How to create a football fanzine
Created | Updated Jan 28, 2002
And you're in luck, because that's what I'm writing here. I set up a fanzine of my own, and if I can do it, anyone can :-)
Firstly, you need to be a fan. You need lots of opinions, and a fair amount of self-belief. I tend to buy my self-belief from the off-licence, it costs a mere 60p a can.
Other requirements for a fanzine are basic literacy and access to a computer. Lots of friends who support the same club are valuable, but as anyone will tell you, I have no friends and I'm not doing too badly.
To kick your fanzine off, think of a name. Something related to the club's name is good, and bad puns are almost compulsory. Mine's called Fe, because the club's nickname is the Iron. You also need a logo. I used the periodic table entry for Iron, which seems a bit intellectual, but hey, it's easy to draw :-)
Next, prepare the content. Lots of jokes, preferrably the kind that can be strung out into a full-page article rather than one-liners. And some serious opinions. What every fanzine editor really longs for is controversy and scandal. Unfortunately, the off-licence doesn't sell any of that, so I just complain about the quality of referees a lot. I also write homages to players no-one else likes, safe in the knowledge that I can always claim I was only joking.
When you've got some content, type it up and format it. If you have a fancy-dan DTP programme, this comes in handy. I use my dad's computer, and his idea of DTP is Word. But then, fanzines are meant to look a little rough.
Pictures are also useful. I can't draw, so I resort to stealing pictures from websites, and bribing my boyfriend to draw the odd cartoon. But I've worked out how to get speech bubbles on photos (yes, amazingly it _is_ possible with Word), so that's progress.
Once you've formatted everything nicely, you head down to your local copy shop and have some copies made. Or if you have an office photocopier and you don't think your boss will miss an extra 300 pages, go ahead. However you make your copies, you have to staple them and then distribute them.
Distribution's my least favourite bit. If I drink too many cans of self-belief I end up having to run to the loo every two minutes, but not enough and I just sit silently in a corner. Basically, you put your fanzines in a bag, take them to a football match and stand somewhere prominent shouting "Who wants to buy this lovely fanzine? Only" however much you decided to charge. 50p or a pound is a good price. 99p is not - remember, you're providing the change as well.
Some people will buy your fanzine without realising what it is. Away fans may think it's a programme, and parents often buy for their kids, blissfully unaware of the robust language inside. Whether you make a sale under these conditions is between you and your conscience.
Finally, don't forget to send a copy to When Saturday Comes, who keep a list of all football fanzines. When you get listed there, your postbag fills up rapidly with letters pleading for causes you would never otherwise be aware of. The cross-section of humanity that writes to a fanzine editor is fascinating. I think it's my favourite part of being a fanzine editor.