Jack Averty: Win, lose or draw – it’s time to take back Saturday afternoon

You’d think we could all be satisfied, yet people are always on the hunt for more. Perhaps it’s that new Playstation 4, or the pursuit of ‘the body beautiful’, which requires you to shell out for a gym membership.

These are just a few things in life that people desire on top of that solid foundation of love and security to make life even better; like adding that dusting of cocoa powder on a cappuccino, it’s not necessary, but so much better with it.

However, for some, these ‘little things’ end up becoming bigger than life itself. Fundamentally they aren’t, but on some days, these things can feel earth-shatteringly important.

One of those ‘little things’ that many of deem so important is that great pastime involving 11 blokes running round a grass pitch kicking a football.

Happy

Our moods are very much dependent on how our basic life pyramid is performing: Is the partner happy?; Are the kids enjoying school?; Are we meeting our mortgage repayments?

Three ticks equals a happy chappy, one cross equals a frown. It’s the simplest of life’s equations.

But come Saturday afternoon, that equation collapses faster than an underbaked soufflé.

Nothing is more important than your football team on that fateful afternoon. They march out like soldiers going to war and you salute them as such, letting go of the fact that they’re a bunch of overpaid prima donnas for 90 minutes.

It’s easy to forget that it’s just a game when you’re screaming at the telly watching Arsenal let its fourth goal in. Your week has been royally ruined thanks to your team’s inability to even get a shot on goal.

It’s the hope that kills you; nothing builds you up more the drops you lower than the Titanic than football.

New season, new striker – we thought we had it all – this was supposed to be our year, lads.

Liverpool? Load of tosh, they can’t defend mate, we’ll smash them easily.

Three pints down and an hour and a half of misery, it’s officially been confirmed – Arsenal is the worst thing to ever happen, ever.

It would be easier to just block it out, pretend not to care that none of the players want to be there or that Arsene Wenger is more pre-historic than Gunnersaurus. It’d be best to call up Frank Skinner and have the club dumped into Room 101 for eternity.

But it doesn’t work like that, they aren’t going anywhere.

Life goes on, everything is great – the wife and kids are happy and there’s a big chocolate cake for after dinner later perched gloriously in the fridge – but that empty feeling won’t shake.

After grumbles of ‘never watching them again’ and ‘what a load of b******’, that remote somehow makes it way back into needy hands as the next match approaches. Before you know it, that bunch of overpaid idiots are back on telly again, fresh from escaping the Room 101 vault. Only this time they aren’t ‘useless’ and their performance doesn’t make you mutter expletives for 90 minutes. No, in this match every move is praised, every kick seems skilled and planned. Instead of being 4-0 down like last week they’re 4-0 up and playing beautifully. Life feels complete again.

The hope has returned, almost as quick as it will fade the following week.

It’s not just Arsenal. The army of fans that turn out at the Hawthorns or Molineux every week feel the same. In fact every fan up and down the country will know the feeling.

It’s an addiction that we can never seem to shake.

And yet, do the clubs and players who we dedicate our Saturday afternoons to actually care about us? Do they care that when they’ve gone out and got drubbed we can’t look our friends in the eye? Do they care that we have had our weekends ruined by their half-hearted performance on the pitch?

No, they just drive back to their massive houses in their expensive cars and get on with their pampered lives – win, lose or draw.

And if they don’t care, then why should we? It’s time to kick the habit, no more football.

Well let’s not be too dramatic, but at least make Saturday afternoons family time again. Why not take the kids on a day out? Have a picnic, enjoy that sweet fresh air.

Why not start this weekend? (Just don’t let on that it’s only happening because it’s the international break and your team isn’t playing).

Life is more important than a football team.

You do need to support a team in your life – the one made up of family and friends. They are the strongest team around and will lift you straight back up whenever you are down.

Most importantly they are there 24 hours a day, seven days a week.

Footballers don’t care for your support, but family do.

So if you ever find yourself full of despair because of a football team, put things in perspective and remember the big, important bits in life, not just the little things.