By Robbie Krzysica.
I’m a Saints fan living in Stoke now, but Southampton is where I grew up, and Saints have always been part of who I am.
I went to school opposite The Dell. Some of my earliest memories are of Laurie McMenemy coming across at the end of the school day to chat with parents, and junior players teaching us how to play football.
Southampton Football Club was not just the team I supported. It was part of my childhood, part of my family, and part of my identity.
I have two daughters who have grown up in Stoke. Naturally, they grew up Stoke fans, and I accepted that. It made sense. A few years ago, my nephew and his friend were meant to come with me to an away game at Leicester, but they couldn’t make it. I asked my girls if they wanted to come instead, and they agreed.
That day changed everything.
They loved the away end. They loved the noise, the togetherness, the pride, and the feeling of being part of something. As we walked back to the car afterwards, they told me they wanted to be Saints fans too. I cannot properly put into words what that meant to me. I was absolutely over the moon.
Since then, Saints have become something we share. We have been to several away games this season and nearly all of the FA Cup games. They had bragging rights when we beat Stoke at the Bet365. They had bragging rights again when we knocked Fulham, who had beaten Stoke, out of the cup. They wore the shirt with pride. They defended the club with pride. They became proud Saints fans.
We couldn’t make the FA Cup semi-final, so they missed out on that Wembley trip. But we watched the playoff games together. We laughed together, shouted together, hoped together, and by the end of the second leg, we were crying together. That is what football does. It creates memories that stay with you.
I managed to get us tickets for the play-off final, and they were so excited. For them, this was going to be their Wembley moment. Their chance to follow Saints on the biggest stage. Their chance to feel that pride again.
I tried to shield them from all the noise and furore around the games. I did not want the ugliness of it all to spoil what had become something so special to them. But when we were expelled from the playoffs, they found out at a training session. The coaches there seemed full of glee when they told them. My girls were shocked. They were devastated. They were in tears because the club they had come to love had been branded cheats.
That is the part that hurts the most.
This is not just about a football match. It is not just about a final. It is about two young girls who had found pride, belonging and joy in supporting this club, and who now feel embarrassed and ashamed through no fault of their own.
They are now the butt of jokes at the football events they attend. Other children are laughing at them, winding them up, and calling their club cheats. Last night, I even had to tell one of them to think again about wearing her Saints top out because I knew someone would say something and upset her. That broke my heart.
Football should give children memories, not shame. It should give them belonging, not embarrassment. It should give them something to be proud of.
The club has caused real hurt here. It has caused shame, embarrassment and upset to supporters who have given their loyalty, their money and their hearts. But more than anything, it has hurt children who simply wanted to love their football club.
And as a dad, that is incredibly hard to forgive.
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