A TYPICAL Friday which began – as always – with tea and chocolate biscuits. They must be opened by the same people each week and the gaffer has first go and his packet must have two chocolate sides together like a sandwich. It is just part of the amazing Friday routine which you have to put down to superstition. Ronnie always opens the other two packets. If we play on a Sunday the biscuit routine is switched to Saturday. We split into pairs with one player getting the tea and his partner going for the biscuits… It sounds childish, but Liverpool couldn’t possibly prepare for a game without this routine.
It’s odd to think that the team Ray Houghton is talking about, the irresistible ‘88 side of Aldridge, Barnes and Beardsley, would need to indulge in such a routine, writes ANNA WALSH. After all, they won the league by miles, playing some of the best football the First Division had seen. However, footballers are a superstitious bunch — see Daniel Sturridge walking backwards onto the field of play for example — and the traditions around the old boot room had served Liverpool well through the 70s and 80s.
Brendan Rodgers clearly understood the importance of the traditions of the boot room when he moved to Liverpool. Whether he had also read Liverpool: The Glory Decade is less clear, but in restoring the old ‘This is Anfield’ sign and the red nets at Anfield he clearly nodded to the superstitious among players and fans. And for a while it seemed these totems appeared to provide a new strength in the team. Fortress Anfield, with its old traditions and its new pressing game, buoyed the team and the fans to believe that the stars really could align for them.
Whether it’s Pepe Reina parking in the same space, David James spitting on empty urinals or any of the remarkable number of urination related superstitions alluded to here, athletes are renowned for ensuring they follow certain routines. And it’s not just footballers. My friend Tom, a rugby player, says he doesn’t really have any superstitions — except that he stops at the same Tesco Express for egg and cress on brown, blue Powerade and Jaffa Cakes before every home game. Maybe he’ll change this when he returns after breaking his leg in the last home game he played in.
Psychologists relate superstitious beliefs and actions to something called locus of control. The higher your locus of control — an ability to recognise and accept the amount of control that you have over events and actions – the less likely you are to fall back on superstition. Players, then, can have at least some influence, for better or worse, on the outcome of a game. For the most part though, the most a fan can do is make some noise and hope it has a positive effect. This lack of control can be frustrating, and leads some of us to behave superstitiously. Saluting magpies and avoiding walking under ladders is all very well, but I’m sure I’m not alone in having some sports-watching superstitions.
Whenever a game goes to penalties, like last night’s against Besiktas, I have to leave the room, or at least keep my eyes shut. We’ve seen Steve Bruce do something similar.
During the 2006 FA Cup Final, I paced around outside, keeping score from the shouts of my West Ham fan friend who was watching in the living room. Even if I don’t really care who wins, the cruel emotional spectacle of a penalty shootout is something I find as stressful as watching operations on Holby City.
During the legendary final in Istanbul I made everyone — even the Man U fan and the lad in the vintage Milan shirt — hold hands and chant ‘score’ when the Liverpool players stepped up. Dudek’s shaky-legged tribute to Grobbelaar, a welcome nod to the glory days, suggested an attempt to recall the spirits of past victories, and to threaten the opposition with the forces of history. Either that or he was scared of Jamie Carragher. I only saw the kicks though — on the world’s smallest telly — afterwards: a lifetime of spot-kick eye closing continued.
Last season, the red blouse with white flowers that had served me well through watching the Man U and City games was thrown out in anger after the loss to Chelsea. The pub I watched in was blacklisted, and the friends I watched it with were excommunicated until the end of the season in case *they* were the reasons we had lost. The new red t-shirt — an Asda panic buy with stripes for those who care — was unveiled for the Palace game, even though I was only listening on the radio, and until half time it seemed to have been a sound investment. Then everything fell apart and it was back to the wardrobe.
My friend Dave, a Sheffield Wednesday fan, never shaves on the day of a game, an action he is certain has absolutely no effect on the result but one that he feels compelled to continue with anyway. Gary at work’s United-supporting friend keeps his lucky ‘win pants’ on until United lose, when he changes them: an event which happens more regularly now, which must be a relief for the man in question’s nearest and dearest.
Another, anonymous, respondent, wears the same stripy red and white boxers for each Liverpool match. Janine will never bet on her beloved Middlesborough to win, as such an act always precedes defeat. In the FA Cup fourth round, she put money on them winning only because a win against Manchester City was such a ridiculously far-fetched proposition that she figured superstition would be null and void. Maybe that weekend’s remarkable FA Cup results will spark a new tradition for her.
Not betting on your own team to win certainly seems to be a common one; also, counting your chickens by even mentioning winning something — I can’t have been the only one watching the Football Focus where the venerable Alan Hansen confidently predicted Stevie G lifting the Premier League trophy and shouting, ‘Alan, NOOOOO!’ at the telly.
This hastily compiled bar chart specifies the types of superstition that my respondents follow for most of the games that they watch:
One respondent’s assertion — that the superstitions he follows never work, and are therefore stupid, is fairly pertinent here. These things that we do have no bearing on the results. Yet we do them anyway. Why?
Sometimes being a fan is hard. We want our team to do well, but more than that, we want to help them. Buying the merchandise or going to the game can clearly have an impact, but anything more than that and the effects of your travails are likely to be negligible.
Saying that, this run of better form (last night was a different competition, right?) began when I started listening to the games on the radio. Maybe there’s something in that?
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Pics: David Rawcliffe-Propaganda
I’ve never seen Liverpool win if I’ve had a pre match drink at the sandon – The Albert seems to have much better luck
I also have a lucky watch – I was burgled in late November and my watch was taken. Round the time Liverpool were in a real slump. The police found the burglar and the watch in late December.
I feel my watch is has had a similar impact on our season as the new system.
No disrespect, but what a load of drivel
It’s magic! Me wearing a certain pair of socks somehow has an effect on 22 men kicking a football!!
Ditto, Tom. Pointless comment.
Never tape the match!
Got a mate who swears by that!
….I taped it, instead of watching it live. Soz.
I blame myself for yesterday’s result. Instead of watching the match at home while wearing one particular Liverpool scarf–as I have been doing successfully for many weeks now–I watched it at school without the scarf. Shameful.
In Uni, my mate Steve would wear my Liverpool hat whenever we watched a match together. Can’t remember how it started, but we kept winning (it was 2001, and mainly cup games we could watch).
Anyway, we’re watching the final against Alaves, and 3-1 up at half-time. He pops out for something and takes the hat off. By the time he gets back, having been slightly delayed, it’s 3-3. Needless to say, the hat goes back on and we win 5-4.
Of course it didn’t mean or affect anything, but it’s funny how things go….
For a more contemporary example, I often tweet out pre-match stats or stats during the game, and end up with countless ‘jinx’ replies if what I’ve said does or doesn’t happen. As if the tweet and the match event are linked in any way! But people do seem to think they are somehow.
Last season there was a running joke from early in the season about Liverpool being ‘the champions elect’. It made me shudder everytime I heard it because such proclamations are just asking for trouble but it was generally said with enough tongue in cheek for me to let it slide.
However, on April 24th 2014. This article was posted on the site
http://www.theanfieldwrap.com/2014/04/rise-rise-raheem-sterling/
containing this statement
“At 19, Luis Suarez had just sealed a move to FC Groningen and the Dutch Eredivisie. At 19, Raheem Sterling is winning Premier League titles and producing stand-out performances in a team of stand-out attacking footballers.”
As soon as I read that, I knew we wouldn’t win the league and unfortunately that turned out to be the case. I lay the blame solely on Craig Rimmer. Thanks a lot Craig, you fucking Jonah.
I’ve got my Liverpool scarf on the back of the closet door. I have a remarkably lengthy and passionate inner debate about whether to put it on while watching the game. At some point during the Hodgson era, I became convinced that the scarf was causing the malaise. Turns out he was just a rubbish manager, but I have yet to convince myself of what forces the act of wearing it would unleash. Wherever the answer may lie, clearly it is not just a piece of clothing – or so I wish. My inner debate has three arguments, one for wearing it, one for leaving it on the hook, and one for jettisoning my whole system of superstitions. Penalty kicks and such only feed the demons…
I rock the Red scarf the night before a match, then don’t take it off till the match is over.
Wake up wrapped in glory!!!
Watches,scarves,socks,taping it or not taping it? How could you all do things like that?
And there was me working my arse off all night while you lot were sabotaging my routine with hats,scarves,socks,pubs and record buttons.
It’s a very simple formula when I’m watching on the telly.If things are not going OK I put it on pause then go and tidy stuff away.Press play again and give it another 10 minutes.Still no improvement? Right pause again upstairs for a shave.Next move iron a shirt for tomorrow and change my jumper.
Still no sign?Right pause again and round the shop for a bottle of wine.
By the time it got to penalties I was knackered,pissed and slumped in a chair wearing two t shirts and a pair of football boots with my Mrs due in from night school any minute.
And as Lovren stepped up to the spot I suddenly realised that I’d forgotten to put the bloody cat out.And that always works!
Brilliant!!!
I can’t play as Liverpool on FIFA the day before a big came in case my loss affects the game. I am 51 years old.
That’s your wisdom showing through, right there.
For parts of last season, I played exhibition matches as Liverpool against whoever we were going to be playing, making sure the last game I played was a Liverpool win. Pretty sure I neglected to observe the ritual before the Chelsea match.
I always go for a ciggie on 75 mins if we are winning.
If not, my mate has to say “always a goal in the last 10 minutes”.
Load of nonsense but heigh hoe.
Got into the habit of watching matches round my friend’s house, starting with the Boxing Day win over Burnley. Noticed we didn’t perform well when sitting in a certain chair so kept switching until we were consistant. Now stand in front of the fire place for games as it’s when we seem to be at our best when I do. It’s also nice of his mother to offer me a valium every now and again when I’m roaring at the telly.
Thursday night I sat down and we lost on penalties. Won’t be doing that again.
If I’m watching the game at with my dad I’ll always set off late to get to his house as we will then definitely score as I’m going over the flyover at Walton.
Happened so many times last season particularly when we were scoring early.
I do not believe in luck. I have rationally considered the concept and come to the conclusion that it does not exist. It is superstitious mumbo jumbo that has been invented to explain chance and probability. I often berate my family for blaming or thanking luck for events that have occurred. You increase the chance of favorable things happening by reducing the risk of the unfavorable. Example: My daughter is not unlucky for losing several mobile phones on nights out as she claims. She could reduce the risk of this happening by not taking out her phone, not getting so drunk, not asking another drunk friend to look after it, or allowing me to superglue it to her face.
This aversion to luck however has one exception for me, football. Yes my family have noticed the flaw in my argument. Usually when I tell them to move out of a particular seat because I am about to watch the match, or why the tv volume has to be set to an odd or even number, why the lamp has to be on in the middle of an afternoon in April. Yes I know my argument is entirely inconsistent when it comes to watching Liverpool, but, what if I am wrong.
Sit in front of the telly and don’t ever change positions if we are playing well. Not even a stretch of the legs. If we play like s*it, definitely change to another position, then remain in that position if our game improves.
Have seen it work many times now. Great powers we yeild.
Some brilliant and meticulously observed comments that made me feel less unusual for my habits! I wonder what would happen if two friends watched the game together with opposing superstitions – ie one had to watch with everyone sitting down, the other with everyone standing up. It could put serious pressure on a friendship.
Today I watched the game in the pub and, just as in last week’s game, I missed Coutinho’s goal due to excessive messing about on my phone. I will attempt to replicate this on Wednesday and see if it works!