We protest!

We are not on one of these hippy crap protests, where 20,000 people stand around and engage in the 19th minute's silence of the afternoon, this time in memory of "our repressed brothers and sisters who are growing up on the mean streets of Bowden, Cheshire". We are doing our protest properly; there are only two of us and we are at Blackburn vs Red Bull Salzburg.

My Austrian Friend (I do not have many English Friends) and I are sitting outside Ewood Park, putting the world to rights. "All football fans are stupid." I say, exculding us because we are, to use the vernacular, clued up. "I mean they put up with so much shit from their team and they do nothing. They have kick offs at 6AM on a Friday because that's peak viewing in Thailand and they have to pay £45 for the honour of watching Charlton and Bolton play out a 0-0 draw in the rain while wearing their sweatshop-made £39.99 replica shirt."

"Well that's all down to the rampant commercialisation of the game...." he says as we put down our McDonalds and head towards the ground.

"But part of the problem is that people just don't realise what is going on." he says as we walk past three knob-heads in jester hats. "It's like at work, people will be treated horribly and just sit there and take it. Years ago if this sort of thing happened everyone would've got up and walked out. Not only are people being shafted now-a-days but they're bending over, accepting it, telling the shafter how much the like it and then going ass to mouth. All because they're worried they'll get sacked and Little Johnny won't be able to get a new DVD this month".

We reach the only logical conclusion and blame everything on a mix of Rupert Murdoch and Margaret Thatcher.

Inside the ground, our protest banner - "Hate Red Bull, Glazer, Sky and Modern Football" - is met with ignorance and apathy. It takes me five attempts just to convince the Stewards that the Red Bull team Blackburn are playing doesn't come from Strasbourg but Salzburg.

I even have to explain why I hate modern football. (Although thanks to Rio Ferdinand continuing to make an ass of himself it is getting a lot easier) On the plus side - we are fighting back. Manchester United have asked me why I didn't renew my season ticket and rather than writing an essay about the ills of the modern game, I summed it up elloquently in seven simple words.

"Malcom Fucking Glazer and his Bastard Sons."