I keep reading this: ‘I’ve paid good money for a ticket therefore I have a right to boo’. No you don’t. Let me explain it to you; what you’ve paid for is the privilege to become part of a great football club, a great family of Villans.
Membership comes with certain responsibilities. The overriding principle is this: ‘As a member I will do nothing to impede the advancement and success of the club. In fact I will do all in my power advance the interests of Aston Villa’
That’s it. It’s not about you; it’s about the great family you have bought into and the privileges that go with it. If you feel the urge to boo consider this: “Ask not what the Villa can do for me, but what I can do for the Villa”
I don’t care how many season tickets you have, or how much more the players earn than you, or how depressed you are, you do not have the right to boo. Do we understand each other?
Are there any circumstances that give you the right to boo? I suppose the answer to that has to be ‘yes’. Philosophically speaking, somewhere in the Universe there has to be a set of conditions that give you the right. Here’s the problem. You knuckleheads are so dim that you would never be able to work out or recognise these conditions if they came up and introduced themselves.
So we’ll formulate a rule. If you think you’ve stumbled across this set of conditions, before you indulge yourself and boo, you will refer to me. Come onto this blog and post something like this; “Churchill, O’Neill has just taken my wife and children to the Middle East and sold them into slavery, can I boo?” I will reflect on it and then answer.
My word is final. If my answer is ‘no’ (and in the example above, the answer would be ‘no’) then you will not boo. If you disobey me I will be hacked off. You don’t want to do that. First off I will disembowel you and then rip your throat out – metaphorically speaking of course. You will make an enemy of me and I will abuse you righteously on this blog. It won’t be pleasant.
Pilgrims, take the membership for what it is: a great and wonderful privilege. Think how lucky you are. Think what life would be like if you were born south of the Bull Ring and had to spend your Saturdays in the other place. O, monstrous fate.