeis]

I've never shouted at a football match, either as a player or as a spectator. Never sung, either. I don't think I'm actually able to shout.

[JVL]

Same here... [in response to GO] my Dad refused to stand anywhere near me at Hayes games when I was a teenager, regarding me as 'a fucking embarrassment'. He was not far off the mark... when I was going regularly, I enjoyed bellowing and ranting, even had the local radio reporter from Aldershot moving seats so I was no longer audible on his broadcast from my position just in front of the main stand (and directly behind the away team dugout...). Also got at least two opposing players so furiously worked up with me that they either threatened to chin me or, in the case of Terry Angus, had to be restrained from climbing over the perimeter wall to make good on the threat. I think my finest hour was a sustained 10-minute rage into the ether about how Luton should never have got a penalty and their lummox of a centre-forward had dived. At one point, a policeman wandered over and retreated, laughing, when I asked him if he thought it was a penalty WELL IT DIDN'T BLOODY LOOK LIKE IT TO ME, OFFICER.

But I suppose a combination of things has helped me to tone it down: getting older and realising that a shout sometimes can be cathartic but doing it all the time does just make you a bit of a tit. Also not going as regularly has played a part, alongside our slow and inelegant tumble down the divisions. It's more fun tearing it up on a Northern away day than trying to get excited about a trip to Hartley Wintney.

[Bored Of Education]

I can get remarkably irate at Bath City matches in short, sharp, explosive and rare interludes. The funniest thing is when my mate asked me to shout something specific at a ref as he couldn't because he is now a director.

[jameswba]

I went to Bohemians vs Teplice in the Czech league a couple of years back. There was a guy a few rows back from me who ranted at the home players in a Scottish accent for much of the 90 minutes. I got the impression he was at least a semi-regular, but also that Bohemians took very little of his wisdom on board.

[Patrick Thistle]

I occasionally shout. Try not to swear if neice or nephew are with me because they're sponges who will repeat what I said later, or in church the following morning.

[elguapo4]

They say you're either a shouter or a sulker,I'm definitely the latter and will stand there with arms folded with a grim expression on my face whereas my brother's a shouter who can strip paint with his invective at referees mainly.

[DCI Harry Batt]

When a man is tired of Hartley Wintney, he is tired of life.

[seand]

I went to Bohemians vs Teplice in the Czech league a couple of years back. There was a guy a few rows back from me who ranted at the home players in a Scottish accent for much of the 90 minutes. I got the impression he was at least a semi-regular, but also that Bohemians took very little of his wisdom on board.

Was he shouting in Slovak in a Scottish accent, or was he in classic English speaking tourist mode expecting all around him to understand if he shouts a little louder?

[Benjm]

When a man is tired of Hartley Wintney, he is tired of life.

That's a bit sweeping; they might just be tired of my uncle who lives there. He can be quite wearing.

[RobW]

I've tended to shout less as i've got older, especially as I see more kids at matches with their parents. I try and rein it in a little. Saturday was quite difficult as the guys I was with tend to get more shouty after a few beers, and right at the end he seemed to want to start a fight with an overzealous steward.

[NickSTFU]

I tend to laugh a lot these days.

Loudly mind.