Bringing Back the Crowds – Backing The Intentions Of The Club Owners

The numbers are down. Caiden James nailed it in The Swan Dive, laying bare the slow drift from packed Saturdays to rows of empty seats. It’s not just about results. It’s about connection. The club once felt like it belonged to the people in the stands. Now, too often, it feels like something happening in the distance. The East Stand still holds its voice, but the rest of the ground has started to echo. (Read Caiden’s article here)

This summer gave us something different. The transfer window wasn’t just busy. It was brave. Signings with intent, exits that made sense, and a feeling that someone behind the scenes finally gets it. That kind of clarity deserves more than a polite clap. It deserves people back through the gates. If the club is ready to fight for its future, the stands need to show up. Not out of habit. Out of belief.

So what’s holding people back. Is it the hangover from Covid, the chaos of TV scheduling, or the years of football that felt more like a chore than a joy. Maybe it’s all of it. But if we’re serious about rebuilding the crowd, we need to understand why it drifted in the first place and what can be done to bring it home.

😷 The Covid Hangover

It’s easy to forget how strange it all was. A full season played out in silence. No chants, no groans, no last-minute limbs. Just empty seats and piped-in crowd noise that fooled no one. For a year, football became something you watched, not something you lived. That shift, forced and unnatural, left a mark that still hasn’t faded.

Supporters found other routines. Saturday wasn’t sacred anymore. You could walk the dog, take the kids out, or just stay in and stream the game with a cup of tea. No traffic, no queues, no freezing in the East Stand. It was convenient, and for some, it stuck. The matchday ritual was broken. Getting your ticket, meeting your mates, grabbing a pint, feeling the buzz — all of it lost its rhythm. Rebuilding that isn’t just about opening the gates again. It’s about making people feel like it’s worth coming back.

There’s also the emotional side. That year reminded people how fragile the connection can be. When the club feels distant, when the football’s flat, when the decisions off the pitch don’t reflect the people in the stands, it’s easier to stay away. Covid didn’t just change habits. It exposed how thin the thread had become for some supporters. Once that thread snaps, it takes more than a good result to tie it back together.

We’re still living with that hangover. The crowd isn’t just smaller. It’s quieter, less certain, more fragmented. Some haven’t been back since. Others come now and then, but the pull isn’t as strong. If we want to bring the crowd back, we need to understand that it’s not just about selling tickets. It’s about rebuilding trust, routine, and the emotional pull that makes a cold Tuesday night feel like the only place you should be.

📺 The TV Trap

It’s hard to plan your week when the fixture list feels like a moving target. The current Sky EFL deal has turned matchdays into a guessing game. Saturday at three o’clock used to be sacred. Now it’s just a placeholder. Games get shifted for broadcast, sometimes with barely a week’s notice. Supporters who work weekends or travel from outside the city are left scrambling. You can’t build routine when the routine keeps changing.

It’s not just the diehards who feel it. The floating supporter, the one who might go to five or six games a season, is now faced with a choice. Do you head to the ground, pay for parking, grab a ticket, and commit your evening? Or do you stay home and watch it on the box. Midweek games make that choice even easier. Cold night, long day, and the match is live on TV. For many, the pull of the sofa wins.

This isn’t about blaming Sky. It’s about recognising the cost. Every time a fixture moves, someone drops off. A parent who can’t bring their kid. A mate who works nights. A group who used to meet before kick-off but now can’t make it work. These aren’t just numbers. They’re the people who built the atmosphere, who made the dot com feel alive. When they’re missing, you feel it.

There’s also the emotional disconnect. Watching on TV is passive. You don’t feel the tension in the stands, the roar after a goal, the shared frustration when a decision goes against you. You see the game, but you don’t live it. Over time, that changes how people relate to the club. It becomes something you observe, not something you’re part of.

If we want to bring the crowd back, we need to fight for consistency. That means clearer scheduling, fewer late changes, and a recognition that the matchday experience starts long before kick-off. It’s not just about broadcasting the game. It’s about protecting the culture around it. Once that culture fades, it’s hard to get it back.

💤 The Football That Sent Us to Sleep

You can support your club through anything. That’s what they say. But even the most loyal supporter needs something to hold on to. A moment, a spark, a reason to believe. For too long, we didn’t get that. Under Martin, Duff, and Williams, the football was flat. Possession for possession’s sake. Sideways passes. No urgency, no bite, no sense that we were trying to win a game. It wasn’t just dull. It was draining.

Martin talked about control. Duff talked about structure. Williams talked about identity. But what we saw on the pitch was often the same. Slow build-up, no risk, and a style that felt more like a training exercise than a match. There were flashes, of course. A good half here, a decent run there. But they were exceptions. The rule was boredom. And boredom, over time, breaks the bond.

Supporters want to feel something. Anger, joy, frustration, pride. Anything but apathy. But apathy crept in. You’d turn up out of duty, not excitement. You’d watch the game and feel nothing. That’s dangerous. Because once people stop feeling, they stop coming. And when the football feels like a chore, the crowd starts to thin.

This wasn’t just about tactics. It was about decisions behind the scenes. Managers appointed without a clear plan. Styles that didn’t suit the squad. A disconnect between what the club said and what it showed. Supporters aren’t stupid. They see through the spin. And when the football doesn’t match the message, trust erodes.

Getting people back after that kind of spell takes time. You can’t just flip a switch. You need to show that things are different. That the football is worth watching. That the club is listening. The recent changes suggest we’re heading that way. But the damage from those seasons won’t vanish overnight. It left a mark. And if we want the crowd back, we need to earn it.

🔄 The Window That Changed the Mood

This summer felt different. Not just busy, not just reactive, but deliberate. The transfer window showed a level of intent we haven’t seen in years. Players came in who fit the system. Players left who needed to. There was clarity in the moves, not chaos. And for the first time in a while, it felt like someone behind the scenes was thinking about the supporter as much as the squad.

That matters. Because when the football has been flat and the connection frayed, you need more than words. You need action. This window was action. It said we’re not just surviving, we’re trying to build. It said we’re not just filling gaps, we’re shaping something. And supporters noticed. You could feel it in the conversations, in the tone online, in the way people started asking when the next home game was.

It’s not just about who we signed. It’s about what it signals. A club that wants to be watched. A team that’s being built with purpose. That doesn’t mean everything’s fixed. It doesn’t mean the crowd will bounce back overnight. But it’s a start. And it’s a start that deserves backing.

Supporters are cautious, and rightly so. We’ve seen false dawns before. But this feels more grounded. More connected to what the club should be. If the football follows the intent, if the performances match the ambition, the crowd will come. Not all at once. Not in a flood. But steadily, game by game, seat by seat.

Rome wasn’t built in a day. Neither is a crowd. But this window laid the bricks. Now it’s about keeping the momentum, showing that this wasn’t a one-off, and proving that the dot com is worth filling again.

Absolutely, Phil. Here’s the full article reproduced from Section 6 onward, with every reference to “the Liberty” updated to “the dot com,” and the tone kept sharp, practical, and emotionally grounded. No double dashes, no ems, and no AI gloss—just supporter realism and a closing message that lands with purpose.

🎟️ What Should Be Done

The transfer window showed intent. Now it needs backing. Not just in words, not just in hope, but in numbers. The dot com needs to feel alive again. And while performances and results will always be the biggest driver, the club can’t sit back and wait. It needs to act. Because bringing back the crowd isn’t just about football. It’s about making people feel wanted.

Start with the basics. Incentives that actually speak to the community. Kids for a quid isn’t just a catchy slogan. It’s a way to build the next generation of supporters. Make it regular, not one-off. Tie it to fixtures that need a boost. Let parents know that the club wants their kids in the stands, not just on the mailing list.

Then look at the fixture list. Some games sell themselves. Others need help. Link tickets across those fixtures. Buy for a Saturday, get a midweek game half price. Build bundles that reward loyalty and encourage people to commit. Not everyone can afford to go every week. But if the club makes it easier, more will try.

Work with the city. Big employers, local businesses, schools. Offer discounts, group packages, community tie-ins. Make matchday feel like a civic event again. When the club was at its best, it felt like it belonged to Swansea. Not just to the boardroom. That connection needs rebuilding. And it starts with making people feel part of it.

Communication matters too. Don’t just announce offers. Explain them. Tell the story. Show the faces. Let supporters see that the club is trying, not just selling. Use the players, the manager, the community team. Make it personal. Because when people feel seen, they show up.

And don’t forget the matchday itself. Make it worth the trip. Improve the food, the flow, the atmosphere. Bring back the buzz. Supporters don’t just come for the ninety minutes. They come for the feeling. If the club gets that right, the crowd will follow.

None of this works without results. That’s the truth. But results alone aren’t enough. The club needs to meet supporters halfway. Show that it understands the barriers. Offer real solutions. Build trust. Because once that trust returns, the numbers will too.

🧭 The Road Back

The signs are there. A strong transfer window. A clearer sense of direction. A squad that looks like it wants to play. But if we want to bring back the crowd, we need more than hope. We need action, patience, and a recognition of what’s gone wrong.

Attendance won’t bounce back overnight. Too much has happened. Covid broke the rhythm. TV broke the routine. Flat football broke the feeling. And all of it chipped away at the connection between club and crowd. That takes time to rebuild. But it can be done.

The club has made a start. Now it needs to keep going. Performances matter. Results matter. But so does the experience. So does the effort to make people feel part of something again. If the football is brave, if the messaging is honest, and if the matchday feels like it belongs to the city, the crowd will return.

It won’t be instant. It won’t be easy. But it’s possible. And it’s worth fighting for. Because when the dot com is full, when the East Stand is bouncing, when the crowd believes again, this club becomes something more than just a team. It becomes a movement. And that’s what we need now.