The BSFC is about people looking at you like your flies are down and you’ve got egg in your beard when you attempt to explain it to them.
The BSFC is about friendship and camaraderie and community. Inclusion and tolerance. Acts of generosity, of support, of caring between people who often have never met in an era when the air is so thick with cynicism and selfishness you could choke on it.
The BSFC is about travelling hundreds of miles to Edinburgh to meet a bunch of blokes off the internet when you don’t even know their real names (especially dangerous if, like me, you’d fetch a fortune on the sex slave market).
It’s about opening yourself up to people and possibilities when you’ve spent years shutting them out. Learning to love Aberdeen fans (forgive me Father for I have sinned). Being a ponce and a peacock, spending hours discussing jacket pockets and shoe soles while always knowing it’s the people under the clothes that matter. Examining your own prejudices instead of just criticising other peoples’. Having those several extra drinks although you know you’ll be a physical catastrophe and paranoid wreck for two days because you’ll be smiling at the memories for much, much longer. Being asked ‘what team are youse?’ outside a Manchester pub and reeling off about ten. Buzzing for weeks before a meet and having a last minute shirt dilemma.
The BSFC is about believing all these things are valuable and make life worth living. And socks.