A fan ‘The Gloucester Groundhopper’ posts a passionate open letter to new Cheltenham owner Mike Garlick, addressing concerns with the club.
While welcoming him, attention turned to the club’s decline, with @GlosGroundhop lamenting the loss of community spirit, pride, and family atmosphere at Whaddon Road.
Also mentioned was neglected stadium conditions, high £28 League Two ticket prices that exploit loyal supporters, poor on-pitch performances with a bloated squad and no clear identity, condescending leadership, nepotism, and a damaged reputation as a “laughing stock” with subpar matchday experiences.
The hope is for Garlick to rebuild lowering prices and offering family/student incentives, investing in stadium maintenance, reviving traditions like fan interactions and halftime activities, improving communication through forums and genuine feedback, ending nepotism with merit-based decisions and establishing a clear footballing philosophy, while pleading for respect, honesty, and pride to restore loyalty and prevent further alienation.
Good work by @GlosGroundhop to convey views of fans.
Some takeaways:
– £28 to watch #CTFC. I’m sorry, I am lost for words – HOW MUCH?! 28 POUNDS 🤯
– Garlick has “taken over”, yet it is all very *hush hush*. I’m sure Town fans would like to hear from Mike Garlick. https://t.co/hRGvAGpJHd
— Off The Line Blog (@OffTheLineBlog) September 4, 2025
— The Gloucester Groundhopper (@GlosGroundhop) September 3, 2025
Mike Garlick’s first words for you all 🗣️#ctfc♦️ pic.twitter.com/bBIO6WeGna
— Cheltenham Town (@CTFCofficial) August 23, 2025
THE OPEN LETTER READ:
Dear Mr Garlick,
First of all, let me welcome you to Cheltenham Town Football Club. For a supporter like me, who has grown up with this club at the centre of so many memories, it is both a relief and a source of cautious hope to see a change in ownership. New ownership means new opportunities, but it also brings responsibility.
Responsibility to the people who have stood on the terraces through wind and rain, who have poured time, money, and love into this club even when the returns have been heartbreak, disappointment, or frustration.
I am writing to you not as someone who expects miracles, nor as someone who believes football clubs can be transformed overnight, but as someone who desperately wants to feel proud again. Proud of my club, proud of my town, and proud to walk into Whaddon Road with the feeling that I belong to something that is alive and cared for. Right now, I am struggling to feel that pride.
When I was younger, Cheltenham Town wasn’t just a football club. It was family. It was a place where everyone knew each other, where a Saturday afternoon meant being part of something that felt bigger than yourself. The football mattered, of course, but it wasn’t the only thing. The club worked hard to make matchdays memorable. I remember crossbar challenges at half-time, kids on the pitch laughing while trying to strike the ball; I remember players and managers walking around, not hidden away, but mingling with fans, shaking hands, answering questions. I remember Whaddney taking photos with kids, making families smile, building bonds that meant children would drag their parents back the following week because they wanted to feel that same joy again.
Those moments stitched together something much deeper than ninety minutes on the pitch. They created an identity: Cheltenham Town was a welcoming club, a family club, a community club. That was what set us apart.
But today, when I walk around Whaddon Road, I do not feel that. The atmosphere is flat, the traditions have faded, and the stadium looks tired and neglected. What used to be my second home feels like a place falling into disrepair. And yet, fans are expected to pay significant sums of money and still feel proud to be part of it, even though the club itself seems not proud enough to maintain or invest in it.
The state of our stadium is a visible reflection of how far we’ve drifted from that sense of pride. Paint peeling from the walls, tired seating, neglected facilities—it is a sad sight for those of us who used to think of Whaddon Road as more than just concrete and steel. Research shows this isn’t just cosmetic: Deloitte’s survey of sports fans found that clean, safe stadiums with good sightlines and a sense of atmosphere are the “core fundamentals” for fan satisfaction. When the basics aren’t there, everything else suffers.
In truth, Whaddon Road doesn’t just need cosmetic care—it needs love. Fans don’t expect luxury, but they do expect a ground that reflects pride in the badge. Right now, Whaddon Road looks like a place in decline.
That decline is mirrored in how many fans talk about matchdays where once we were proud of being a small but mighty community club, now we are too often spoken about as one of the worst matchday experiences in the EFL. That is not an opinion from a few discontented voices; it’s a reputation that follows us across the league.
That lack of pride would be difficult enough to swallow, but it becomes unbearable when coupled with the pricing structure. £28 for an adult ticket. Let that sink in. For League Two football—football that has been poor at best this season—we are paying prices that rival clubs in far higher divisions.
Football is built on loyalty, but loyalty should never be abused. TaIkSPORT’s survey of supporters nationwide found that 65% of fans feel food and drink in stadiums are overpriced, and 77% support ticket price caps. The same survey revealed that fans increasingly feel “exploited” by their clubs, taken for granted because of their love. That is exactly how many Cheltenham fans feel right now.
Academic research supports this too. A study into the economics of sports attendance showed that when ticket prices are lowered by around 30%, sales can rise by more than 50%. In other words, making football affordable doesn’t reduce revenue—it often increases it by bringing more supporters through the gate. More people in the stadium means more atmosphere, more secondary spend on food and drink, and more chance for children to fall in love with the club. Right now, we are doing the opposite: we are pricing families away, reducing atmosphere, and shrinking our future fanbase.
We all understand the club has financial realities to face. But alienating supporters with unfair pricing is not the way to secure long-term stability. If anything, it drives the very decline we are trying to avoid.
Perhaps the most painful change, though, has been the loss of connection between club and supporters. For years, decisions have been made at the top that leave fans feeling ignored, patronised, and unwelcome in their own club. David Bloxham, the chairman, and Paul Baker, his close ally, have too often spoken in ways that make supporters feel small, as if our voices don’t matter, as if we are incapable of understanding the realities of running a club. That kind of condescension doesn’t just frustrate people-it alienates them.
Research into fan loyalty shows that connection and inclusion matter more than anything. Fans are not customers in the traditional sense; they are stakeholders. Deloitte’s global sports survey showed that the most engaged fans are six times more valuable than casual attendees. They don’t just buy tickets-they invest emotionally, financially, and socially. They become ambassadors for the club. But to foster that loyalty, a club must show that it values them. Cheltenham Town, for too long, has done the opposite. Nepotism and insularity have meant decisions are made for the few, not for the many.
The result is a stadium where the atmosphere is not just quiet but resigned. Fans don’t feel listened to, so they stop shouting. They stop asking. They stop believing. That is the most dangerous thing of all.
Of course, football clubs are ultimately judged by what happens on the pitch. And here too, Cheltenham Town has been letting its supporters down. Last year, we were told that the squad was being rebuilt, that this was the start of something new. What we have instead is confusion: 31 players in the squad, no settled formation, and performances that are hard to watch.
Even worse is the disconnect between what fans see with their own eyes and what they are told. When a manager insists that the football is “good,” despite results and performances suggesting otherwise, it makes fans feel not only unheard but gaslighted. Football is subjective, but there is a line between optimism and denial, and too often the messaging we hear feels like the latter. That is not how you build trust with supporters.
Clubs like Lincoln City and Burton Albion, with far fewer resources, have shown what can be done with clarity, identity, and communication. They have philosophies on the pitch and connections off it. Cheltenham, by contrast, feels adrift.
When I talk to other football fans, I am often met with a knowing look or a shake of the head when Cheltenham Town is mentioned. We are, increasingly, considered the laughing stock of the league. That is not an easy sentence to write, but it is the truth. Opposing fans do not dread coming to Whaddon Road. They don’t expect a vibrant atmosphere, a packed stadium, or a community rallying around its team. They expect, instead, a poor matchday experience, a half-empty ground, and a club that feels like it is going through the motions.
This isn’t just about pride or vanity-it has real consequences. Reputation matters in football. When a club is known for being a great place to visit, it attracts neutrals, away supporters, and potential new fans. When a club is known for being soulless, overpriced, and uninspiring, people simply don’t come. A bad reputation also makes it harder to attract players, staff, and sponsors. Nobody wants to be associated with failure or decline.
Academic studies into sports branding confirm this. Clubs with strong identities, rooted in community and pride, perform better both on and off the pitch. They command greater loyalty, higher attendances, and stronger commercial partnerships. Cheltenham Town, at present, is suffering the opposite. We are not known for passion or pride. We are known for being forgettable, for being one of the worst matchday experiences in the EFL. That is not just a challenge – it is an existential threat to the long- term health of the club.
It is easy for those at the top to think of fans as customers, but we are not. We are the lifeblood of the club. Without fans, there is no Cheltenham Town. Without fans, there is no matchday atmosphere, no financial base, no identity. And yet, too often, fans here feel ignored. We feel like an afterthought, tolerated rather than embraced.
But history shows that when clubs truly engage with their supporters, they thrive. Deloitte’s research demonstrates that the most engaged fans are the ones who spend the most, attend most often, and advocate most loudly. These are the fans who wear the shirts, bring their children, and talk about the club in their workplaces and pubs. They are free marketing, unpaid ambassadors, and loyal shareholders in spirit if not in fact. But they only give this level of loyalty if they feel it is reciprocated.
Right now, many Cheltenham fans do not feel that. They feel taken for granted. They feel patronised by previous leadership. They feel like their voice has no weight. And so, slowly but surely, they disengage. That disengagement is visible in dwindling attendances, in quieter stands, and in the resignation that has replaced the old roar of belief.
For me, this loss is personal. I remember when I was younger, dragging my friends along to Whaddon Road because I wanted them to feel the buzz I felt. I remember my dad taking me to games, teaching me the songs, showing me the players. We laughed, we shouted, we celebrated. It wasn’t about the league position—it was about belonging.
Now, when I bring friends or family, I find myself apologising. Apologising for the price of the ticket. Apologising for the state of the ground. Apologising for the quality of the football. That should never be the case. Football should be about pride, not embarrassment.
Football, ultimately, is judged on results and performances, and here too Cheltenham Town has failed to deliver. A squad of 31 players is not a sign of ambition but of muddle. No settled formation is not a sign of flexibility but of confusion. And poor football cannot be dressed up as anything else.
It is deeply frustrating for fans to be told that what we are seeing is “good.” We are not fools. We know the difference between effort and quality, between potential and performance. We can accept struggle if we see fight, direction, and honesty. What we cannot accept is being told black is white, that failure is success, and that mediocrity is excellence. That insults our intelligence and further erodes our trust.
Clubs like Luton Town have shown that even with limited resources, clear vision and honest communication can take you far. They rose from the National League to the Premier League not because they had the biggest budget, but because they had a plan, a philosophy, and a connection to their community. Cheltenham Town does not need to copy others, but it does need to learn: clarity, honesty, and identity matter more than spin.
So, what can be done? What can you, as the new owner, do to begin turning this ship around?
1. Make football affordable again.
£28 for a League Two ticket is unsustainable. Review ticket pricing with fans in mind. Create family packages, student discounts, and incentives for younger supporters. Research shows lower prices can lead to higher attendances and greater overall revenue. More importantly, it makes people feel welcome.
2. Invest in the stadium.
Whaddon Road does not need to be glamorous, but it does need to be cared for. A lick of paint, improved facilities, cleaner stands—these things matter. They send a message: we take pride in our home. Fans can forgive many things, but they cannot forgive neglect.
3. Rebuild the matchday experience.
Bring back the traditions that made Cheltenham Town special: crossbar challenges, mascot interactions, player meet-and-greets, Whaddney engaging with kids. These aren’t gimmicks-they are memories in the making. They create loyalty in children and joy in adults.
4. Open up communication.
Hold fan forums. Invite genuine feedback. Show that you are listening and that you value
supporter voices. Transparency builds trust, and trust builds loyalty.
5. End the culture of nepotism.
Appoint people on merit, not on friendship or convenience. Fans will forgive mistakes, but they will not forgive the sense that decisions are made for insiders rather than for the good of the club.
6. Establish a footballing identity
Work with the manager and football staff to create a clear philosophy. Fans can get behind a long-term plan, even if results are inconsistent, as long as they can see progress and direction. But they cannot support chaos.
We do not need to look far to see how this can work. Lincoln City transformed their fortunes not just with results but with fan engagement. They listened, they involved supporters, and they rebuilt pride. Burton Albion created a family- friendly environment that made matchdays enjoyable even when results weren’t sparkling. Luton Town showed that vision and identity can propel a club far beyond its resources.
Cheltenham Town has the same potential. We are not doomed to decline. We have a loyal fanbase, a proud history, and a community that wants to believe. But we need leadership that recognises this and acts upon it.
At its heart, football is not about money or even results. It is about people. It is about the child who falls in love with the game because of a Saturday afternoon with their dad. It is about the retiree who finds companionship in the stands. It is about the teenager who makes lifelong friends in the terraces. These are the stories that make a club.
Right now, too many of those stories are turning sour. Too many fans are drifting away, feeling alienated, unwelcome, or exploited. That is the greatest tragedy of all, because once that bond is broken, it is hard to rebuild.
But it can be rebuilt. And that is why I am writing this letter. Not because I want to complain for the sake of it, but because I believe Cheltenham Town can be better. I believe this club can rediscover its pride, its community, and its identity. And I believe you, as the new owner, have the power to make that happen.
Mr Garlick, you have inherited a club in need of care. It is bruised, neglected, and in danger of losing the very people who make it what it is. But it is not beyond saving. With fair pricing, stadium investment, fan engagement, and a clear footballing plan, Cheltenham Town can once again be a club that people are proud of.
I urge you: listen to the supporters. We are not asking for miracles. We are asking for respect, for honesty, and for a sense of pride in the club we love. Give us that, and we will give you everything in return: our loyalty, our voices, our money, and our hearts.
This club means more to us than words can say. Please, make it mean more again.
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