The Poverty of Riches

One of my favourite books is Winter: Notes from Montana by Rick Bass. It is a diary of sorts about Bass and his partner moving to a remote valley in the Northwestern USA, near Yaak, Montana. He arrives just in time to begin preparations for the ferocious Montana winter. He knows that foot after foot of snow will come and render him housebound for weeks at a time. Because he is an outsider, and from a Southern state with mild winters like myself, the prospect of snow still excites him. It is supposed to be a nuisance, but he can't help but look forward to it like a child anticipating Christmas. When the first snow finally comes he tells his partner Elizabeth, 'We're rich!' He goes on saying this, and feeling richer, each time it snows. It snows a lot in Montana, so it is safe to say Roman Abromovich had nothing on Rick Bass that winter.

I moved to the Montana from a Southern state at almost the same time as Rick Bass. Just a coincidence, and I didn't live anywhere nearly so remote. I still knew exactly what he was talking about. After reading his book I would frequently annoy my native-Montanan roommates by shouting, 'I'm rich!' after twelve or so inches settled on our university town. I loved it.

There is not as much snow here in England (or bears or deer either), but I have always retained my Georgian love of seeing snow....that is, I had always retained it, until I became addicted to football.

Like cheerleaders and tailgate parties, snow is an integral part of American football. I'm not sure if it is even possible for conditions to deteriorate to a point when a game can be called off. It's hard to imagine the Buffalo Bills being nearly as successful as they have been historically if they didn't seem to face the Miami Dolphins at home in the playoffs each season. In association football (you know, soccer) snow is a big problem, though (actually, the real villain is a frozen pitch, but that usually accompanies snow). Once cold weather sweeps across this normally green and sceptered isle each match is subject to a pitch inspection by the referee. If he can't manage to stick his car key into the ground (I don't think there is any reason car keys are normally used other than they are always at hand), the the match will be called off.

Bath City's last two matches have been called off because of a frozen pitch (the latter very controversially). Last night most of the country got hit with about four inches of snow. More subzero temperatures are forcast, which will most likely keep it from melting. Saturday's away match against Hampton & Richmond Borough is in extreme doubt. In fact, if the long term forecasts are correct City may not play again until 23 January when they face Bishop's Stortford at home. That would be twenty-eight days between matches, and a staggering forty-nine days between home matches!

This can lead to some pretty serious problems. Here are a few of them:

1) It may not seem obvious, but forty-nine days without a home match is going to cause cashflow problems for the club. The pressure to outspend your rivals in English football means all clubs sail close to the wind financially. Smaller clubs, like Bath City, find it harder to stay afloat.

2) The team loses momentum. Going into the Christmas matches there was a feeling in the air that City were about to go on a real run of victories and advance into the playoff spots. Adie Britton will have a real challenge to keep the players motivated, especially when it is hard to even hold practice sessions.

3) Football fans, used to a diet of matches once or twice a week, start climbing the walls and being a nuisance to friends and family.

That last one sounds like a joke, but I REALLY DON'T KNOW IF I CAN STAND IT IF I DON'T GOT TO A FOOTBALL MATCH FOR ANOTHER SIXTEEN DAYS!!!!!!

As in most tragic situations, it is always possible to console yourself by finding an example of someone worse off than yourself. In 1963 Britain was hit by what was called 'the Big Freeze.' City fans of the day had to endure seven weeks, from Boxing Day until 9 February, with no matches. That's a full two weeks beyond what we are facing today.

There's nothing to say we won't break the 1963 record this winter, though. I can think of few things more miserable to contemplate. If it starts snowing again in the days leading up to the Bishop's Stortford match, I know what I will say: 'I'm poor! I'm poor!'