Life's just so Gr-Eight down at the bottom

Go on....it'll be a laugh!!!!

Now, what do you mean by that then? Torquay United equals humour. Yes, good old rubbish lower league football.

Pat them on the head, bless 'em, they're wierdos with "we are REAL football fans" tattooed on their soap box. They're forever ready to rant and rave about Carlisle away on a Tuesday night (real), foreign imports (not real), corporate hospitality boxes (not real) and 48 pounds for a ticket (just stupid).

I must admit, you do feel a little bit different from fans of the big clubs. For a start, you actually feel involved. From the groundsman to the left back, from the tannoy announcer to the team coach driver, you know them...and they know you.

But it's your team. Not one that belongs to sponsors and shareholders and big city banks. Your team. And how proud you are of it.

With that in mind, I was a little unsure about going to Stoke last week. A friend of a friend is a Stoke fan and had a couple of spare tickets for the Worthington Cup game against Liverpool.

It was a game that had sold out within 11 hours and I had no damn business to be there. It was a Stoke game for Stoke punters.

However, the warm hand of hospitality was extended and I was made to stand on a chair while I was treated to a rousing chorus of 'Delilah' in the supporters' bar before kick-off.

By the way, the line "I felt the knife in my hand and she laughed no more" has been modified - and it's certainly not a knife anymore, according to the Potters!

Now this is where the lower league spirit kicks in again. At Stoke I experienced the underdog mentality that you just don't get in Premiership football - with the possible exception of the likes of Coventry, who realise you have to laugh otherwise you'd cry.

The game kicked off with great expectations - ticker tape, flags, scarves, balloons and loud, and I mean LOUD singing.

This lasted precisely six minutes, until Liverpool scored their first goal. There followed 20 seconds of silence, then good old 'Delilah' came back louder than ever.

Half time arrived and at 3-0 down most Stoke fans knew there was no coming back. At 4-0 a few of the fairweather supporters sneaked out.

The outraged faithful started pointing and hollering. I'm not quite sure of all the lyrics to the song that accompanied the gesticulating, but I know the last word was "off''.

The anger turned to humour as the sixth, seventh and eighth goals went in and it all proved a bit too confusing for the poor scoreboard operator. After Robbie Fowler's penalty it read Stoke 0 Liverpool 9.

The final whistle didn't produce howls of derision, just a rendition of "We love you Stoke".

When I say I really enjoyed the game, I actually mean I really enjoyed the crowd.

An 8-0 scoreline is one hell of a beating, but I commend you all for knowing that, accepting it, and taking the mickey out of yourselves in the process.

Besides, whatever the final score and however humiliating it might be, you are still Stoke fans.

You haven't sold your soul to follow a team from miles away simply because they are successful and win trophies.

You are genuine supporters and for that, this column salutes you.