COUNTY VIEW: Breakups don’t have to be forever

Sad to relate, your columnist’s long-term relationship came to an end before Christmas. And while it would be wrong to say it left no scars, in the long run it was probably best for both of us.
We had been together for the best part of 20 years. Yes, we had our ups and downs, as every couple has. Our share of the silent treatments, inordinate demands, sullen silences, threatened walkouts, unanswered messages – but no different from any other pair. And we always seemed to make up again. 
But this time it was different.
For SkyTV and me, we knew the time had come to pull the plug. Enough was enough, and when the weekly demands for contribution went up yet again, there could be only one outcome.
It wasn’t as if I hadn’t been warned. Friends who had been down that road all had the same story. The shameless hussy would bleed her loyal partners for all she could get, and at the same time she would be making eyes at other, younger suitors, offering them cut-price rates and all sorts of enticements to attract them into the lair. 
And I had been warned of the faceless, anonymous members of the Sky Customer Team, who might (or, more often, might not) reply to my plethora of e-mails, letters, phone calls and text messages vainly hoping for a reply. And so it turned out. One could never be sure of exactly which members of the Customer Team one was in contact with – the centre field, the full back, the goalie? And equally, it was difficult to pin down the exact location of one’s interlocutor – it could be Mumbai or Scotland, or even as close as the secretive headquarters which, according to the available information, was located in Dublin 4.
Looking back now, the rot seems to have set in when Sky Sports began to row back on its assumed commitment to provide coverage of all games involving Manchester United (or simply Man U, as we devotees tend to call it).
Early on, all the Red Devils games were, without exception, available on Sky. But then, bit my bit, it emerged that my paramour had been ceding my armchair tickets to Setanta, or TNT, or Eurosport, meaning that I now required additional subscriptions to new channels, or else go without.
Complaints to Sky resulted in nothing more than honeyed words, and an assurance that, by and large, your scribe was still getting the best deal on offer. From there, things went from bad to worse, and soon it became clear that our paths were drifting apart.
All of which might not have been so bad were it not that the bumps in the relationship were coinciding with the abysmal nosedive in the fortunes of Man U. Being asked to pay an increased levy every six months might have been tolerable had the Red Devils been commanding the world of football as they had been under Sir Alex. That warm glow of football supremacy which Old Trafford fans had come to expect as of right might have justified the price hiking which Sky figured that the viewers would tolerate.
But that was a long time ago, before it became a penitential exercise to sit and watch a floundering, once great, team losing game after game against teams that, in the old days, were hardly fit to lace the boots of the Manchester heroes. For a true fan reduced to throwing a frustrated shoe at the screen, or clasping his head in despair (while at the same time being charged top dollar for the privilege), it was just too much to take. Thanks, but no, thanks.
And so, at the back end of the year, as we call it, it came time to pull the plug. I am out of here, was the message, and I won’t be coming back.
What followed was a string of messages feigning hurt surprise at the way things had turned out. There were whispered threats that such a walkout – without going through the normal separation legalities – might entail a heavy penalty, and even legal action.
And then in the first days of the New Year, a text arrived which opened with the words ‘Breakups don’t have to be forever’ and contained a tempting offer to let bygones be bygones, and perhaps rekindle our old relationship. It was a nice example of the human touch – almost enough to soften the heart, but not quite. And my erstwhile partner was prepared to let me back into the house, this time at a subscription level of half what it was before, with a few extra trinkets thrown in.
For now, however, your scribe will stick with Saorview. After all, a man can only eat one dinner at a time, just as a man can only watch one channel at a time.
That is, of course, unless Man U start winning a greater number of matches and resume their rightful place at the pinnacle of football.
But how likely is that to happen?