Looking at things objectively, last weekend in the Championship was tinged with a feeling of anti-climax given the events that preceded it. Since August last year the race for promotion has been entirely unpredictable with the lead changing hand on a weekly basis. It looked a dead cert that the automatic promotion spots would be decided by a four-way final day test of nerves.
And then it was suddenly over. Watford were up and Bournemouth followed shortly afterwards (subjectively, this was fucking magnificent, the Watford bit I mean ). However, the disappointment that there won’t be an epic last day battle does not mean this hasn’t been a brilliant season.
The Championship has provided the sort of contest you would want from any league. The relentless, 46 game bastard of a season is not without fault, but often the criticisms are misplaced or fail to understand the romantic appeal of a league that breathes life into the otherwise turgid existence of many clubs. This piece raises questions about the growing divide between the second tier and the Premier League. It’s a familiar refrain and one that’s been heard pretty every year since Sky got involved. But, has there ever been a halycon era for the second division? It is, by definition, the second best that English football has to offer. How good does anyone really expect it to be?
When people talk about it being a great league, they are not referring to the kind of football that leaves you breathless the way Socrates and Zico did in ’82. But, that’s not the point of it. It’s not a league for neutrals, and that’s a good thing, because neutrality is dull.
Have you ever watched a Football League match involving two teams you don’t support? It’s a desperate way to spend your time. A few months after my daughter was born, worn out by sleep deprivation, I found myself watching a mid-table clash live from The Riverside. I had the lights and sound off to avoid disturbing the baby. Sat in silent darkness watching Boro v Someone. Never again.
Despite its lack of broad appeal, what the Championship does offer is the chance of success. Most football teams win fuck all. Even relatively big sides go decades without doing anything, more so now than ever. The Championship offers a chance of relative success, however fleeting or misguided, to any club capable of assembling a reasonably competent side.
The playoff system means that half of the 24 teams in the Championship will probably entertain promotion aspirations during the season, and even at the very end, there are usually five or six clubs competing for the four places in the traditional mini-tournament of death.
This season the competition has been fierce even by the Championship’s already intense standards. As a fan, trying to follow it and stay sober on Saturday afternoons has not been easy. Only a few weeks ago the top four sides were all level on points, and until last weekend only two points separated first to fourth. For the fans involved, that is exciting (and horrifying), regardless of whether the teams involved have a respectable pass completion percentage.
Compare and contrast with the Premier League which, for all its wealth, has delivered one of the dullest seasons imaginable. Nothing has happened, and no one cares. Even Sky’s hype men have given up.
The Championship, on the other hand, has kept fans of eight clubs involved in the promotion race until the end. Ignoring the fact that the two best sides this year play exciting, attacking football with no lack of skill, it is the competition and ability to sustain the interest of fans for so long that makes it great. And that trumps any doubts about quality.
