You don’t need to send out endless questionnaires or a cliched “Tell Us About Your Matchday Experience” email if you want to gauge fan opinion on a matchday.
Stroll about with them. Along Raw Dykes Road. Or Saffron Lane. Or take the traipse back to the train station up Tigers Way. You will be able to hear brief excerpts of arguments and conversations that would never fit on a boardroom PowerPoint slide and gain a tangible sense of the atmosphere.
As we passed the away end at King Power Stadium on Saturday, I overheard a Fulham supporter enthusiastically ask his little son, I assume: “Did you enjoy that, then?” The exuberant response returned. “Yes!”
It is turning into a stadium where away supporters create memories. where young supporters of teams without a fox on their shirt grow even more passionate about their team and the game. However, youthful supporters of our team frequently have trouble entering.
So, did I like that? It made me ponder.
There are lines when you get at the stadium. Wait in line to be frisked by a Showsec steward within an inch of your life. lines as a result of the rash decision to implement such strict security or because patrons are unable to use the digital tickets that the club has imposed on them to get through the few turnstiles. You’re in a heartless concourse if you’re among the many people who objected and swipe the piece of plastic that the club cost you £25 for—which is essentially the same as the piece of plastic the club gave you for free the previous year.
You may need to use the restroom. If that’s the case, you cram yourself into restrooms that haven’t been updated in 20 years and wouldn’t seem out of place in a prison. Because the concourse catering is uninspired and of poor quality, or because you’ve vowed not to spend this season following the £25 “Loyalty Tax” in the summer, you pass it up.
Being in the “stadium bowl,” as the team likes to refer to it, makes you a fortunate person. Either you’ve purchased an expensive membership with exorbitant one-day matchday costs, or you have a season ticket. Another possibility is that you are a “friend” of someone who already has a season ticket, and they have purchased one for you. It’s hardly a wonderful ticketing policy to attract the next generation or guarantee that Leicester’s impoverished community can pass through the barrier.
But at least the club hosts meet and greets during the school breaks, so they can experience what it’s like to be a fan and visit their heroes they only ever see on TV or on Playstation. False; those are also subject to a £10 wealth filter.
Anyway, you have that light show now that you’re in. Or some dark, flame-shooting boxes. A spectacle that no one ever requested and to which no one responds. Just as the army of Showsec stewards is not free, neither are those boxes of fire. As everyone is still attempting to navigate the frisking outside, the show is likewise performed to mostly empty stands.
The teams are out, and the new stadium announcer, Victor Kristiansen, who truly wants you to enjoy the beauty of “Number 16,” is emphasizing every word: As. If. He is doing what he is supposed to do: announcing the Heavyweight Bout of the Century. The old man who had been there for years was replaced because, during the trophy parade at the end of the previous season, he became a bit too passionate while asking Jamie Vardy about his contract. Three buses of Thai influencers and hangers-on were included in the one that was advertised with little warning. They were the ones who had gathered on the field with those Showsec stewards guards following the Blackburn game.
Due to the club’s ticketing policy, the few children in the audience who have managed to enter a stadium where the patrons have become stale are not wearing the same shirts as the team getting set to take the field. Why not? The team chose to have a cryptocurrency gaming partner on the front of the shirts, so that’s why.
They tell us that BC Game’s theme is “Stay Untamed” when the billboards aren’t urging us to retire in Thailand or consume the awful Chang beer that we are forced to drink on the concourses. You can tell that BC Game really believes in their motto of being “untamed” by reading about their financial difficulties and allegations that they do not pay winning clients online.
We’re prepared to begin the game with a brief wave of your “Honesty Flag,” you know, the ones you see people waving as they leave the field along the many roads leading away from the stadium. Once more, those “Honesty Flags” are not created by accident; nobody requested them, and they haven’t improved the mood in any way.
The same is true of the clappers that the team continues to create in large quantities for each home game. The ones you see scattered around the pavements and roads as you leave the area, which in some ways adhere to the club’s sustainability policy, which forbids distributing flyers directing supporters to mental health support organizations during World Mental Health Awareness Week.
The erratic mood as the game starts lets you know this. Additionally, it comes from two portions that are rife with authenticity but lack any honesty warnings. In what is now referred to as “unsafe standing,” the two sections that stand and sing—which at many other clubs would have been urged into one unified safe standing block—do so. However, Leicester City does not have safe standing because the team has been hesitant to adopt a strong stance on safe standing for many years.
The treatment of people in Union FS who live according to the motto “Leicester helping Leicester,” organize foodbank collections and charity fundraisers for the neighborhood, and wear tifos that foster civic pride? arbitrary bans imposed for small transgressions. Club suits’ disdainful and dubious communications, if they interact at all.
For more:https://sportchannel.co.uk/2025/01/21/why-are-supporte…chday-experience/
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