Friday, 5 October 2007
Genes and trainers
It was Sigmund Freud, the pioneer of psychoanalysis, who first identified the Oedipus complex. This is a stage of young men's development named after a Greek myth in which the hero murders his father and marries his mother.
Freud also had much to say about sex and our rude bits, and how we use other things to talk about them. This means that male football fans are actually expressing a deep-rooted insecurity about their own anatomy when they square up to each other on internet messageboards to compare the size of their stadiums and away support.
But it's the Oedipus thing that crops up again and again at the football. Take Peterborough's visit to Blundell Park last season. Paul Futcher, of course, earned legendary status here in the early 1990s but his son never quite lived up to it, and when Ben returned with the Posh in March the Town fans delivered a lusty chorus of "You'll never be your father!" When the chant died down you could clearly discern sighs of relief all the way from the Futcher household.
Undeterred by Ben Futcher's failure to become Paul, the rich new owner of Peterborough has appointed a manager in the hope that he may turn out to be his father, but so far Darren Ferguson is yet to match Sir Alex in terms of man-management, tactical acumen, skilful handling of youth players, domestic and European trophies, swearing at journalists and getting in a massive strop with the BBC. (Maybe Town can help him with the last bit.)
For supporters, too, the complex and sometimes troublesome issues between fathers and sons are played out at the football. Celebrity Arsenal fan Nick Hornby, who as a young boy had an absent father, has written movingly of the Highbury terraces providing a kind of substitute family; and the suspicion remains that a lot of unpleasantness could have been avoided a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, if Darth Vader had booked some annual leave and taken young Luke to see Tatooine United take on Alderaan Wanderers in the early rounds of the Core Worlds Cup.
But in England's fourth division in the Sol system all eyes are on Peterborough this season. There's no knowing tomorrow's outcome, but they'll be mortally disappointed with their mid-table start to the season, having been title favourites in the summer, with enough cash to have been offering a million quid for Izzy McLeod recently, and a Ferguson sitting in the dug-out.
So if the Oedipus myth is all about men growing up to sweep aside their elders and establish a new generation of power, it doesn't look like Sir Alex (and his wife) have anything to worry about just yet.
Freud also had much to say about sex and our rude bits, and how we use other things to talk about them. This means that male football fans are actually expressing a deep-rooted insecurity about their own anatomy when they square up to each other on internet messageboards to compare the size of their stadiums and away support.
But it's the Oedipus thing that crops up again and again at the football. Take Peterborough's visit to Blundell Park last season. Paul Futcher, of course, earned legendary status here in the early 1990s but his son never quite lived up to it, and when Ben returned with the Posh in March the Town fans delivered a lusty chorus of "You'll never be your father!" When the chant died down you could clearly discern sighs of relief all the way from the Futcher household.
Undeterred by Ben Futcher's failure to become Paul, the rich new owner of Peterborough has appointed a manager in the hope that he may turn out to be his father, but so far Darren Ferguson is yet to match Sir Alex in terms of man-management, tactical acumen, skilful handling of youth players, domestic and European trophies, swearing at journalists and getting in a massive strop with the BBC. (Maybe Town can help him with the last bit.)
For supporters, too, the complex and sometimes troublesome issues between fathers and sons are played out at the football. Celebrity Arsenal fan Nick Hornby, who as a young boy had an absent father, has written movingly of the Highbury terraces providing a kind of substitute family; and the suspicion remains that a lot of unpleasantness could have been avoided a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, if Darth Vader had booked some annual leave and taken young Luke to see Tatooine United take on Alderaan Wanderers in the early rounds of the Core Worlds Cup.
But in England's fourth division in the Sol system all eyes are on Peterborough this season. There's no knowing tomorrow's outcome, but they'll be mortally disappointed with their mid-table start to the season, having been title favourites in the summer, with enough cash to have been offering a million quid for Izzy McLeod recently, and a Ferguson sitting in the dug-out.
So if the Oedipus myth is all about men growing up to sweep aside their elders and establish a new generation of power, it doesn't look like Sir Alex (and his wife) have anything to worry about just yet.
Labels: attendances, family, fathers, ferguson, freud, futcher, men, new stadiums, peterborough, psychoanalysis, rude bits, sex, sons, star wars
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