It's a funny thing, being a supporter of a club. In joyous moments, when your team is performing well, it uplifts your spirits, generating a sense of euphoria that could only be otherwise provided by a mind-altering drug. You feel invincible, almost omnipotent. Nothing at that moment seems impossible. Nothing appears to be out of sight.
These are all glorious moments that create a sense of exhilaration but most importantly, they strengthen the very notion that this is where you belong. For football fans, when things are going well, these moments give us the highest order of community because when you are part of a large crowd inside a stadium, in the upper areas of a stand, and a collective chant roars across the ground, there is nothing left to do but feel alive.
It's an unexplainable sensation and it probably sounds farcical to those who are not football fans or deeply connected to a club, but the truth is, this game of ours can be glorious.
It is a certainty, therefore, that joy has its antagonist and in the same manner a club can provide happiness for you, it can also snatch it back as if it was nothing. As a result, here lies the conundrum for supporters, where they know too well that loyalty -- a precious virtue -- is often challenged when the chips are down and it's even worse when the man in charge of your club's destiny, at least on the pitch, is one of your own.
This is the current scenario at my Aston Villa, a club struggling on the pitch and looking anywhere to find light as their manager -- who carries claret and blue inside his veins -- walks on thin, vulnerable ice ahead of Friday's match at Southampton.
Let's first look at the facts, which to be fair, can be deceptive depending on how you see the glass of water: Half full or half empty.
Let's begin with half full.
Sitting in 15th place in the Premier League, with only four points away from the top half of the table and a squad that is indeed getting healthier, there is an argument to be made that things are not as disastrous as others around the Premier League. There is talent here after all, and talent that can rediscover light again. From a structural side and on the face of it, the money from Jack Grealish's sale was spent reasonably well, covering many areas of need and it's only very recently that chemistry among the likes of Leon Bailey, Emiliano Buendía and Danny Ings can finally build again, specifically together.
Wins against Manchester United at Old Trafford (first time since 2009) and Everton have shown what can happen when the team focuses on fearless creativity and a relentless sense of utilizing all the tools available. Time and time again we have seen this team play well. Even the 3-0 loss to Chelsea in September was inspiring. The loss still showed the foundations of something special, hence the aforementioned United victory. Confidence was high not too long ago, and fans saw the rebirth of an Aston Villa side -- akin to Brian Little's, John Gregory's or Martin O'Neill - that didn't know how to give up, didn't know how to slow down and even more emphatically, didn't care who the opponent was.
It was everything that shaped the fundamentals of this club.
Now, let's flip the script and see this situation as half-empty, which, if we're being honest with ourselves, it's a clearer picture of the actual scenario. Halloween was not the only frightening event in October as Villa lost every single game last month. Only newly-promoted Greuther Furth in the Bundesliga have a longer losing streak and the last time AVFC lost five in a row, they were in the Championship and Steve Bruce was in charge.
To me, however, it's not just the losses but rather the manner in which those games played out. Aston Villa seem frustrated, reactively inept and on the pitch, extremely devoid of ideas. There is practically no midfield chemistry and cohesion is nothing but wishful thinking. Granted, all of these issues have to do with a different, newly built squad, and both injuries and the international break have impeded any kind of momentum. But the issues remain and scarily, no answer appears in sight.
So I say it again. Losses are not a new concept for Villa. We know how to lose. We understand it. We have fallen victim to it over and over again and in fact, it's important to remember that this is not the lowest of our times. It wasn't too long ago that the club (fresh from being saved from financial turmoil thanks to Wes Edens and Nassef Sawiris) found itself in 14th place in the Championship and light at the end of a tunnel barely visible. In fact, it was completely dark. I remember like it was yesterday. It was October 2018 and I was honestly contemplating the thought of League One football.
Then came Dean Smith.
A lifelong Villa fan, whose late father (Ron Smith sadly passed away to COVID-19 last year) was a steward at Villa Park, escorting the late Sir Doug Ellis to his seat. Smith's arrival represented a statement that was both dipped in vigor and intent. He introduced football that meant something and re-energized the fanbase. A well respected English manager who understood the job, and thanks to his days with Brentord, he brought structure. He knew the intricacies of this club because -- as a lifelong Villa supporter -- he lived them. I know this isn't necessarily a characteristic that interests most fans, and yes, it's probably not that important when compared to actual tactical prowess, but to me, it's an ingredient that helps us understand the man behind the sidelines. When Smith talks about Villa, he speaks as a supporter and a manager. This may be a weakness, but to me, it's a bridge that puts us and the manager on the same path, and that's why his current situation affects me so much. I have never met Dean Smith. He doesn't even know I exist, but due to the nature of our game, I feel connected to his journey. And even though it may sound silly to you, I am confident many fans feel the same way.
His success is our success, and in turn, his failures are also ours. This is why his current situation affects Villa fans so much and why many struggle with his fate. The idea of him failing and leaving Aston Villa almost translates itself into the idea that we -- as a community and fanbase -- have also failed him, and ourselves in the process. There are similar themes when I wrote of Jack Grealish's exit. The departure of one of our own is a poisonous thorn that takes time to heal, and Dean Smith is no different. When we concede a goal, and the camera pans to his reaction, you can see the pain in his face, but you relate to it because we're doing exactly the same thing. The human aspect of this situation is deeper than most think and as John Steinbeck once said, "you can only understand people if you feel them in yourself."
I don't know. Maybe I am being too tragically romantic about it all. Maybe it's because the pandemic has forced me to become more vulnerable. Maybe. All I know is that whatever happens with Aston Villa's next few games, which could ultimately determine Dean Smith's fate, I will feel partly responsible. It's absolute insanity, I know. But that's football. It's anything but reasonable.
For now, I remain optimistic (it's a conscious sickness with me!) and choose to fill my glass with more water, believing that Dean Smith will turn this around. There is enough of a blueprint to make me believe this indeed is the case. Yes, there was a Villa before Dean Smith and there will be a Villa after him, but for now I stand next to my manager and walk with him.
If he falls, I will pick him up ... because he's done it countless times for us.
