The Gatecrasher, Dugout News terrace culture columnist

Don’t Price the Next Generation Out of Non-League

By The Gatecrasher
The Gatecrasher · Terrace Culture

Every non-league football club says it wants younger supporters — right up until younger supporters start behaving like younger supporters.

They sing. They make noise. They arrive in groups. They move around. They’re occasionally irritating. Some are occasionally complete idiots. Welcome to being 15.

The challenge facing clubs is real. Grounds must be safe. Abuse cannot be tolerated. Dangerous behaviour creates obvious problems. Parents need confidence that children can attend safely, and officials, players, volunteers and supporters should never be threatened.

Nobody sensible disputes that.

But there is another danger. In trying to eliminate every possible problem, football could accidentally eliminate part of what makes non-league attractive to young people in the first place: freedom, belonging, noise and identity.

For decades, the route into supporting your local club was gloriously uncomplicated. Meet your mates, walk to the ground, pay at the turnstile, buy chips, stand behind the goal, talk nonsense for 90 minutes, go home and repeat next Saturday. That’s how habits form.

A 14-year-old casually attending six matches can become the 40-year-old sponsor, volunteer, coach, director, groundsman or season-ticket holder. You don’t know which kid becomes which adult. That’s why young supporters aren’t an inconvenience. They’re future infrastructure.

Non-league is facing an enormous battle for their attention. Young people have PlayStation, TikTok, YouTube, Netflix, Premier League football, gaming, streaming and phones. A Step 5 club cannot assume that because grandad attended in 1987, grandson will automatically appear in 2026. He won’t. You have to earn him.

This is where non-league possesses something elite football can’t easily manufacture: access. A youngster can stand metres from the action, hear tackles and players communicating, see the manager losing his mind, get an autograph after the game and sometimes talk to the scorer in the clubhouse. Elite football increasingly feels like an event. Non-league can still feel like participation. Protect that.

When a teenager chooses your ground over staying home watching the Premier League, that’s an opportunity. Don’t immediately make the experience feel like airport security.

Some clubs understandably introduce restrictions requiring younger supporters to attend with adults. Sometimes incidents make intervention necessary. But blanket solutions can have unintended consequences. Consider the perfectly well-behaved group of 15 and 16-year-olds wanting their first taste of football independence. Mum isn’t attending. Dad isn’t interested. Their mates are going. If they’re told they cannot attend without someone over 18, they might not return when they reach 18. They’ll find another habit.

This is also a financial issue. Requiring adult accompaniment can effectively double the cost. A teenager may have £7. They may not have £7 plus an adult ticket, food and travel. For families already stretched financially, “bring an adult” can unintentionally become “don’t come.”

Non-league has traditionally been the accessible form of football. We should be extremely careful before introducing barriers that affect good youngsters because of the behaviour of bad ones.

The answer isn’t pretending teenagers never cause trouble. Anyone saying that has clearly never stood behind a goal. The answer is intelligent management. Identify individuals. Deal with individuals. Use CCTV where appropriate. Speak to parents. Work with schools and youth organisations. Have visible stewarding without treating every 14-year-old in a hoodie like a suspect.

Give youngsters somewhere to belong. Create areas where they can make noise safely. Offer affordable youth season tickets. Give them flags. Let them help create banners. Invite them into media teams. Let them interview players. Give them matchday jobs. Get them involved in fundraising.

Something interesting happens when a young person feels ownership of a club: they start policing themselves. If you’re simply a customer, you don’t care if something gets damaged. If you feel it’s your club, you tell your mate to stop being an idiot.

Clubs should also rethink how they communicate with young people. Posting a fixture graphic on Facebook and wondering why no teenagers attended probably isn’t enough anymore. Show goals, celebrations, characters, missed chances and personality. Let players engage. Create content that makes attending feel culturally relevant.

Non-league doesn’t need to pretend to be Manchester City. Its imperfections are the content. The cold terrace, the dog walking behind the goal, the volunteer chasing a runaway corner flag — that’s what makes it different.

And then there’s the mathematics. A club could spend thousands over several years attracting customers through marketing, or it can give a 13-year-old an unforgettable Saturday afternoon. If that child falls in love with the place, you’ve potentially created a supporter for the next 50 years.

Customers leave when the product becomes poor. Supporters turn up when you’re 17th and it’s raining sideways.

One day that annoying teenager banging the advertising board could be the groundsman repairing it. The kid singing too loudly might coach the under-12s. The girl filming the winning goal might become your media officer. The group of youngsters you nearly banned could eventually be the committee keeping the club alive.

Non-league football constantly talks about sustainability. Usually it means money. But sustainability isn’t just money. It’s people, succession and making sure someone loves the club enough to care when today’s directors, sponsors and volunteers are gone.

So protect our grounds. Deal strongly with genuine trouble. Protect officials, volunteers and supporters. But don’t confuse youth with disorder, and don’t sanitise football until the atmosphere resembles a library with floodlights.

Because if the next generation doesn’t fall in love with these clubs now, one day there may be nobody left to inherit them.

First published in Dugout News, Issue 3, 23 August 2026. Republished here in full.

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