Flick through English newspapers and you might be forgiven for thinking that the game of football in this country is little more than a plaything for rich tycoons, randy Swedes and ASBO deserving players. Watched by a mixture of increasingly alienated supporters, phoney celebrity fans who have “always” supported Manchester United/Chelsea/the team that is currently winning and City gents sitting in their executive boxes discussing business deals, the face of England’s top tier – the Premiership – has altered more dramatically than that of Michael Jackson’s in recent years.

In the 70s and 80s, were you to play a word association game and be given “football” as an opener you would most likely respond with flowery terms such as “hooligans”, “violence”, “urine soaked terraces” and “bad perms”.

In the early 90s the implementation of recommendations such as all seater stadia following the Hillsborough tragedy where 96 fans died coupled with a Paul Gascoigne inspired England reaching the semi finals of the World Cup went some way to restoring football’s battered image.

In 1993 Sky bought exclusive rights to screen top flight games and the subsequent influx of money has led to a makeover Trinny and Susannah could only dream of accomplishing.

While this has meant clubs can attract the best talent from abroad, it has also led to steep increases in ticket prices, the onset of the badge kissing mercenary player loyal only to his bank account and an infection of balance sheet quoting profit driven corporate leeches.

However fans are fighting back. Away from the titanic battle/gladiatorial war/judgment day/second coming/shift in Earth’s axis (hype courtesy of Sky Sports)that is the one horse Premiership race, there is strong evidence that across England, football in the lower leagues is alive and kicking and tackling and scoring and(sorry – adjectives overdose there)

The story of Wimbledon FC is one example of how the avariciousness of the Premiership can infiltrate, contaminate and destroy a club, only for it to be resurrected through the power of its supporters.

Wimbledon began life as an amateur club floating around the minor leagues before embarking on a journey that few clubs will ever emulate. Entering the Football League in 1977, they won promotion after promotion before finally arriving in what was then Division One – now called the Premiership. There they revelled in their “Crazy Gang” image, regularly beating richer, more glamorous and supposedly superior teams. In 1988 they lifted the FA Cup, cementing their place in football history.

In 1997 they were taken over by two Norwegian businessmen – Kjell Inge Roekke and Bjorn Rune Gjelsten. Quickly displaying their grasp of footballing matters they sold some of the best players and installed a manager who promptly led to the team to relegation.

Not content on taking Wimbledon down a division, they then further showed their understanding(sic) of English football by deciding to relocate the club and bring it ready made, IKEA style to the people of Milton Keynes – in one fell swoop managing to destroy the club’s history, heritage and tradition – effectively the very lifeblood that any club needs in order to survive.

Wimbledon fans, far from just accepting their fate, decided to set up their own club – AFC Wimbledon. This was to be run by the fans on a democratic basis with everybody allowed their say, with community rather than asset stripping being its focus.

AFC Wimbledon has already achieved two promotions and boasting a support of over 3000 they and their supporters provide a lottery win of gate receipts and food sales for opposing teams more used to crowds of 300.
It may seem that a small club such as Wimbledon is more vulnerable to evisceration by predators whereas a big club would have enough strength, support and tradition to fight off any hostile takeover bids.

Manchester United, the biggest, most famous club in the world is proof that this isn’t the case.

Listed on the Stock Exchange and answerable to shareholders, United were ultimately always at risk of being taken over. Indeed it is the apparent ease by which big clubs in England can be bought that appeals to investors, benign or otherwise. This is in contrast to many big clubs in Spain or Italy – many of whom are owned by supporter trusts who are more concerned with the team than share dividends.

Despite protracted demonstrations from fans, various concerns as to the financing and even manager Alex Ferguson being quoted as saying “we don’t want the club to be in anyone else’s hands”, Manchester United were bought by Tampa Bay Buccaneers owner Malcolm Glazer. In the process the previously financially sound club were instantly saddled with a reported ?250+m debt.
In response, fans used their own money, initiative and passion to set up FC United. Like AFC Wimbledon, the team is run by a supporters trust, boasts thousands of fans defecting from the Glazer owned United and currently appears destined for promotion.

Speaking with fans of other teams, particularly those of the Premiership, the sense of alienation, discontent and downright anger is something that is very much in evidence.

This disillusionment with the Premiership and desire to experience a football match where you feel more like a fan than a consumer led me recently to go and see my local non league team, Welling United – currently engaged in a promotional battle in the Conference South, 6 leagues below the Premiership.

Having walked to the ground, not a riot van in sight – I paid my ?9 – admittedly not cheap but then still not enough to buy more than a minute of Michael Owen’s weekly wage.

At each end there were the terraces, I could choose to stand on these or I could stand down at the front where a waisthigh fence and one metre separated me from the pitch. All this with no steward bellowing “sit down or you’ll get thrown out” and the only remotely executive box being the Mondeo parked behind the stand.
I was able to see football close up, played by players who work full time, then travel through the night to play, all the time on very insecure contracts, along with 500 odd other football supporters – some of whom will travel hundreds of miles to see their team on a cold Tuesday night in the FA trophy.

Terrace humour, something that has become something of a rarity is very much alive and kicking and scoring and(sorry – got carried away again) at this level. You get to hear clearly the comments from players and the fans, and should you feel the need to ask who’s the wanker in the black, you can be sure that the ref can comfortably hear your constructive criticism.

While far from feeling trapped in a loveless marriage with the Premiership team I support, things are currently going Jol-ly well as it happens – it is the Premiership itself that I have fallen out of love with.

I have always felt that I am allowed to follow a second team as long as it’s a non league side. Previously this was more because it was cheap, easy to get to, and the feeling that as an example of grassroots football, I owed it to football itself to visit at least occasionally.

However with every new story regarding a player being arrested, shady consortiums eyeing clubs or hearing about fans who have been subject to yet another rip off scheme, I feel the beautiful game at the top level becoming uglier and uglier.

I will definitely be watching non league football more regularly and if you too are feeling ripped off, jaded and looking to experience a different side of football then I suggest your local non league club as a good place to start.

Sadly for the Premiership it seems there will be a few more Wimbledons, dodgy takeovers, take the money and run players, calculator and Excel spreadsheet brandishing chairmen and liquidated clubs before things can begin to change for the better.