We pitched for relatively well-known football club account a couple of weeks ago, but unfortunately we didn’t win it. I’m gutted. Not just because I’m a big football fan, but because I’ve just seen the work that won it. It really could have been for any club in the country and that’s what ticks me off the most about football.

I had just finished reading Herd when the pitch came up (excuse the pun) and it couldn’t have come at a better time. Or so I thought. I got the hint we were going in the wrong direction halfway through the pitch process when the client allegedly said to one of my colleagues: “I don’t care about the 15,000 fans that already go, they’re addicts. It’s the ones that have never gone that I’m interested in.”

This diminishing, 15,000 strong group of people are the most vocal about how the club is run. British football fans are generally quite pessimistic but these fans were just abnormally pessimistic, bordering on depressing. Everything from the price of tickets, to the money available for transfers, the board and the lack of atmosphere in their shiny new ground was a problem. Despite looking like they are going up they were still think the club will cock it up. The club always do apparently.

Each interaction between fans, at work on Monday morning for example, was negative, even if they won. Something was always wrong. Feeding off each other, this group of people actually became negative influencers. I don’t blame kids for not supporting the same team as their Dads if all he does is whine about them – it’s much easier to support Chelsea.

The fans that had been going for over ten years weren’t looking like they were going to renew their season tickets again. This particular club is a way of life for many of them; it’s more than just 90 mins of football. Fair weather fans or what’s known as the ’prawn sandwich brigade’ (where the biggest opportunity is apparently) were ultimately replacing the heart and soul of the club. The more and more the club ignored the core Herd if you like, treating them like addicts, the more the club seemed to suffer.

Football crowds have changed massively over the last decade or two. Not just in terms of numbers, but the sort of people that go. You are as likely to find a mum that hates people shouting as a loud mouth yob. Both are found just as offensive to each other. The whole football environment is undoubtedly safer and more accessible to people of all ages but the result is homogeneity between clubs and fans. There is no longer anything left to identify with.

Fans across the country now go to grounds that all look similar because one construction company made them all. Too many grounds and stands are now named after sponsors rather than local landmarks. Many teams now have the same sponsors as each other. There are few homegrown players left to idolise. Young fans aspire to the lifestyle of a footballer from a big club rather than the scoring the winner in the FA cup final for your hometown club. Matches are now played at different times for TV. As a result, Britain has lost a National ritual where nearly a whole nation descended on grounds and public houses all over the country at the same time.

Many fans cite ticket prices as the reason they don’t go and watch their team anymore. However, it’s the loss of experience and identity that has reduced peoples threshold. It is this feeling you get on match day, the banter between fans, the anticipation and the pride experience that creates the value, not just the ball being kicked around. In an environment that oppresses mass behaviour and the interaction between super social apes, fans will continue to use different excuses for not going. Fans are currently given the opportunity not to support their clubs rather than a reason to support them.