My irritation at fans’ “stay safe” tweets last Saturday reminded me of how often I find myself at odds with my fellow fans. It is a strange truth that a love for a particular football club means that your moods and reference points should be so in sync with tens of thousands of others. But it does not necessarily follow that everyone is singing from the same hymn sheet.
Last weekend’s annoyance stemmed from the infinite well wishing for those martyrs who made the trip to Bermondsey. I found it hard to empathise with this outpouring of support for fans taking on a self-imposed task. When one fan replied to my tweet to question what I had against his simple reminder to a mate to avoid trouble, I realised I had slipped into sanctimony. At times like these I must remind myself of the Radiohead song ‘I Might Be Wrong’.
On the big things, I think I am pretty well aligned with my co-conspirators. Love: Paolo Di Canio, Billy Bonds, Julian Dicks. Hate: Millwall, Spurs, Glen Roeder. There are a few things, however, that seem to set me apart from the mainstream.
The new Kevin Nolan song is atrocious
“When I see you Nolan I go off my fucking head”. So begins the homage to our new captain. As fans we are slow to pen songs in tribute to individual players, so it is odd that after a relatively underwhelming start to his career at West Ham, Nolan should be so quickly honoured with his own ditty.
Aside from the lack of originality (Newcastle had their own Nolan song that was sung to the tune of the same Depeche Mode song) it strikes me as a paean more appropriate for the object of one’s affection, than for a 29-year-old scouser. The young lad a few rows in front of me at the City Ground last month was getting particularly excited, so perhaps to some fans the two things are not mutually exclusive.
Carlos Tevez is a git
There are few players whom I have enjoyed watching in claret and blue more than Tevez. I will never forget that free kick against Spurs - mainly because I had just nipped out for a jimmy riddle and completely missed him jumping into the section of the West Stand Lower where I had been sat just moments earlier. Even from the gents, the roar of the crowd was deafening. We went on to lose that game, but it was undoubtedly a turning point, as Tevez grabbed our season by the scruff of the neck and helped keep us up.
That does not change the fact that Tevez is as big a mercenary as you are likely to find in the modern game. His mate Kia Joorabchian embodies everything that is wrong with football. After a year at Manchester United, Tevez spurned United for their bitter rivals. Two years after signing for City, his predictably poor attitude has resulted in him being stripped of the captaincy as he sulks on the substitute bench. Claims of homesickness appear to be contradicted by a willingness to listen to offers from Spain and Italy. Thanks for the memories Carlos, but I shan’t be following the rest of your career with any interest.
Terry Brown was not half as bad as was portrayed
Brown appointed Glen Roeder as our manager. For that reason alone, he is a complete bastard. But like most chairmen, Brown was always disproportionately villainised. Saying that you dislike your club’s chairman is a bit like saying you’re not too keen on parking attendants. He can be questioned for selling the club to a bunch of clueless bankers, but the money he made on selling his shares was his right. Would Gold and Sullivan swerve the opportunity to make a profit on selling the club? Of course not. No-one would.
Gold and Sullivan love to cite their record of always bouncing back from relegation. If this is a worthy yardstick, it should be noted that under Brown West Ham were rarely outside the top flight. Over the last decade the appalling financial mismanagement of many english football clubs has emerged. Just ask Plymouth Argyle fans. Or Leeds fans. Or even Everton fans. Relatively speaking, I am not sure as West Ham fans we can feel too hard done-by.
The Academy has not been productive since the nineties
Rio Ferdinand, Frank Lampard, Joe Cole, Jermain Defoe, Glen Johnson, Michael Carrick. Tony Carr is quite rightly regarded as a hero. The success of the Academy in the late nineties, however, has encouraged many to overlook the dearth of talent produced over the last decade.
With the exception of Mark Noble, James Tomkins and Jack Collison, I can think only of players on whom we wasted our time: Zavon Hines, Junior Stanislas, Frank Nouble, Freddie Sears, Kyel Reid, Richard Garcia. And they are just the ones considered good enough to be given a chance in the first team. The end point of our production line used to be the Premier League. Nowadays, it’s League One.
The best reason for moving to the Olympic Stadium is to leave Upton Park
Anyone who read my blog on this subject last December will be in little doubt as to my views, so I won’t bore you all over again. I may not be alone in my pro-Stratford view, but where I do differ from other fans is that my main motivation is to never have to visit Upton Park again.
Whereas exiting most football grounds is a quick and painless process, the narrow, old-fashioned nature of the Boelyn stands means that a five-minute crush has to be endured before reaching the freedom of, er, Green Street. Queuing outside the tube station for 20 minutes as the police stand idle while people jump the queue is accepted as part of the process.
The only argument for staying at Upton Park seems to be one of nostalgia. As Thom Yorke once said: “Don’t get sentimental, it always ends up drivel”.
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