Why I’ll Never Support a “Big Six” Team

I’ve had countless conversations at pubs, stadiums, and online forums that begin the same way: “So, who do you support?” When I answer with a mid-table or even lower-league side, I’m usually met with a chuckle or a confused glance. “Why not one of the big six?” they ask. And every time, my answer is the same, it just doesn’t feel right.

Supporting a football club is more than chasing trophies or basking in global fame. It’s about roots, identity, and a sense of belonging. The so-called “Big Six”, Manchester United, Manchester City, Liverpool, Chelsea, Arsenal, and Tottenham, are footballing giants, no doubt. Their global fanbases, overflowing trophy cabinets, and endless media coverage prove it. But in that size, something crucial gets lost: the soul of the game.

The Manufactured Spectacle

Let’s be honest. Following a Big Six club today often feels like supporting a corporation more than a community. You’re buying into a product: sleek kits, billion-dollar stadiums, social media engagement strategies, and global tours. It’s brilliant for business, but for someone looking for authenticity, it feels hollow. The line between club and brand is almost invisible now.

You’ll see fans who’ve never stepped foot in England arguing passionately online about their “beloved” Big Six side. That’s fine, football is global, but when your club is more about algorithms than atmosphere, something’s gone sideways. It’s not about gatekeeping fandom; it’s about craving something real, something grounded in local tradition, not marketing metrics.

The Financial Divide

It’s no secret that the Big Six operate on a different financial planet. The massive TV deals, Champions League payouts, and commercial partnerships mean they can outspend entire leagues. When you can drop £100 million on a benchwarmer, it’s hard to talk about fair competition.

What’s worse is the entitlement that follows. A bad run of five games and suddenly it’s the manager’s fault, or the players aren’t “fit to wear the shirt.” Fans start booing their own team for drawing away from home. Meanwhile, clubs outside the elite grind week after week, often with a fraction of the resources, just to stay afloat.

That grind is what makes football beautiful, the struggle, the improbable wins, the survival stories. With the Big Six, the scales are so tilted it barely feels like sport anymore.

Glory-Hunting Doesn’t Resonate

When someone picks a club because “they win a lot,” I immediately tune out. Where’s the emotion in that? Where’s the loyalty when things go south? The greatest moments I’ve experienced as a football fan came not from lifting silverware, but from avoiding relegation on the final day, beating a local rival against the odds, or seeing a homegrown talent break into the first team.

It’s easy to cheer when you’re winning. True support is found in the cold, rainy away days when your team is bottom of the table and the only thing keeping you going is blind hope and unshakable love. That’s what supporting a club is supposed to feel like, not a luxury cruise where you abandon ship when the champagne runs out.

The European Super League Betrayal

Let’s not forget how quick the Big Six were to sell out the game in 2021. The European Super League debacle was a slap in the face to every fan who still believed in sporting merit. These clubs tried to build a closed ecosystem, prioritizing revenue over rivalry, prestige over principle.

They were only stopped because of fan outrage. But the damage was done. It was clear: they would throw away 150 years of football tradition for a bigger slice of the pie. Supporting a team that backed that idea just feels… wrong.

Real Clubs, Real Communities

What draws me to the smaller clubs is their humanity. These are teams where the chairman knows the groundskeeper, where the kitman has been around longer than the players, and where the fans genuinely shape the identity of the club. When we lose, it hurts. When we win, it means everything.

You don’t follow these clubs for the glamour, you follow them because they’re yours. They reflect your town, your accent, your struggles, and your pride. You stand shoulder to shoulder with supporters who don’t just show up for derbies and finals, but for cold Tuesday nights in December. That’s real football.

I Want More Than Silverware

I’ve seen supporters cry after winning the Championship playoff final, not because they’re chasing Premier League titles, but because of the journey. Twenty years in the lower leagues, administration battles, pitch invasions, last-minute goals, every second etched in memory. That’s what football gives us. Not just success, but meaning.

Supporting a Big Six team feels like skipping the story and jumping to the ending. But I want the whole novel, with all its plot twists, heartbreaks, and unexpected joy.

It’s Not Hate, It’s Just Not Love

I don’t hate the Big Six. I respect their histories, their players, and what they’ve achieved. But they’re not for me. I’m not moved by £100 million signings or glossy launch videos. I’m moved by that one lad in the crowd who’s been attending since the ’70s, by the gaffer who takes time after games to greet fans, and by the raw, imperfect charm of a club that still feels like home.

So no, I’ll never support a Big Six team, not because I’m stubborn, but because I want more from football than just silverware and success. I want belonging, I want heartbreak, I want joy that isn’t bought but earned. And that’s something no billionaire club can offer.