My club don’t understand me – but then I’m not sure I do either

The requests pour in – from Halfords when I buy a headlamp bulb, from the pet store when I acquire some special food for a cat with a kidney condition, from the hospital when I have just been discharged …

“Would you be prepared to answer a few questions about the service you received today?”

But I never had one from my football club. Which stands to reason. The relationship between club and supporter is not a customer/service provider arrangement – not straightforwardly. Or maybe it is. “How was your matchday experience?” the email asked, the morning after the game. “Thank you for joining us at the recent [name of my club v their opponent] match. We value your opinion and would appreciate your feedback on your overall matchday experience at [name of my club’s ground].”

Well, I had no excuse – certainly not time. “The survey should take no longer than five to 10 minutes to ­complete.” So much for that, though. There were philosophical posers amid these questions that I’m not sure I would fathom if I thought about them for the rest of my life.

OK, there was an easy one to start with. “Which of the following best describes your engagement? Season-ticket holder/Member/Other.”

Not sure I’ve ever described it as an “engagement”: more like a fractious but ultimately solid marriage. But I could quickly check the first box there and move on.

And right away we were in complex waters. “How did you hear about the [name of opponent] match?”

How did I “hear about” it? How do I “hear about” any football matches? They’re just… there, aren’t they? This was a cup game, so I guess, strictly speaking, I heard about it when the draw was made, or thereabouts. If it had been a league game, I suppose it would have been when the fixtures were published last summer. So… on the BBC website, possibly?

I don’t know, is the truth. Games just end up in the diary somehow. Leave that one and move on.

“What made you decide to attend the match?”

Blimey. What makes me decide to attend any match? It was just something I started doing. And now it’s… something I do. How would we get down to the origin of this? My childhood is clearly involved. How long have you got? And are you a qualified psychotherapist?

No help from the survey’s ­suggested answers here, either. “I follow a specific player.” Is that even a thing? “The importance of the fixture.” Never a consideration. I was coming anyway. “I live in the local area.” Yes, but not a factor. It was proximity to the club that made me choose to live in the area.

Move on again.

“How would you rate the following experiences?” OK, some simpler ones here. “Ease of entry to the ­stadium … Quality of food/drinks.” Not too complicated to put a number on those. Standard consumer stuff.

But wait. “Pre-game experience”? Let me think. Said hello to Tony, as usual. Talked to Jane and Bob while the teams were warming up. Some fireworks went off as the players came out – quite spectacular, I guess, but I’m not sure it made up for missing Coldplay at Wembley this summer. So, seven? Eight? I really don’t know.

Same with “Stadium atmosphere during match”. It was a night game – those are always pretty noisy. But the other team went down to 10, and we ended up walking all over them which took the intensity out of it, so… I have no idea, actually.

And then the point where my head exploded: “How likely are you to recommend [name of my club] matches to a friend or colleague?”

Where to begin? Do those friends support my club? They might get something out of it. But what if those friends are Arsenal fans? They almost certainly won’t. And in any case, I go – but do I recommend going?

Sometimes I don’t think my football club understand me at all. And fair enough, I suppose, because clearly I don’t understand me, either.

Photograph by Harold M Lambert/Getty Images