Earlier this summer, for many reasons, I cancelled my subscriptions to all the sports channels. The most important of these many reasons was time: I didn’t want to spend untold hours watching live cricket in daylight hours or baseball late into the night just because I could. Our main justification for subscribing to sports channels is league football, and that finished in the spring. Throughout June and July and the start of August there was no danger of me losing time to summer sports to justify the monthly subscription.

Now the football season has started again. My wife and daughter both follow Arsenal. Last season they watched fewer games than ever before, even though Arsenal finished second in the Premier League reached the semi-finals of the Champions League. They were fine with me cancelling the subscriptions. I have followed Leeds United since childhood and took advantage of the unprecedented coverage of Championship football over the last 12 months to watch more televised Leeds games than ever before, as they won promotion back to the Premier League. I too am fine without all the sports channels. For now.

We have made it to the international break and I have managed to watch nearly every minute of the league campaign so far, in pubs. The total amount that I have spent on beer while doing so is less than a months’ worth of subscriptions. Not much less, because of the price of beer these days, but I would have spent more to watch the games at home.

We are early enough in the season for me to recall very clearly the three fixtures so far and where I was watching.

For the opening game (8pm, Monday 18 August, home to Everton) my son and I went to a pub in Hanwell that has started hosting Open Mic nights on a Monday. We played at the first such event in July. This time we were able to check out the music and follow the game simultaneously. Two birds, one stone, you know. It worked fine. Leeds won 1-0. Two pints of London Pride: £11.80.

The second game (5.30pm, Saturday 23 August, away at Arsenal) I watched at our nearest Irish bar, where Guinness is still under £5 a pint. A pint in each half, less than £10 in all, and a disastrous 5-0 defeat.

On the evening of the third game (5.30pm, Saturday 30 August, home to Newcastle) I was travelling to the Midlands to meet up with family for an overnight trip incorporating a Women’s Rugby World Cup game in Northampton the next day (Ireland v Spain). I travelled to Euston via Camden Town and watched in a pub near the station. A 0-0 draw that felt more like a pre-season game. Two pints of Guinness: £15.

The next three scheduled games are all 3pm kick-offs on the remaining Saturdays in September (Fulham away, Wolves away, Bournemouth at home). These games are never available on any of the regular UK sports subscriptions, which is all I have ever paid for. There are dodgy (possibly illegal) ways of viewing these games but I have never looked into them. I will follow these games in the usual Saturday 3pm way: updates on the web, radio commentary, “Final Score” on the BBC, that sort of thing.

All through the summer I have been comparing this new approach, weaning myself off the sports channels but still planning to watch the televised games, with something a college friend told me back in the 1980s. She and her sister shared a flat in Hampton Wick outside of term-time. They were both smokers. Most of my friends were in those days. Every now and then her sister would attempt to follow the advice that smokers were given at the time, a slightly healthier approach to the habit: don’t smoke cigarettes all the way down to the filter. Leave half an inch or more at the end. She would do so, and feel a bit better about herself. But then, late into the night, out of cigarettes and, desperate for a drag, she’d raid the ashtrays and start back on the butts, each with at least half an inch of tobacco to draw on. And then she’d feel worse about herself.

As the season progresses, and the nights get colder, will I do something comparable? Having spent less time and money on televised sport for a few weeks, will I be scrabbling around, renewing my subscriptions and watching baseball long into the night to justify the monthly fees? I hope not, but I’ll let you know.