‘Hello. My name is Brian and I'm an addict. Like Kate Moss I take full responsibility for my actions and want to face the truth about my condition in the hope that I can help others.
‘When I first got hooked on football in the Swinging Sixties it cost two shillings for a fortnightly fix, but now it's £32 a shot for live action, plus £41 every month (and £50 for Premiership Plus) so I can overdose 24/7 in the privacy of my front room.
‘Back then the gear was pure and the dealers were mostly straight. It cost the same as going to the cinema. Now it's six times more expensive than the flicks, presumably because we're having to put up with six times more acting.
‘During the old Winters of Love the highs seemed much higher and the trips more rewarding. We'd dabble with 4-3-3 and 4-2-4. We had dribblers and characters and mavericks. It was mind-blowing. Today the gear's infected. Factory-produced, too much fake foreign muck from dodgy countries, too many shady guys (agents, lawyers, Glazers, Kenyons, Rios etc) taking a cut and flooding the market with over-priced, sanitised cack.
‘The drug barons who run the show know it's the No.1 narcotic and they can name their price, with no intervention from authorities and politicians who are all on the pay-roll.
‘We junkies know the smack is over-priced and sub-standard but still we inject it because we can't get off it. We can't just start doing cold turkey in B&Q every Saturday, or switch to bland placebos like rugby union. We're even addicted to Helplines (radio phone-ins). The problem is it's all turning nasty. Fear is gripping everyone. The men who manage the dealers are becoming paranoid, believing if they drop their defences and give us too much good stuff they'll get walked over by bigger guys and fall by the wayside
‘The barons know we're not happy. That's why they're coming out with talk about ways to improve the "product". Like moving the goal-posts, ensuring our deliveries all come at the same time (3 o'clock every Saturday), putting a cap on the dealer's cut, and bonuses every time we score. But it's all lip service. The people who are doing the talking are all in on the deals. And besides, it's a global problem. Cap a dealer's wages here, he sells his stuff in Spain or Italy.
‘So we tell them. Wages and transfer fees capped across the world at figures that bear some relation to our lives. Tickets costing no more than twice the price of going to the pictures. Agents kicked out, attacking football rewarded, foreign billionaires banned from buying up clubs, kids given a chance of getting into their local sides, power taken away from TV companies and given back to the fans. Whatever floats your boat.
‘For once in your lives, just say no, fellow addicts. A deafening indifference to them and their sponsors is the only noise they will listen to. Thank you for your love and support.’