Football admission prices continue to rise unchecked. Matthew Foreman wonders why
“Anyone need tickets… Olympic Gallery? That’s £660.91… ” Unfortunately it’s not a tout on the make but the official price for the England v Argentina match. Of course, you could save a bit of cash by buying a Wembley season ticket, only £1,751.25 for ten games. Such extortionate prices for a ground about to be levelled leaves the government with what spin doctors euphemistically call a “credibility gap”.
John Williams of the Sir Norman Chester Centre for Football Research examines the findings from the latest Premier League fans survey and a similar report covering Nationwide League clubs
Embarking on the National Fan Survey is, even now after a few years of trying, still something of a dip into the unknown. Experienced clubs have a nasty habit of “forgetting” exactly what it was they had done last time to achieve a reasonable supporter sample. New recruits have to be carefully schooled in the job to be done.
As relegation looms and despair mounts across the land, Ian Plenderleith went online to see how fans of endangered clubs are coping
The season is reaching its zenith, but for some teams it’s more or less over. How are the fans of table-proppers across the leagues coping with despair and defeat with two months of the season still to go?
Neil Dixe Wills discovers the life and times of Jimmy Seed, through his classic autobiography
“Eventually there will be a soccer League of Nations with clubs flying off to South America in little more time than it would take Newcastle to travel to Plymouth by train. These days may not be realised in my time, but they are coming.” Meet Jimmy Seed: child soldier, double title-winner, leviathan of The Valley and, judging by the statement above, pretty useful soothsayer.
When the Ivory Coast unexpectedly tumbled out of the African Nations Cup at the first hurdle, the military junta took the extraordinary step of jailing the entire squad. Mick Slatter takes up the story
If losing is a crime, then the Ivorians were suitably punished. On arriving home after their elimination, the players and staff had probably expected to encounter nothing more serious than a few disappointed fans and an awkward press conference at the airport. Instead they found themselves imprisoned and their passports confiscated.