Jack: No no! This one is full of football supporters watching the Cap Final!
Most of them, you'll realise, are terminally single, or shackled to women so neurotic/hideous/smelly that even those meths sodden tramps we were laughing at earlier would think twice about touching them.
The only reason they got into football in the first place was because it gave them an excuse to get out of the house that didn't involve conversations with other sentient beings beyond racist chants and ridiculous tirades about goal averages and the past form of northern teams no-one really cares about.
People who like football are scared of real life. They don't think they're man enough to interact with the world, they don't have the wit or the panache or the intelligence or the finesse that allows a decent human to discuss art or love or the truth of the universe, so they immerse themselves in a meaningless diversion.
The point, it seems, is if anyone asks what they fill their days with, they can say "football" rather than "trainspotting" or "stalking" or, worst of the lot, "nothing at all". And the irony of this pubs farrago is that it's finally shown exactly how empty football supporters lives really are.
I think all football obsessives are frauds.
I don't think they really care about football. They find it as tedious and unbearable as the rest of us.
Anyone with a fully functioning frontal lobe...