Thursday 23 September 2010

Far from the dwindling crowd

‘Don’t Miss The Most Anticipated Game of the Season … Under 3,000 Tickets Left … Many Stands Sold Out’. Many stands sold out? If Saturday’s game being promoted like a movie was not depressing enough, then the implied achievement of multiple stands (there are only four) selling out is surely enough to make you wonder how it ever came to this.

Clearly attendances have not fallen off a cliff this season, but there is a notable difference. The attendance at the Chelsea game was the lowest against the plastics since 2001, whilst the attendance at the Bolton game was the lowest against the hoofers since a freakishly low turnout in 2005 (though still far superior to anything you would ever see at the Reebok of course). Empty seats have become particularly apparent with big gaps at the top corners of the west stand.

Against a backdrop of rising unemployment and a slow recovery from recession, perhaps the only surprise is that crowds actually remain as high as they do. For the majority of fans it seems that this season’s price freeze was enough of a compromise on the club’s part to keep them coming.

West Ham’s most expensive season ticket is dearer than Liverpool’s, while cheaper season tickets can be found at Chelsea. Now that the biggest games are not even sell-outs, the argument of supply and demand starts to look flawed.

Last weekend Borussia Dortmund fans boycotted the big derby match at Schalke because ticket prices had gone up by 50%. Hitting the club in the pocket is the only way to effect change, but in England a protest seems to entail a couple of ‘sack the board’ chants and a green and yellow scarf.

Incredibly, the price rise at Schalke meant that fans visiting the Veltins Arena still only pay £19. The average attendance is just over 60,000. David Gold has spoken about a goal of bringing down prices. Surely a time of declining gates is as good a time as any to test the theory of price elasticity.

On the subject of empty seats, I am not sure that I have ever seen such a mad dash for the exit as at White Hart Lane on Tuesday night during extra time. For a moment I thought a fire alarm had gone off. Sadly it did not spare those of us watching from another tortuous rendition of ‘Oh when the Spurs go marching in’, possibly the least inspiring footy chant of all time.

No Hiding Place

I had one of those Likely Lads moments at the weekend when I tried to make it home from central London late afternoon without finding out the result. Having invested in a new box earlier this year, the novelty of being able to record TV still has not worn off despite the fact that until a few years ago I had a VCR which did exactly the same thing.

I am convinced that it is physically impossible to leave your house and avoid finding out the score of any given game. There is probably some sort of equation, such as x number of miles travelled multiplied by x number of hours travelled multiplied by population density = you’ve got no chance.

However, I naively thought I could survive a 20-minute train journey out of Cannon Street. I was doing ok until a moron entered the carriage and chose to share with everyone just how bad his bets for the day were going, with West Ham’s draw being a contributing factor. He had predicted a Stoke win but, undeterred, proceeded to share with his fellow passengers his belief that West Ham are destined for relegation.

The game itself was therefore a nice surprise as we put in a good performance and could easily have nicked all three points. Admittedly, Stoke hit the woodwork twice but unless I am mistaken one of those chances would have hit the back of the net were it not for a brilliant reflex save from the much-maligned Robert Green. In any case, after the bizarre deflected Chelsea goal two weeks ago, not to mention Kevin Davies’ unpunished assault on Matthew Upson, I don’t think the tiniest bit of good fortune is undue.

Sit down if you love West Ham

Knowing that I am going to be on holiday this coming week and will therefore miss the Tottenham game reminds me of how I feel about missing my Sunday league team’s games. A small, selfish part of me does not want them to win, since that would suggest they don’t really need me.

Clearly my presence at Upton Park does not affect the result (my lucky socks notwithstanding) but the possibility of having sat through endless dire performances over the last year, only to miss our first win over Tottenham for four years makes me feel a little sick.

Then again, I missed the same game last season for the same reason, and reading a text that said we had lost, even if it did mention that England had won the Ashes, was not a good feeling. I have found someone to use my season ticket so my seat will not be empty. Here’s hoping that can be said for the rest of the ground.

Thursday 16 September 2010

I’m not fickle. I just don’t think we’re very good

Amongst the clubs I have a not so obvious dislike for is Portsmouth. Pompey’s fans win many plaudits for the atmosphere they generate at Fratton Park and laudable though this is, I wouldn’t necessarily want it replicated at Upton Park. Even when they concede a goal the chimes keep chiming and the fans keep singing. They barely miss a beat.

I understand that they do this in their role as motivators to the team, but it seems to me unnatural and not really in-keeping with the instinctive emotions you experience as a supporter. Surely you need at least a few seconds, if not a few minutes, to regain your composure before you find your voice again and chant about, let’s say, the failure of John Terry’s mother to always pay for her goods.

When the chips are down and the fans have spent their working week reading about the plight of their club, come matchday there is always a distinct feeling of solidarity in the West Ham crowd. There are countless examples of this but three in particular stand out for me:

1. In October 2006, following eight successive defeats the fans defiantly chanted Alan Pardew’s name at the start of a game against Blackburn that we went on to win. Pardew said after the game: “I was moved at the start and we responded to that.”

2. One of my earliest West Ham memories is watching the 1991 FA Cup semi final on TV and hearing the incessant chant of ‘Billy Bonds’s Claret and Blue Army’, as the team fell to a 4-0 thrashing at the hands of Brian Clough’s Forest.

3. More recently, at Goodison Park towards the end of last season with relegation looking increasingly likely, and despite having endured a first half in which we went a goal down and saw Mido hit the worst penalty of all time, the Hammers fans started the second half singing ‘We Are West Ham’s claret and blue army’ and didn’t stop until the final whistle. I was not surprised to read in Four Four Two’s guide to the 2010/11 season an Everton fan choose West Ham as the best away fans.

Our current predicament does not stoke such emotion in me. In October 2006, we knew we had just been spoilt by a top-half finish and an FA Cup final appearance. Pards had brought us back from the brink and we weren’t about to turn on him. In 1991, we were playing with ten men thanks to that Keith Hackett decision against a team a division above us. And last season, we were so hopeless that by April we knew that our fate effectively lied in the hands of Hull and Burnley. Under such circumstances singing in the face of adversity was all there was left to do.

At present, I feel little affinity with a manager whose appointment I never could fathom and I certainly am not revelling in any kind of underdog status so early in the season. At the Chelsea game though, I was conscious of others already embracing this us-against-them ethos. At the final whistle, a man behind me stood up, pushed out his chest and proudly clapped for what seemed to me like an eternity, bursting with pride at this 3-1 defeat. He presumably saw this as a sign of loyalty. Conversely, I found it a bit embarrassing and symbolic of just how quickly people’s expectations have plummeted.

I have no quarrel with a man backing his team through thick and thin. What I object to is the idea that no matter how many games we lose, no matter how many passes Noble misplaces, no matter how much Upson and Green persist with recreating their World Cup gaffes, no matter how much energy Behrami wastes whining at the referee, no matter how small the player is that outjumps Haim, no matter that Piquionne manages to hit the bar when practically standing on the line, we should feel compelled to show our appreciation just as we would if the team were actually, I don’t know, playing well.

A bit like deciding how many blocks away from Ground Zero it is acceptable to build a mosque, there seems to be a grey area surrounding the question of how many games we can go without winning before it is ok for the Davids to ask Karen Brady to fire Avram. This is a question for them but for the fans I would suggest that what matters in order to avoid the dreaded ‘fickle’ tag, is what you thought of Avram four weeks ago.

Aston Villa fans put it well a few years ago when then manager David O’Leary accused them of being fickle. A banner at the following game read: We’re not fickle. We just don’t like you. Avram has not done anything to merit being disliked and only the most pig-headed of fans would want anything but for him to turn things around.

I do, however, find it hard to understand his decision to miss the game at Stoke in order to mark Yom Kippur. There has been little criticism of his decision, and I suspect that many fear that voicing their objection would lead to accusations of ignorance or intolerance. After all, a section of West Ham fans, albeit a small one, are prone to the odd anti-semitic remark.

I am more than happy to state that I feel his decision is rather insensitive and ill-judged given our start to the season, and stands in stark contrast to the actions of our opponent’s manager, Tony Pulis, who attended Monday night’s victory over Aston Villa, despite the death of his mother earlier that day. Defeat on Saturday with Avram away focusing on his personal life ahead of his commitments to West Ham could see that majority that still support him start to dwindle.

Avram does not have the luxury of falling back on a strong track record. He oversaw the only Chelsea campaign in the last six seasons which did not result in silverware, whilst his tenure at Portsmouth can at best be described as an exercise in damage limitation. Pre-season talk of mid-table security for West Ham has quickly been superseded by the goal of avoiding relegation. I am struggling to share Pompey fans’ passion for damage limitation.

Friday 10 September 2010

Frank to take criticism in his stride? Fat chance

When Frank Lampard steps on to the pitch on Saturday afternoon the reception will be quite predictable. It will be the same one he has received every season for the last nine years. I honestly cannot remember if I normally boo him. I suspect that I do but without too much vigour. He left us to play for one of our biggest rivals so the least I can do is show my disapproval. That’s as far as it goes. I have never especially liked Frank because, let’s face it, he’s not an especially likeable person but, equally, he does not stir any great emotion in me.

My attitude may take a slightly different slant this Saturday, having spent the last week forcing myself to read his self-serving autobiography Totally Frank. Why would I put myself through the arduous task of reading a book so dull it makes a Carlo Ancelotti interview sound enthralling? In short, a friend recently read it, told me of Frank’s incredible tirade against West Ham fans, and curiosity got the better of me.

Joey Barton famously commented on the plethora of post-2006 World Cup autobiographies: “England did nothing in that World Cup, so why were they bringing books out? ‘We got beaten in the quarter-finals. I played like s***. Here’s my book.’ Who wants to read that?” Steven Gerrard conceded that Barton had a point. Frank couldn’t help but take the bait and made public his grievance. As his book makes evident, he has the least thick skin in the world.

I half suspected that my friend was winding me up and that on reading the book I would discover that it merely contained a few anecdotes of isolated incidents of over-the-top abuse directed at him by West Ham fans. How wrong I was. Frank hates West Ham with a passion that I could not reciprocate if I tried. His grievances are in equal measure spurious and bizarre.

The target for one of his first criticisms is also one of the most odd – West Ham’s youth development. It’s about as coherent an argument as praising the club for its ability to hold on to its best players. He talks of being tempted away from West Ham before he had even signed, in particular by a guy at Arsenal who used to take him out for sausage and chips (which explains a few things).

For someone who isn’t motivated by money, as he claims he is not, he does rather like to talk about it. At one point he remarks on Lee Chapman, whose boots he used to clean, only tipping him £20 at Christmas compared to Julian Dicks’s £100. He does not exactly ridicule Chapman, but why even mention it?

I would like to think that the pages dedicated to his loathing of West Ham - all 130 of them - are there merely to liven up an otherwise dull book (and it really is dull. He even makes the story of a threesome in Ayia Napa sound like an episode of Little House on the Prairie). This was the mistake Wayne Rooney made. Making up stuff in his book about David Moyes, that is, not having a threesome. I have no reason to believe that Rooney has ever done the latter. It seems safe to assume though that Frank’s hatred of all things claret and blue is genuine.

His egotism knows no bounds. At one stage (and at this point I almost have to go back to the book to check I have not invented this) he actually criticises those West Ham fans who have taken the time to write him a letter condemning the abuse dished out to him by other fans. His reason? A letter is meaningless. They should stand up during the game and implore their fellow fans to keep quiet. Yes Frank, and maybe they should also walk out of the stadium, burn their shirt, go 23 stops west on the district line and start supporting the plastics. Now that really is a place where the fans keep quiet.

In his defence (well sort of) he is the first to admit that he lacks a thick skin, but even this is the understatement of the century. He retells the story of being at a West Ham fans forum when one supporter said that he wasn’t good enough to be in the first team. “That was the moment I knew I had to get out”. No Frank, that was the moment you had to man up and get on with it.

Perhaps most mystifying of all though, is his insistence that he would have stayed at West Ham were it not for all the abuse he received as a West Ham player. I saw him play in a West Ham shirt dozens of times and this supposed vendetta must have been erased from my mind, because I don’t remember any of it.

The book does have its more light-hearted moments. My personal favourite is Frank’s justification for going on an all-dayer just after 9/11 in which he and his teammates proceeded to make fun of the tragic events for the benefit of everyone around them. “I can honestly say that we did not at any point abuse any Americans who were in that bar. We didn’t shout at them or moon at them.” No mooning? Fair enough.

I can only guess that the ghostwriter let this comment slip through the net as payback for having had to spend so much time in Frank’s company. Only this week he was talking on Five Live of the “demanding” experience of working with him.

The book left me feeling not so much an anger at Frank, more a sense of pity that someone in such a privileged position should be so fixated on the negatives in life. He admits to having an intimate knowledge of West Ham fans’ views by reading fans’ websites. He comes across like a Daily Mail reader who tunes into a Russell Brand radio show, just waiting to be offended.

His conclusion then is that West Ham fans are the root of all evil and have made his life hell with their criticism. Well Frank, I really hope you have kept away from the media this week. There have been plenty of people calling time on your England career and, get this – they’re not all West Ham fans.

Friday 3 September 2010

10 Things I have learned from West Ham Messageboards

With no game this weekend and nothing out of the ordinary having happened last weekend this week’s blog is a little less topical than normal. I could speculate on the wisdom of signing six new players and not selecting one of them in the starting eleven (in favour of Kovac and Boa Morte), but there’s plenty of the season left yet to try to understand how Avram’s mind works.

For now I am pondering the strange phenomenon that is fan websites and, in particular, messageboards. This is the setting for endless unresolved debates carried out by a variety of characters: the rumour monger who bemoans tabloid tittle tattle but still finds time to recount every last story; the depressive who details why we are ultimately doomed; the sentimentalist who wants to know your all time best XI, your first ever game, favourite dog that ran on the pitch; the shameless liar who claims to have inside info on who we are about to sell before going strangely quiet when said info doesn’t materialise; the bitter Sheffield United fan (please excuse the tautology).

I have a love-hate relationship with these sites, choosing mainly to read rather than participate. But as much as they infuriate me they are strangely compelling. Here’s what they have taught me.

1.The only solution to our current problems is to change the starting eleven
Anything remotely analytical, such as “we’re defending too deep”, “we’re not winning the second balls“, “our distribution from the back is poor“, is pretty much forbidden. Any debate focuses solely on personnel. Following the not particularly surprising defeat to Manchester United it was suggested by one person or another on various sites that had any of the following players started, things might well have been different on Saturday: Pablo Barrera, Frederic Piquionne, Winston Reid, Manuel da Costa, Fabio Daprella, Ryan Babel, Guy Demel , Alan Devonshire and Benni McCarthy. Ok so I made the last one up.

2. Spurs fans still don’t consider themselves a top four team
West Ham sites are often infiltrated by rival fans who do not have enough traffic on their own sites to keep themselves occupied. Despite their every comment being aggressively ridiculed (it is generally assumed that they have 12 fingers, are sleeping with their sister or – worst of all – are still at school) they keep coming back for more. Arsenal and Chelsea fans are notable by their absence. They are in a different league to us. Sad but true. You might have expected that, post Champions League qualification, Spurs fans would go away and immerse themselves in their new found status. Alas, no. Methinks they expect their “success” to be fleeting.

3. There is only one thing all West Ham fans agree on – Glenn Roeder
On every issue – be it tactics, Gold and Sullivan, Harry, the Olympic Stadium – opinion is to one degree or another divided, which is of course what makes football football. But on Roeder? No. He is rarely spoken about now; just occasionally used as a benchmark for bad times, eg “Obviously it’s not as bad as under Roeder”, “Obviously I don’t hate him as much as Roeder”, etc. Despite having overseen one of the worst campaigns in our recent history, Zola never really came in for much abuse. I suspect he owes a debt of gratitude to Glenn “Roeder” Rodent.

4. You don’t say a bad word about Sir Trevor Brooking
West Ham fans like banter as much as the next set of fans, but the line is drawn at besmirching Sir Trev.

5. West Ham fans prefer foreign players to English players
Few tears were shed when players who had played an integral part in our success in 2005 and 2006 – Zamora, Harewood, Konchesky, Etherington, Reo Coker – left the club. I suspect the same would be true if Noble were to leave. Yet there were plenty of angry posts this year from fans disgruntled by the departures of Franco and Diamanti. I’m baffled.

6. Sheffield United really hate us
Still. Being hated doesn’t sit that naturally with West Ham fans who are more accustomed to being patronised as a team that “plays nice football”. Personally, I don’t mind a bit of hatred. The fact that it so riles the Blades that since the end of the 2006/07 season we have stayed in the Premier League and they in the Championship is a source of amusement to me. I just wish they would vary their abuse a bit. Remember though, this is one half of the Steel City rivalry in which both sets of fans humorously refer to each other as pigs. “You’re a pig.” “No, you’re a pig”. “No, you’re a pig”. “No ... "

7. Messageboards appeal more to those fans who don’t go to the games
The kind of messages that are posted are not necessarily indicative of the most committed West Ham fans, and by that I mean the type who pay to go to games, not just for their sky sports subscription. One of the obvious tell-tale signs is the number of people who post immediately before, after and even during the game. There is a notable silence when someone posts something specific about a fan’s experience of the game, eg Is the Jubilee line suspended this weekend?, Anyone know any good away pubs near Ewood Park? Shame really, as this kind of information would seem to me to be one of the best uses for a fans’ messageboard.

8. Football fans are incredibly quick to take the bait
Do not argue with an idiot. He will drag you down to his level and beat you with experience. Cyberspace is the perfect place to just ignore idiots without even having to respond to their baiting. Surely the best revenge is to leave the baiter (invariably a bored Millwall fan) dangling, repeatedly pressing the refresh button before giving up to do something more useful like playing with the traffic. In reality most fans choose to rise to the bait, turning the messageboard into nothing more than a playground.

9. West Ham fans don’t particularly like each other
Almost every thread involves some kind of cowardly abuse. Apparently it is acceptable to call someone a tosspiece for either not using punctuation or for criticising someone else who criticised someone else’s punctuation.

10. Jonathan Spector’s mum should be kept away from all West Ham messageboards