As the current professional football season comes to an end fans have been treated to various finals played in front of tens of thousands fans in breathtaking futuristic stadiums. At the polar opposite of the spectrum finals have also been taking place at Sunday League level. Here the number of spectators is often less than the number of actual players; the action taking place on park pitches where the perimeters of the pitch are sometimes difficult to decipher due to faded lines the council haven’t repainted.

From anyone passing by when such a game is taking place a blog in praise of Sunday football may seem quite a stretch. The majority of teams are based out of pubs in the locale with many players being in their early to mid twenties. This can led to what can be most politely described as a boisterous atmosphere both before and during the games. The on field language is often industrial and on the sidelines it’s not uncommon for the smell of cannabis to hang in the air around the managers, substitutes and handful of spectators.

Very occasionally verbal exchanges on the pitch can turn into physical violence; some exchanges have involved the police being called. When this happens the teams involved lose points or in extreme cases are banned from the league completely. This also applies to abuse of referees which sadly, and despite there being an on-going campaign to stop it and a desperate shortage of them, still goes on.

Despite the above I feel a debt of gratitude to the Sunday football scene. When I was much younger I saw one team taking part in a training session on a Wednesday evening and plucked up the courage to ask if I could train with them. Quite probably for the single reason they needed to boost their numbers my request was accepted.

This then becomes the first time in your life you are taking part in an activity with adults as an equal trying to achieve a shared aim. Little slack is given for mistakes on the pitch and resilience is required to survive your team mates feedback. I must have done tolerably well though as not only was I invited back to train again but also to actually play for the team.

Looking back over the years the team manager and players really looked after me. I was ferried to and from my parents home to various match venues and played limited minutes against the more ‘challenging’ opponents. In effect the ones most likely to be overly physical in a time when it was easier to get away with such tactics. I was even able to add the manager to my CV as a personal reference, which was most useful for both job and university applications at the time. One of the university applications was ultimately successful and that brought the curtain down on my Sunday football career.

Nowadays I’m a fairly regularly watcher of the games I used to play in at the same local fields. Many of the traits that can be transferred to a successful daily life are still in evidence. Teamwork, for example, being demonstrated through the complicated ritual of putting up and taking down the nets with all of the team required to take their turn in helping. Or the encouragement of each other when the going gets tough during the course of the game.

I know that over the past decade the number of Sunday football teams has been in decline. The reasons are many. For instance, there are more potential leisure activities for people to enjoy on the sabbath than previously, clubs are now open all night so the temptation to stay out longer on a Saturday night is increased. Additionally shorter forms of the game such as six a side have become increasingly popular and take less of a bite out of one’s free time. For me though the full Sunday morning format will always hold a special place in my heart with many great memories associated.