Making Notes: Football Supporter Gift Set

There are quite a few football supporters in my family. As you will know if you have read other of my blog posts, I even joined them for a while. And if you are a true follower of these pages, you will also know that a few years ago I had the crazy idea of making all my Christmas presents.

One of the presents I made, for those insane people who like to spend afternoons and evenings out in the cold, was a “Football Supporter’s Survival Kit” containing a selection of items to make the whole experience more bearable.

Recently I have been making some customised bits and pieces to sell in the shop at my local football club, and with Christmas coming up a re-visiting of the Survival Kit seemed like a good idea.

Here’s what went in:
And here’s the label which (hopefully) makes sense of that rather random selection:
The stress ball is one I made, in the team colours – you can find the instructions elsewhere on this blog (I’m determined to make you read it all!) but you could use a bought one, maybe even a football-shaped one. You could also add a handwarmer – and for grown-ups a miniature bottle of something to make the hot chocolate even tastier. Oh, and I have just remembered that in the original pack I included a pack of throat lozenges “for when you have shouted yourself hoarse.”

Anyway, I’m sure you can come up with your own ideas – and the cheesy lines to go with them, of course.

The football club handily had some branded mugs to package it all in, and if your footie fan supports a major team you can probably find a mug for them too. But if not, no matter. The original sets I made were packed in a random box that I covered with plain paper. I printed out the logo of the favoured team – with the good old black and white printer – and I coloured it in by hand.

It’s simple, relatively cheap, mostly useful, and can be personalised – as far as I am concerned, that makes it the perfect present. And I’m hoping the football fans down at the local Club shop agree.


The Things We Do For Love

In our house this evening there is a football match on the television.  It’s Wrexham vs Luton, and we have actually paid to subscribe to a channel for the night just so we can watch it.

I say “we”, but although the money comes out of an account with my name on it, I’m not taking advantage of this purchase.   My husband, brought up in North Wales, is the one glued to the box, groaning as his team seem to be losing quite badly.  I gather it’s some kind of playoff, but I can’t tell you what for.

There was a time when I made more of an effort to know these things.  When we were first dating, I did my best to get to grips with the different leagues and cups, and what they used to be called before it was all changed.  I knew the names of the Wrexham players and sort of understood the offside rule.  I even donned layers (and layers) of warm clothing and stood on the terraces to cheer on the team.

I admit that part of my motivation, for away games at least, was a night in a hotel, plus the promise of a pie at half time to help keep the cold out.  But clean sheets and warm pastry can’t be the full story.  I’m not *that* easily bought.

It certainly wasn’t a genuine love of the Beautiful Game (which I always felt was at least 30 minutes too long.)  I can only assume that it was a desire to share in the interests and passions of my not-yet-husband which provided the incentive for me to endure those cold, windy out-of-town football grounds.   What else but a wish to find common ground and experiences could have driven me to learn all those unsavoury anti-English football chants?

So does the fact that I no longer feel the need to watch the football – even from the comfort of my own sofa – say something about my relationship with my husband?  Do I feel less of a need to connect with him now we are married?  Have the incentives disappeared now I have his ring on my finger?

Or is it just that we now have other shared interests and experiences which help to bring us together?   Things like buying a house and having a child – events that are (dare I say it) even more important than a football match.

That’s my theory.  And I think it’s a good one.  Especially as it absolves me from having to watch Wrexham ever again.