@tt9m

I saw another couple of notable characters from Level7 in my/their new area of St James’ today. It’s a bit odd seeing someone who you think you know, or at least have a vague familiarity with, somewhere you’re not expecting to. Outside of their usual context these people are not the people you remember at all, they seem ill at ease and unfamiliar. As we move through the season I’m sure I’ll see more - though not with the people I usually, or used to, see them with.

The politics of why/how the removal of the singing section has occurred has been done to death but only two games in and already I’d like to tell people how it actually feels.

I entered the ground today behind a lad who used to sit a couple of rows in front of me in Level7. We’ve never spoken to each other, but I’m sure we’re aware of each other’s existence purely through season-on-season proximity. He, like me I presume, is still getting used to our new section, but even in the 3/4 seconds I spent near him I could tell he was different. He was probably one of the noisiest, sweariest, shoutiest fans I encountered up in L7, there were countless other contenders though. For some reason I felt he didn’t have his usual Stone Island swagger.

L7 knew what it was about. It was making a racket, standing, shouting, swearing, abusing, bouncing, clashing, cheering, booing.. It wasn’t to everyone’s taste, but you knew where it was if you wanted it. It didn’t matter if you fell over a row while celebrating onto someone else, or whacked the guy next to you as you screamed at some diving kernt, or they hit you, or you were hit in the back of the head by someone’s paper aeroplane, none of this mattered - there was never any control, little stewarding and no occurrences of anyone being injured to my knowledge.

Now it’s all different, all my points of reference are gone, save my brother who I still sit next to, though I know he feels similar to me. I don’t know any of the people around me and they don’t know me. When we scored today I wasn’t at all lost in the moment, I was hugely aware of the old guy next to me, and how bad it would be if in my half-arsed jumping I knocked him, or stood on his leg, or his coat, or his wife. Up in L7 I wouldn’t have give a toss; let’s go fucking mental. Noone cared about their coat when we scored then. Even though there were plenty up there worth hundreds.

This is not why I come to football - to sit still and watch. I can do that at home.

I’m veering dangerously into criticising my fellow supporters now, but that’s really not my intention, if that’s how they want to watch, that’s their prerogative, it’s just not mine.

I can’t even do ‘stand up if you love the toon’ properly now - I’m wracked with self-consciousness about standing up, given it took 40seconds of the new season to be asked not to do so. Peppered around I can see other L7 lads up, defiant, looking at everyone else like they expect the same. There will be hundreds like me in there looking back at these lads, apologetic; we used to be mental, now we’re fucking sectioned.

You can’t even clap properly sitting down anyway.

One lad near me sung himself hoarse today. I heard him try to speak at the end and he couldn’t. That was hundreds of us most of the time ‘up there’, but how many joined him in his songs today? Not many. At the end of the game he met his mate who must sit within eyeshot of him in the ground, luckily in a ‘pocket’ of L7 lads - not lone wolves like me and my brother, the hoarse lad, the countless others of ‘single’ lads who found identity and collective voice up in the gods. If you were ‘on your own’ season ticket wise and applied for a move, that’s exactly what you got: on your own. Up in Level 7 even though you were too, you were actually never alone, as you were part of something much bigger. His mate actually congratulated him on being “a one man army” or words to that effect. I wanted to tell him everything I’m writing; apologise, explain.

My message to him is that I’m sorry, and probably a lot of us are. I feel like I’m not myself at the games currently, I’ve retreated into my shell, and it’s now going to be very difficult indeed to come back out this season. Me and my brother are already discussing the next, and that’s not where you want to be two games into the current one.

Now, I know nothing about psychology, but I know that if the club wanted a strategy to ‘kill’ Level 7, and it’s anti-Ashley chants, they definitely spoke to someone who did. We’re not only just separated geographically, making it harder to get songs going, our collective consciousness has been displaced, rearranged  and excised.

All of this isn’t about testosterone fueled, self-indulgent, machismo posturing over the a man’s right to ruck and shout or ‘let out the working-man’s aggression’ or whatever some pseudo-sociologist or over-romanticising intellectual would have you believe, but simply a desire to enjoy a game, played by our team, in the way we want. Which is fucking loudly. And we can’t, it’s impossible.

It was canny to see the younguns up in our olds seats though; pogoing, chanting and singing. A little bit of the ethos up there still lives on. I don’t agree with the “The Leazes” chants that some have been doing in my area, it’s hardly going to help matters in our new home, but I understand their frustration. A few times the Ryan Taylor chant got going, but it’s just not the same.

About five minutes from time someone near tried to start, “…one Level 7, there’s only one Level 7..” - needless to say after about twenty seconds, and five additional voices it died on it’s arse.

There’s no Level 7.

The player that “doesn’t want to leave”,

Whose manager “doesn’t want him to leave”,

Who’s fans “don’t want him to leave”,

That the board will get no money for selling,

That is contracted for another year,

That was offered a new contract for millions,

But not enough millions,

That is adored by the fans,

That adores the fans,

That plays for a promising team,

Where the new players seem to love him,

In a city where he’s happily settled,

With his settled, pregnant girlfriend,

Where his employers stood by him whilst in prison,

Where he has since turned his life around….

Is leaving?

”..he’s French! he’s [xxxx]…”

As my Cabaye chants are going down an absolute STORM on twitter, I’ve decided to put them all up in one place for all my fans. It all started on July 18th with the pretty basic: ”..he’s French, he’ll shoot, he looks good in a suit, Yohan Cabaye,. Yohan Cabaaaaaye.. he’s French, he’ll shoot…” and since then it’s been onwards and upwards as poor metaphors, cultural stereotyping and a large amount of homoeroticism have given rise to some of my finest work. So in no particular order, the archive is found below…

1.  ”..he’s fit! he’s french! he’s put Nolan on the bench, Yohan Cabaye, Yohan Cabaaaaye.. he’s fit! he’s French!..”
2. ”..he’s French! he’s butch, HE DANCES TO FRENCH TOUCH, Yohan Cabaye, Yohan Cabaaaaaaaaye.. he’s French! he’s butch!…”
3. “he’s french! He’s cheap! he won’t pay for his teeth, Yohan Cabaye, Yohan Cabaaaaye..”
4. ”..he’s French! Garçon! Got buttocks made of stone, Yohan Cabaye, Yohan Cabaaaaye, he’s French! Garçon!…”
5. ”..he’s French! great legs! He’d never eat a Greggs, Yohan Cabaye, Yohan Cabaaaaaye.. he’s french! great legs!..”
6. Is Cabaye gay? “..he’s French! Loves lads! Like Zidane loved his tabs, Yohan Cabaye, Yohan Cabaaaaye.. he’s French! Loves lads!…”
7. ”..he’s French! Loves slags! Like Zidane loved his tabs, Yohan Cabaye, Yohan Cabaaaaye.. he’s French! Loves lads!…”
8. “HE’S FRENCH! BA -BAH! BA BA BA BA BA BAHHHHH Yohan Cabaye, Yohan Cabaaaaaaaaye… he’s Frech! BA-BA!”   
9. “he’s French! Je t’aime! He loves to kick mack-ems, Yohan Cabaye, Yohan Cabaaaaaye!, He’s French! Je t’aime!..
10. ”..he’s French! J’adore! He’ll only wear Dior, Yohan Cabaye, Yohan Cabaaaaaaye.. he’s French! J’adore!…”
11. ”..he’s French! Not gay! He’d love my black beret.. Yohan Cabaye, Yohan Cabaaaaaaye.. he’s French! Not gay!…”
12. ”..he’s French! Plays boules! He’s teaching Shola to.. Yohan Cabaye, Yohan Cabaaaaye.. he’s French! Plays Boules!…”
13. ”..he’s French! He’s fair! He shops in Eldon Square, Yohan Cabaye, Yohan Cabaaaye.. he’s French! He’s fair!…”
14. ”..he’s French! With class! Like if James Bond was from France, Yohan Cabaye, Yohan Cabaaaaaaye… he’s French! With Class!..”
15. “he’s French! J’aime ça! Like Shola loves his hats, Yohan Cabaye, Yohan Cabaaaaaye.. he’s French! J’aime ça! ..”
16. ”..he’s French! He’s lithe! But he’s already got a wife, Yohan Cabaye, Yohan Cabaaaaye.. he’s French! He’s lithe!..”
17. ”..he’s French! Great hair! il habite en Angleterre! Yohan Cabaye, Yohan Cabaaaaaye.. he French! Great hair!..”
18. ”..he’s French! Likes cheese! His gran was Vietnamese, Yohan Cabaye, Yohan Cabaaaaye… he’s French! Likes cheese!..”
19. ”..he’s French! Garçon! He loves Joey Barton, Yohan Cabaye, Yohan Cabaaaaye.. he’s french! Garçon!..”
20. “He’s FRENCH! Vin ROUGE! He loves the fucking toon, Yohan Cabaye, Yohan Cabaaaaaaaye.. he’s French! vin rouge!..
21. ”..he’s French! Likes cheese! His gran was Vietnamese, Yohan Cabaye, Yohan Cabaaaaye… he’s French! Likes cheese!..”
22. ”..he’s French! Left peg! Put his studs down Bardsley’s leg, Yohan Cabaye, Yohan Cabaaaaye.. he’s French! Left peg!…”
23. “He’s French! He’s real! Knob as long as an eel, @yocabs, @yocaaaaaaabs.. He’s french! He’s real!…”
24. “he’s french! Pas cher! He’ll bite Joey this weekend, Yohan Cabaye, Yohan Cabaaaye.. He’s French! Pas Cher!..”
25. “he’s French! Bien yeux! Il est jouant pour les bleus, Yohan Cabaye, Yohan Cabaaaaye! He’s French! Bien yeux!…”
26. “he’s French! Fair dosh! - il a Barton dans son poche..Yohan Cabaye, Yohan Cabaaaaye.. He’s French! Fair dosh!…

Painstakingly done using oldertweet at http://www.tweettunnel.com/

Updated 16/9/2011.