Gifts for all the family - Viva Lewes

FIFTEEN LEWES POUNDS... ON A NEPHEW
Alex Leith subjects his nephew to a life of non-league football
I have 15 Lewes Pounds to spend, and I have
a three-year-old nephew to buy a Christmas
present for.
He hasn’t yet chosen a football team to support
– as far as I know, he is as yet unaware of the notion
of different teams from different towns playing
competitive matches against one another.
So I have an idea. If I buy him a Lewes FC hat
and scarf, will this encourage him to support the
local team? Could it nurture a lifelong emotional
attachment with his hometown club?
The idea fires me. Perfect! If he supports Lewes,
he will understand football in a different way
from most other kids. Instead of watching his
team on the TV, he will go to real matches. Instead
of swapping cards with the image of his
favourite players on them, he will see the players
in the flesh, in the street. His will be a nuts-andbolts,
grass-roots football experience. A genuine
one. Not one that’s fired by the love of glamour
and celebrity.
Then I think again. Would I want him to have
an emotional tie with a smalltown club? Could it
shape his personality in any detrimental way? Is
he likely to become more cynical, or downtrodden
by the experience of tying his emotions to a
team whose chances of success are strictly limited
by the size of the town they play in? Might such
an involvement thwart his sense of ambition?
I wander down to Cliffe with such thoughts in
my mind. I know that they sell football regalia
in Intersport, so I walk in. I ask the guy at the
counter some quickfire questions. Yes, they do
sell Lewes FC hats and scarves, though I’ll have
to wait until the afternoon for the hat. Yes, he will
accept Lewes Pounds (though he finds it an unusual
request).
So I have an hour or so to ponder the issue.
There’s plenty of other stuff on sale in the shop,
after all. Would a Brighton hat not give him more
chance of having a fulfilling football-supporting
life? Why not get him an Arsenal scarf? They
play a beautiful brand of attacking football.
Back in the shop, a couple of hours later, I’ve still
not decided. I think of some of the cold, miserable
afternoons I’ve spent down the Dripping
Pan. I ponder on the poor immediate future of a
club faced with relegation, and in financial crisis.
Is this any way to introduce a kid to the beautiful
game?
Then I remember the pure joy I felt on New
Year’s Day, when we beat Eastbourne away. A
great victory is a great victory and it’s all the more
worth it if you’ve had to work hard for it. “It’ll be
character building,” I think, and the decision is
made. Poor kid.