The British are celebrated for their ability to laugh at themselves. Which is good – because we’re not celebrated for much else at the moment. But even our talent for self-mockery is being strained. The cause is understandable: Westminster’s incompetence is so farcical it should be funny. But it’s not. We’re in danger of becoming a nation of dour, po-faced haters (and self-haters). So thank the lord for Manchester City fans. And as a Man United fan I never thought I’d hear myself say that.
In these dark days it is the blue half of Manchester that is showing the rest of the country it is still possible to not take yourself too seriously. City learned the hard way. They endured 35 years of pain – not winning a single trophy while United swept up everything in front of them. And in that time they learned the invaluable lesson – it’s best to poke fun at yourself before others get the chance.
United have had it good for as long as I can remember. But that’s not made us better fans. Along with being renowned as an arrogant bunch we take ourselves far too seriously. During two decades of dominance, City endured prolonged periods of misery in the lower tiers of the Football League and United fans were merciless in skewering their unfortunate local rivals. At Old Trafford a ticker banner was unfurled every other week that catalogued City’s trophy-less spell. If the insults hurt, you couldn’t tell from the cheery choruses being belted out on Maine Road’s terraces. They seemed to revel in their failure: “We always lose at home, and we always lose away, we lost last week and we lost today, we don’t give a fuck cos we’re all pissed up, MCFC OK.” They sang joyously, as if stoicism beat winning trophies hands down.
Our old insults are redundant now. Since City have been endowed with Abu Dhabi’s riches it’s become more difficult for United fans to maintain the supercilious grins we’ve been wearing for the past two decades. But we still try. Despite the riches, the new stadium, world class players, record-breaking seasons and being treated to arguably the world’s best manager, City still can’t fill their ground. Every game features empty seats peppered around the Etihad, prompting rival fans to coin “Emptyhad” to encapsulate City’s phantom home support. You’d think that might be a source of embarrassment. But no. If 35 years of hurt could be embraced with humorous self-flagellation then a few empty seats aren’t going to dent the fun. And so, to the tune of the Beautiful South’s Rotterdam, they celebrate their failure: “We’ve been to Rotterdam and Monaco, Napoli and Rome. We’ve still got empty seats! Empty seats at hooooome! Empty seats at home.”
Even if United win the derby on Wednesday night City fans are sure to find something to laugh about. Because they’re made of Teflon, impervious to insults. Their ability to laugh off any well-aimed jibes may have frustrated me over the years, but I think we could all learn from their ability to not take things so seriously.
And it will be a difficult lesson, as much of our lives have migrated online where the avatars we’ve created are carefully curated representations of who we are, with the bad bits trimmed away. That has many negative implications for society – believe it or not, you do have flaws. We all do. It’s important to be able to acknowledge them and laugh at them. If you don’t they’ll be so much more painful to bear when others point them out.