The Diary

31 December 2003: A Happy New Year?

Were my mood sufficiently elevated enough to do so, I?d be issuing forth with all the usual trite platitudes, like: ?I pray that peace will come to reign over all the earth in 2004? or, bringing it much closer to home, ?Let?s hope 2004 brings us a return to the Premiership for West Bromwich Albion?, but I can?t, and those who read and digested my offering of yesterday will know precisely why I won?t. To be honest, as I was trudging dejectedly out of the National Hockey Stadium last night, my brain was assuming shapes very similar to that of a pretzel trying to work out precisely how I could adequately describe to someone living far away, or on the other side of the planet, even, the true magnitude of the absolute shambles I?d just witnessed versus The Dons. And, when I finally arrived home, sheer blind fury drove me into penning something which, in retrospect, was driven purely by emotion, and now seems indistinguishable from a rant.

And yet, what you saw last night was in many ways a fair summation of my own gut feelings about the whole affair. I was bloody angry, and still am, to a large extent. I thought every Albion supporter who attended last night was short-changed, in more ways than the obvious, and looking at some of those press comments and match reports today, I wasn?t the only one. Most of my time today, though, has been spent replying to people who took the trouble to mail me personally. Because not all the questions raised were of the same nature, each one got an individual reply, which took quite some time to do. It?s interesting to note that there is now a groundswell of supporter opinion beginning to make its face known, and for what has to be the first time for ages, people are now beginning to raise serious questions about fundamental but worrying topics that would have got us shouted down, or worse, not so long ago.

I?m not going to waste electricity banging on about this, but the problem is a stark one, and it?s this: the way I see it, unless something changes, and quickly, then the question of whether we achieve Premiership status is going to be of purely academic value only. We?ve now gone four without a win, and have been really lucky, in a couple of games, last night?s included, to come away from the encounter clutching a point. Our home form bears more resemblance to a side flirting with relegation, not one hell-bent on achieving escape velocity. Had our away form been equally miserable, we could well have been looking at the wrong end of the table right now, never mind the top. At least the Cup game this Saturday will provide some respite, but even though it?s a game easily accessible for supporters, loads of tickets up for grabs, a venue but an hour?s easy motoring away, I now learn that Albion have had to send half the tickets back. I?d like to think this is but a temporary blip caused by post-festive strains on domestic finances, but I still get the nagging feeling that supporters are finally voting with their feet in protest at the mind-numbingly boring fare habitually put on their plate these days. As this game is a Cup one, and we stand to share a portion of the gate receipts, this is probably the first time what has happened on the field of play has affected what goes into the club?s coffers. Compared with Albion?s already vast yearly turnover, it?s disturbance on a microscopic scale, but it?s still lost revenue, just the same. And, before I finish this discussion, another pertinent thought. In my last sentence I referred to loss of revenue. Now I?m no financial genius; in fact, show me anything resembling double-entry book-keeping, and my insomnia is instantly cured, but even a monetary illiterate like myself knows that should we fail to make the grade this time round, the club is going to dip out big-time. Automatic Promotion? The way we?re carrying on, forget it. The play-offs? Success at that sort of thing is predicated upon a winning streak, and the confidence and teamwork that enables you to battle through as a unit no matter what. Remember 1993? What I?m seeing from our lot at the moment is about as far removed from the team spirit and sheer love for the game that prevailed then as the asteroid belt is from our small planet. Oh ? one other thought. Lose the revenue stream (our parachute money only continues for another season after this one) and you lose any realistic prospect of retaining quality players. Like Koumas, or the forcibly-inactive Sakiri. And with no effective youth policy to speak of, what then?

It?s not all bad, though. We are still at the stage where we can rectify the situation, but decisions, not all of them popular, might now have to be made, and quickly. A drastic change in style, in formation, in personnel, even - whatever. I?m not the best person qualified to say what should, or shouldn?t happen; I?ll leave that for others to decide, but, as the saying goes, you don?t need to be a brain surgeon to know when someone is suffering from a serious illness, and lack of medical qualifications doesn?t necessarily disbar you from suggesting a cure. The next few games should prove both interesting and enlightening.

And finally?? I?d like to wish everyone who has taken the trouble to put up with the great gouts of electronic steam coming out of my PC over the last 12 months a very happy New Year indeed. Whatever happens over the next few months, here?s a parting thought for you all. Players, managers, chairmen, even, they come and go, but whatever the changes in personnel, one thing remains constant. The basic loyalty, intelligence and sheer love for the club of our supporters, whoever or wherever they may be. That chant of ?WE ARE ALBION!? during games, it?s spot on, purely and simply because we supporters are the club, greater, even, than the sum of all its parts, and we?ll still be here long after most of the current staff have gone. Whenever things go badly, just take time out to remember that, because I feel its only right and proper we should give ourselves a little pat on the back occasionally. So, come midnight, charge your glasses with an unusually stiff one, and make a toast to our favourite football club, and all who sail in it. We?re Albion, and there?s none like us. You know it makes sense.

 - Glynis Wright

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