Warning: the following is a long post - a very long post - which I hope will be helpful to Daniel but the rest of you will spend the time better with a book.
It is embarrassing that I get a frisson of excitement as I approach the stadium. It is ridiculous that I am even aware of it if all I am doing is going to the ticket office. Once inside I want to get out of the concourse to see the green of the pitch. Perhaps the players are still on it and I can watch them
Last season was my first to the right of the managers dugout and I am pleased to see the familiar friendly faces from last season especially Ron in front of me who is a very shrewd judge of the game and Mick next to me who is very funny. From what I read this is not true in all parts of the ground but for me the camaraderie with grand people I did not know until August last year is a real pleasure. I know nothing of their lives outside the football ground and they know nothing of mine. But for about two hours on a Saturday they are good friends whose company I enjoy.
I enjoy the ritual - Birch telling us that the teams are gathering in the tunnel. the post horn gallop the waiting for the whistle and they are off.
The to and fro of the game excites me. I like listening to the reraction from the bench though Paulo is not as interesting as Nigel. I like the skill even from opposing players and even at this level.
Then there is the tension. It is real tension. Members of this forum more knowledgeable than me manage to predict scores and even scorers. At the theatre I know Hamlet will die and at the cinema James Bond will triumph but I have no idea what will happen at football. I can begin ther match by complaining at Gallagher being picked only for Gally to score a hat trick.
Normally we are under pressure to be fair and to be unbiased. Not at a football match. I don't want us to win by cheating Thierry Henry style or by diving for a penalty. However, if we win because the referee does not spot an offside fine. If an opposing centre back makes a mistake and puts the ball in the back of his net I will rejoice and feel no sympathy for him.
Football can bring emotions of which I am slightly ashamed. I pride myself on not getting angry. It did not work when Milan made no attempt to keep Pearson or when Sousa gave a reaction to the Reading defeat that seemed to just be in denial. Perhaps I can get angry at football because it does not hurt anyone and it does not matter if my judgement is flawed.
My brother w*s*r than I am cannot understand my passion for a football team. He points out that if he paid money to see an orchestra and they played badly he would not go and see them again. I was not born in Leicester and I have no great affection for the city of Leicester -- I feel I belong to Aylestone Village rather than Leicester. However, in football I am Leicester till I die.
Daniel I hope parts of this may help you. To any others who have struggled to the end I am sorry but I did warn you it was long.