Boro Mania

Our Saviour, who art in Teesside, Gibson be thy name.

Thy Stadium come, thy will be done on the pitch as it is in Heaven.

Give us clean sheets and winning goals.

And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive the FA (and media and football agents) who trespass against us.

Lead us not in to relegation, but deliver us survival.

For thine is the Boro, the pain and the glory, forever and ever.

Amen.

In a time when our faith is being subjected to the most severe of trials, we Boro fans are praying for miracles.

For most of us, football is the closest thing we experience to true religion. We follow match-day rituals, built around attending our centre of worship – The Riverside Stadium.

We follow the doctrine of Our Lord and Saviour Steve Gibson, delivered to his people by Gareth Southgate, whom he has chosen to sit at his right hand.

We anoint favoured disciples, like Juninho in the Old Testament, and perhaps Tuncay in the New. We denounce those that are exposed as false idols, such as Mido. We suffer persecution at the hands of the establishment including extra suspensions for ‘frivolous’ appeals and points deductions for ‘illegal’ postponements.

Like religion, football is filled with those who would be saviours, prophets or messiahs. Most are false. It is also filled with devils that would have you lock horns with them to be dragged down in to damnation.

Money is one of the greatest evils in our game, and it threatens the apocalyptic doom of widespread financial meltdown. Chelsea have been in the grip of this demon, and basked in untold glory. Roman Abramovich appears to have grown weary of his possession of the Blues though. Once he casts them aside, God help them.

Manchester City have coveted the glory of Stamford Bridge, and set out on the same path. Both clubs have sold their souls. It remains to be seen at what cost.

Many other clubs have also succumbed to the temptation that money brings, including Middlesbrough. As Boro overspent in the later part of the last decade, and the first part of this one, so now are Fulham, Sunderland, Tottenham and others. Boro have now returned to a righteous path.

Spoilt by the hedonism of the last eleven years, Middlesbrough Football Club is now experiencing the pain of Puritanism. We have beliefs which must be followed. These are spelt out in the sermons of Gareth Southgate, and with Book of Wages and Transfer Fees demanding particularly close adherence.

Our belief is underpinned by the blissful dream of something better. The Gospel according to Southgate tells us that we can play glorious football if the squad remains pure in spirit. But to get there we must resist temptation. We must endure trials. We must repent our sins.

We have resisted the temptation to dig deep into the Chairman’s pockets again. We must take the pain of a relegation scrap, and believe in the better times to come. If we get through this trial, we shall be spared the curse of relegation. If not, then the trial has not yet even begun.

Religion is all about faith. If you are a Christian and lose your faith, you are no longer a Christian.

Football is different. There are shades of grey. You may lose your faith in one manager, and replace him with another.

But it would be blasphemous to cast aspersions on the stature of Steve Gibson, the man who gave this club its resurrection.

Talk on the town is that our lack of activity in the transfer window shows a lack of ambition. Message boards are full of critics bemoaning the lack of investment. Some have even suggested that Gibson should sell up.

If that is the attitude of the fans, Gibson could be forgiven for selling up to the next consortium to roll up on Teesside. It seems that some fans would love nothing more than to have us owned by some soulless foreign tycoon, rather than one of our own whose funds are not inexhaustible.

The fact is that this will not happen. For one reason, Gibson loves the club and wouldn’t want to leave. For another, there would be no market for selling. It is not a prestige club. It is not profitable. Commercially, it is in a terrible position.

Faith in Gibson is not an option, it is compulsory. If he were to pack it all in, Boro would either be damned back to the lows of 1986 or be forced into accepting a lesser evil. Relocation, perhaps.

So, Boro fans, from now on thou shalt not blaspheme.

And those of you who have done so can still make amends. Your penance is thus: Seven pilgrimages to the Riverside Temple between now and the end of the season. On each of these 90 minute meditations, you will observe a period of abstinence from booing. You will get behind your team. You will chant your saviour’s name. Steve Gibson will forgive you.

Let’s just hope our prayers are answered with survival, and salvation.