The end of an era?

I seem to have caused quite a stir in the Boleyn Ground’s corridors of power. The anger that had been welling up inside me since my confrontation with the vile racist IBM in December (see 9/12/08) needed an escape valve, so as well as blogging on the subject, I sent a letter to the club’s chief executive, Scott Duxbury, and pitched an article at When Saturday Comes.

The magazine jumped at the idea and asked me to write a piece for its website the same day. But as I had other commitments, they commissioned me to write a one-page feature for the magazine.

Whether it was the fact that I had warned the powers that be at West Ham that one of only two national football magazines would be publishing an article based on my damning letter, but I received a call from someone at the club.

As I didn’t really have anything else to say on the subject, I never rang him back. A few days later, after When Saturday Comes had hit the streets (see July issue, p35), he called again and left another message.

I rang the man – stadium manager Ron Pearce – back the following day. I was impressed by his determination to talk to me, until he admitted that he had lost my original letter and only remembered my name when a friend asked whether he read the article in When Saturday Comes.

I warmed to Ron, who was determined to address the problem. He had obviously done his research into the fan in question and my background, and was adamant that he didn’t want me to relinquish my season ticket. He asked whether I wanted the racist banned, but as the idiot clearly has nothing else in his life, I thought that this wasn’t a good idea. He would know straight away that I was behind it, and in the unlikely event that any of his friends can read, he could easily track me down. We settled on placing a couple of plain-clothes police offers around IBM next season to 'observe'.

Ron and I reminisced about the ‘good old days’. He was clearly a passionate and long-standing fan, and although not as jaded as me, he could clearly understand where I was coming from. He offered to move me to a better seat, but I rejected this suggestion. Part of the reason I still go to games is because I have been standing or sitting on the same piece of concrete for more than 20 years – far longer than the ignoramus behind me (far longer, in fact, than Nick Hornby ever did). The view may not be as good as it used to be, but for sentimental reasons, I am not sure that I can move. Plus, it would be admitting defeat.

I was told that if I changed my mind, I should post my application direct to Ron, who would sort me out with the best possible seat.

But with 12 hours to go until I head to Asia for eight weeks (ironically, I have timed my return to coincide with the first game of the season), I’m still ambivalent about forking out £800 for nine months of average football and foul-mouthed abuse from yobs with IQs lower than their shoe size.
 

The best of a bad lot?

Now the dust has settled on what can only be described as a better-than-expected season, I have to admit that I found it all a little boring. Yes, the quality of football has improved (although that’s not saying much after the past couple of seasons), but there were so few memorable matches – or even exciting moments.

Ask a fan to name their highlight of the season and they will be scratching their head. Securing a lucky point at Anfield? Thumping Portsmouth at Fratton Park? A draw at Stamford Bridge? Ask a fan who doesn’t attend away matches and the choice is even more limited. Hammering Blackburn 4-1? Dominating Hull? Coming back from a goal down to beat Macclesfield – after extra time? For me, the highlight was Carlton Cole winning Goal of the Month in March – something I watched on Match of the Day.

As a West Ham fan, I don’t expect to be challenging for the title. Realistically, with the big four’s resources and the money being spent by Spurs and Man City, seventh place is about the best we can do. So to come ninth is pretty respectable. But I do expect to have given one of our main rivals a ‘bloody nose’ or at the very least attended a couple of end-to-end matches, full of goals and excitement, with the result in doubt till the final whistle – and with an atmosphere to match.

If we take our biggest games of the season – the ones the fans most want to win – as those against Man United, Arsenal, Chelsea Spurs and Liverpool, 2008-09 must go down as one of the worst season in our history. In those 10 matches, we managed no wins and three draws – scoring only a single goal in the process. The results of the five home games make particularly sorry reading: 0-1, 0-1, 0-2, 0-2 and 0-3. Even more depressingly, it wasn’t as if were unlucky in any of them. We hardly created a chance and were easily beaten, which did nothing for the atmosphere.

Extending our results sequence to the matches against the fifth- and six-placed teams, Aston Villa and Everton, provides one draw and another three defeats – and only two goals. We scored at home against only one side that finished above us – Fulham. And taunting John Paintsil and Paul Konchesky hardly ranks alongside baiting Jermain Defoe or Frank Lampard.

Where was a match to rival the thrilling 3-2 win against Arsenal in January 2006, when we became the last side to win at Highbury? Or the 4-3 home win against Spurs in February 1997? What about the ‘obscene’ effort an already relegated side put in against Man Utd in April 1992, when Kenny Brown’s volley denied the Reds the title? Or the 4-1 victory at White Hart Lane in April 1994 (Steve Jones’ finest moment), Paolo di Canio beating the arm-waving Barthez in an FA Cup tie at Old Trafford in January 2001 or Leroy Rosenior’s late header to secure an FA Cup victory in Highbury in January 1989?

To put such a mundane season into perspective, I have had to look up most of our early-season results. And there it all was, in black and white. Six defeats in seven home games before Christmas. Going out of the cups after insipid performances at Championship strugglers Watford and soon-to-be-relegated Middlesbrough. Only scoring more than once twice in our last 17 games.

I know that I am in the minority – and perhaps I’ve got masochistic tendencies – but give me a relegation dogfight any day. Even an unsuccessful one.