The 6 Types of Football Fans You'll Meet During the World Cup 2022

Love it. Hate it. You just can’t escape it: The Qatar World Cup is here, so, for the next three and a half weeks, prepare to spend half your waking life packed into pubs with some of the deadliest weapons known to man: football fans. 

And although the tabloids would have you believe that all followers of the beautiful game are exactly the same (think: your man who stuck the flare up his arse), these days, there’s many types of different fans – six to be exact – all of which are neatly contained within the word limit of this article. Funny how that works out! 

So, without further ado, put on your favourite football scarf and force those depressing thoughts about bribery and corruption to the backs of your minds – here’s every type of football fan you’ll meet during the 2022 World Cup. 

Some fans play football. Other fans watch it. Then there’s the small subset of fans who really watch football and see things we’ll never see: Call them the Anoraks. 

They aren’t hard to spot: prowling the touchlines of the Hackney Marshes in their technical jackets, or thumbing the pages of Mundial inside a warm micropub. They’re the Powerleague Pep Guardiolas: They’ve forgotten more about footy than us mere mortals will ever know. Fans like this can tell you the passing accuracy of every player in the Swedish second division, and they will. The Anorak can’t wait to share their wealth of football knowledge with the world. 

Let’s be honest: The Anorak is more than likely a bloke, isn’t he? It’s that male urge to turn every fun and harmless hobby into a crushingly monastic way of life. Some men follow God. Others follow the expected goals philosophy. Unless you're looking for a 40 minute lecture about the radical ascent of Graham Potter’s Östersund side, steer well clear. 

Despite the best efforts of Ian Wright, the Lionesses and the onset of the 21st century, some football fans just aren’t for changing. Take this old fella – he’s been wearing the same pair of bootcut jeans since the 1974 World Cup, and his politics haven’t moved on much either. Look! There he is, turning the same colour as a Fray Bentos meatball as Marcus Rashford takes the knee.

"BOO! STICK TO FOOTBALL!" the Dinosaur yells, "AND WHERE’S HIS POPPY?!" Fuck me. He’s more right wing than Mohamed Salah. And is that an ICF tattoo on his arm? Maybe watching the next match at home with your mates isn’t such a bad idea after all…

You’ve never met someone so cultured in all your life: half English, half French, half Brazilian, oh, and they’ve got extended family in Spain, just in case any of those teams get knocked out. It’s as if they’ve stolen every pick in the office sweepstakes.  Whoever wins the World Cup, they do, too. Cheating bastard. 

This sexually aroused superfan hibernates during the Premier League season and only ever emerges during the World Cup. Fuck the football. They’re here for one thing and one thing only: to catch a glimpse of Jack Grealish’s bulging calves. 

And who can blame them? With his boyband hair and gigawatt smile, England’s favourite himbo has done more to bring the girls and gays to football than any FA campaign ever will – he even makes the Dinosaur feel things he’s never felt before. 

Without this pillar of the World Cup community, every pub in England would devolve into a cesspit of stale lager and “German Bomber” chants. Horny football fans, we salute you. Now, c’mon Jack, give us some goals... 

They’re boycotting the World Cup in Qatar. Yeah, okay, they’re standing next to you at the bar, but they’re not actually watching the match. They’ve got their arms folded and their back to the screen. 

Corruption? Slavery? Anti-LGBTQ laws? The Woke Lad makes some good points, but fuck me, they really want to have this conversation here!? Now!? Just before a penalty shootout that could get us through to the knockout rounds?

“The Women’s Euros,” the Woke Lad says in his Oxford drawl, “now that was a competition worth watching. Equal pay? If anything the women should earn MORE than the men.” You nod and smile politely. He starts again: “And, I mean, taking the knee? More like, taking the piss! If Marcus Rashford was serious about his activism, he’d never have travelled to Qatar.”

Hang on a minute… you’re starting to suspect that The Woke Lad talks as much bollocks as The Dinosaur. Somebody turn him off!

Beer. Gear. The Menace is here. This likely lout has been banned from Wembley Stadium but not Boxpark Wembley (not yet, anyway). You’ll hear him before you see him, leading the room in a rousing rendition of “Don’t Take Me Home”. It’s powerful. It’s poignant. Oh, he’s got his arse out again. 

Blokecore? The Menace came out the womb in a Stone Island jumper. He’s got more badges than a Boy Scout – but instead of putting up tents, he puts away pints. There’s a menace inside all of us: They’re the best of us. They’re the worst of us. They’re about a half pint of Kronenbourg away from sticking a lit flare up their arse.

So there you have it, folks: three billion World Cup viewers neatly boiled down into six archetypes. If you’ve made it this far, you’ve now got as much ball knowledge as John Terry, Gary Neville, and Richard Keys combined. Get in. 

@snakedenton