Olly Wicken desperately wants to convince himself that it is a good thing
The demise of Watford’s matchday programme is a good thing.
(I keep telling myself this. Soon I’m going to believe it.)
My life will improve immeasurably in its absence.
Never again will my treasured pre-match moment of smelling fried onions outside ‘Only Foods And Sauces’ be disturbed by someone shouting ‘Pwogramme!’
Never again, during the game, when the opposition’s useless number ten keeps kicking the ball straight up in the air, will I be tempted to look away from the action to consult a piece of paper that tells me his name (and possibly his height, weight, birthplace, car, and favourite meal).
Never again, when I get home after the game, will I put a £4 magazine straight into an old cardboard storage box under my bed, unread.
These are all positive developments.
They must be. I have to believe it. I cling to enough tradition already.
And there are other benefits.
Old programmes are time toilets. I throw hours of my day down the pan by browsing the square programmes from the 1980s, or admiring the graphics from 1976. In twenty years’ time, I’ll have 400 fewer in my collection than I would have done. 400 fewer calling to me when I should be mowing the lawn or doing last night’s washing-up. This is a good thing.
And think of the space I won’t use up in my loft. There’ll be more room for my 150 match-worn shirts and my rapidly expanding collection of Watford Treasury books. Yes. That’s the way to think about it. I’ll be ‘decluttering’. (Relatively. Compared to what would have happened.)
So I’m right. The demise of Watford’s matchday programme is definitely a good thing. Definitely. In fact, I’m sure I’ll come up with a few more reasons when I’ve finished drying out the tear-stained pages of this one in front of me that turned out to be the last Watford programme ever.
Sheffield Wednesday at home — May 3rd 2025. I need to get it back into pristine condition. Not for its collector value, but as a keepsake of a momentous day for my personal growth.
Comments
Since I started attending Watford matches as a 12 year old at Vicarage Road in the late 1960s, the annual fixture list has formed a trusty scaffold around which I have built much of my leisure time, whilst sometimes also supporting me through occasional tough times.
The scaffold also has a physical face. I have happily collected a match programme from every match I have ever attended. They are my prize, each one a time capsule, and a badge of honour for the sacrifices made and the sheer effort taken to be a committed supporter.
They also represent the huge range of passions and emotions I have experienced watching this wonderful game over the last 57 years. Many of the people I travelled with to these games have now passed away, some have grown to become wonderful adults. These programmes talk to me about my cherished time in their company, pre- and post-match rituals, epic travels on away days, great goals and games, and periods of deep bonding with the team and players. Now numbering over 2,000, the programmes are neatly stored at home season by season, and represent a wonderful sea of memories into which I dip from time to time.
The demise of the Watford programme now makes me ‘prostrate with dismal’ as someone once said. I am sad that the diminishing group of people who buy programmes, including newcomers, will be denied the opportunity to do what I have done. This includes my 10 year old nephew in Tonbridge, who desperately awaits the match programme I post to him after each home game and whose bedroom walls are covered from floor to ceiling with the player posters contained within. He used to read the thing from cover to cover. He will be gutted.
Apparently now we won’t even get a paper sheet showing the match day teams unless we sit amongst the freeloaders in the ‘hospitality’ areas. Even most threadbare non-League teams provide these for their loyal fans. To obtain any information about the team at all we must now fully enter the digital age where truth, fiction and lies mix freely and unchecked in AI land, where history can be manipulated or deleted, and where typically abbreviated content reflects the ephemeral nature of the platform and the limited attention span of the reader. That’s of course if you can get a signal. Progress? My arse.
Why don’t they do what some clubs have done – a monthly, or even a quarterly magazine – maybe work in conjunction with Watford Treasury.
Each month/quarter could be dedicated to the upcoming fixtures, also with coverage of the past month/quarter’s fixturse and in the case of “unknown at time of publishing fixtures” (i.e. cup games) – these could be covered in the next issue.
As one of the 455 that brought one for the Swansea game (and every home game last season) I am saddened at the news. Yes, I am fast running out of space to store them and no, I don’t have time to revisit previous seasons versions but I still have one from the first game I went to and continued to buy them out of habit. It felt reassuring and like the right thing to do and was a tradition passed onto me by my Dad who started going in the 50s and has gifted me his collection.
I suppose I’ll be £92 better off and have less clutter about the house but I do feel it’s a loss.