The Diary

18 September 2006: It's That Post-Southend Feeling, Folks!

Greetings, once more. I can?t really say that this weekend?s been a positive pleasure, what with Saturday?s result, and everything, without my nose starting to grow very long very rapidly ? as if yesterday?s result wasn?t enough, yet more PC trouble last night meant a posting delayed until today: if I didn?t know any better, I?d swear blind someone Up There had it in for me ? but at least yesterday?s game and its choleric aftermath has left me with loads of topics to cover tonight. What?s it all about? Life, The Albion Universe, and Everything, dear reader ? so here goes.

First things first, then ? The Fart, the furious tea-time rant I outlined in yesterday?s piece, and his threat to give some poor local radio sports jock some heavy-duty grief via one or other of the phone-ins they host on Saturday nights. As I discovered when I phoned him prior to starting tonight?s effort, poor Franksy on Radio WM was the chap chosen to receive this dubious honour. Being busy doing other things at that time, I didn?t listen, but apparently, when our wrinkly Baggie finally got on, he let the airwaves have the verbal equivalent of a blast from a sawn-off shotgun when fired at very close range indeed.

The Fart told Franksy, in his own inimitable style, that the afternoon ?started off like Saturday Night Fever, but finished up looking more like Saturday Night Trauma?. With Robbo playing the John Travolta role, Tel? Do have a care! Then, our man took time out to visit the vexing story of our defence, midfield and attack, describing each in turn: ?no defence?, ?midfield hopeless?, and last, but not least, panned our errant forwards in vituperative terms indeed. His post-match verdict, once he?d managed to get that little lot right off his venerable chest? ?Absolute garbage!?

All this, remember, from a chap not usually known for the use of emotive language on the radio. It?s got to him so badly, it?s even overridden social conditioning very much born of a time when total deference to authority was the rule, and dissent aired via reasoned and informed discussion a dangerous thing, to be suppressed ruthlessly by one?s parents, teachers, GP, hospital doctors, police, councillors, employers, even, at all times, lest others be infected. Believe you me, if you?ve grown up in such a climate, as both of us have, it?s a horribly-difficult mindset to discard in the mere twinkling of an angry eye.

There was more, much more, but it would seem a goodly number of supporters out there agreed unconditionally with Tel?s views apropos of yesterday. Lots of calls to Franksy afterwards endorsing what El Tel had to say, and one dissenting customer only, according to ?yer man?. As we live (allegedly, although I do harbour grave doubts, sometimes) in a democracy, I reckon that?s the popular vote carried pretty much unanimously. Oh ? and here?s one other snippet from The Fart, which quite frankly startled me.

Apparently, our leader was at Old Trafford earlier today to take in their Premiership clash with Arsenal: of that the Fart knew primarily because Sky zoomed in close on him while he was engaging in an animated pre-match touchline conversation with The Pole In Goal, who turned out for their first team today (and saved a penalty, although The Arse came out on top thanks to a sneaky Gunners goal five minutes from time. Not that I saw it, mind ? I?d fallen deep into the land of Nod by then!). Having a good old laugh together, they were, so Mister Fart informs me.

Probably nothing at all sinister about that per se, but being seen to do that is not at all big or clever when it comes to matters concerning tact and/or diplomacy. Especially given Robson?s Man United roots, long association/chumminess with Sir Alex Ferguson, and their need for an additional keeper. Not to mention just after your club has woefully under-performed, and supporters are not happy bunnies because of it. On seeing that sort of image on their TV screens, I wonder just how many other Baggies ended up like The Fart? Wanting to chuck something really heavy at their TV screens, I mean?

But is Robson?s judgement and overall leadership style ? or a perceived lack of it - really the sole cause of what?s going on? Is he just a convenient lightning-rod for current grassroots fury and unrest, constantly deflecting verbal flak away from all those who are the real makers of big decisions affecting the place? Could this be the true reason why Robson seems to be on the receiving end of so much grief and prevarication whenever it comes to getting in fresh blood, or trying to, even?

It?s a fair question, but one to which I have few ready answers. Without any sort of in-depth knowledge of what was agreed, either verbally or otherwise, when he first came to the club, I?m in no position to say, really. Neither am I in a position to properly discern who is truly pulling all the strings, be they for good or ill. For all I know, Robson could be operating under a series of constraints imparted on the ?nod-nod, wink-wink, say no more!? basis so beloved of both Eric Idle and the entire Monty Python team. With little or nothing of any agenda publicly available, either verbally or otherwise, the less possibility of subsequent embarrassing leaks. You know it makes sense.

Could it be that because Jeremy Peace represented a literally fortuitous desert oasis to an unemployed manager dying of footballing thirst, metaphorically speaking, all those months ago, Robson now feels, unlike his brutally-frank predecessor, that he?s got to go with the flow, and not make major waves? Morally obliged to do so now because in his eyes, the Albion appointment was about the only one of a very few realistic job offers in prospect at that time? If Robson suddenly decided tomorrow to strike his tent and head off into the Tipton sunset ? or ended up getting his P45, as some quite clearly want - would we be any better off as a result? Is there a realistic alternative lurking out there, carefully biding his time, even now quietly awaiting the word to pack his bags and move in? Curbishley, for example?

One point on which myself and ?Im Indoors diverge radically, that one. With his roots seemingly firmly established within the metropolis, I reckon he wouldn?t really want to go to a club that?s not within clear sight and sound of the M25 orbital road, and ?Im Indoors thinks otherwise. Apart from him, though, just who else is there out there that?s currently jobless, not past it, or proven hopelessly inept when at a previous club, or tied to a current club by a generous contract of employment/ perceived to cost the Earth in terms of compensation payments should Albion ask permission to talk to their man then successfully lure him away, yet is still considered seriously capable of doing us a job, if you get my drift?

And another thought. Bearing all the above in mind, is our current blanket condemnation of Robson and all who sail in him hitting the right target? Those supporters of long standing will recall one of our former chairmen achieving complete notoriety about 15 years ago by publicly stating, famously, after relegation to the Third Division for the first time in our entire history, ?It wasn?t me that missed those (versus Port Vale) penalties??? Bearing that merry thought in mind, you might also want to ask precisely who it was missed all those nailed-on, copper-bottomed, Triple-A, dead-certain goalscoring chances this Saturday just gone. It sure as hell wasn?t Robson. Not for the first time in all this, it might well be an opportune moment for our current first-teamers to sit down and examine at some length their own involvement in what?s currently infecting the club. It could well be that, as with all infections, the only cure not involving antibiotics is cauterisation. Get my drift?

Mind you, just to prove we?re both terminally insane, despite recent events, The Fart and I (sounds like a famous West End musical starring Yul Brynner, doesn?t it?) both decided to travel to Ipswich next month, doing all the necessary flashing of cash in the ticket office on the night of the Cheltenham game. Any psychiatrist reading this and desperately wanting to ensure that we?re not a serious danger to the public should get in touch, and we?ll both arrange for a prolonged session on his couch without further delay!

Today, we decided to have our usual Sunday nosh-up at a local chain carvery, so while we munched away to our heart?s content, we also took time to put the spotlight well and truly on our favourite football club. (Roast beef and all the trimmings followed (for me) by oodles of yummy treacle sponge and loads of custard providing a rather valuable adjunct to any subsequent secretion of creative juices, might I say). And below, I present our conclusions. Remember, this is all subjective: what strikes us as immediately obvious need not necessarily be your own personal take on things.

In any sensible discussion, be it about The Baggies or, say, global warming, there are no ?right? and ?wrong? answers, no rigid ?black? or ?white? compartmental divides, just rather a lot of shades of grey. You read at some length, assimilate what info you?re given according to the amount of knowledge and life-experience you already have, you then make up your own mind, either ?for? or ?agin?, and proceed as necessary on that basis. All I ask of you is that you look at what we have to say in a sensible and reasoned light. It?s cool heads, not blood-red anger that we supporters need, right now; deviate from that, and that age-old control-tool, ?divide and rule? is given its full head once more.

Having gone through my little ?pre-flight safety demonstration? with you all to mutual satisfaction ? mind you, I?m no ?trolley dolly?, even at the best of times! ? these are our collective thoughts. First off? A few more basic facts to get you thinking, so let me chuck ?em at you. To start, then, did you know that a Leicester player, ?oggie king? Darren Kenton, currently stands as our third-highest scoring player? And that this unfortunate gentleman has netted as many for The Baggies in 90 minutes as Kevin Phillips has scored in four games with our club? That the club?s highest career goalscorer is a central defender?

That ?on the road?, our single goal scored thus far this term is the joint worst similar record in this division? And the name of the other Championship outfit ?honoured? in yet another backhanded way? Southend, yesterday?s away opponents, who have amassed fewer points than us in that respect. Could be that there?s a link between that, and the depressing fact that in Hartson and Phillips, we have a ?main armament? with a combined age of ? wait for it ? 65. Bus passes, incontinence aids, and SAGA membership all round, chaps?

We now turn to our current record at the other end of the table. To date, we?ve met every club occupying those coveted top three sides this Sunday, yet not beaten any of them, managing only one measly goal in reply. Clubs who are serious about winning promotion have to take points off rivals closest to them in the table if they want to realise their dream come the end of the season; thus far, we?ve faced other serious contenders and ended up looking like clowns, which doesn?t exactly auger well for our credibility at that level, does it? Not only that, but pursuing yet another closely-linked theme, under Robson we?ve still to win a local derby. Still looking forward to facing those lovely Dingles? Yeah, right.

So, where does all this rapidly-blossoming culture of serial underachievement and turmoil at the club actually leave we supporters, the beautiful game?s equivalent of the ?Poor Bloody Infantry? circa 1916? For starters, with just about every unofficial Albion publication now gone, our support is left both badly fractured and very much in the dark about matters affecting them, either directly or otherwise. Our matchday programme is an excellent read of course, thanks to the efforts of editor Dave Bowler among others, but even with the best will in the world, it really can?t be regarded as providing an impartial and independent overview of current events, can it?

So, this is where we are, then. The Baggies newspaper is no more, ditto GD, of course. The Supporters Club, despite a wonderfully-dedicated and hard-working committee?s best efforts in this respect, is undergoing an almost-imperceptible, highly-pernicious drip-drip of members ? a serious problem getting permission for current players to attend meetings is one reason why this has happened, but not the sole one, of course ? and the Shareholders For Albion organisation is also undergoing similar problems. Even the Sports Argus has breathed its last. Where do we, the ordinary supporter with genuine concerns, go from here, I wonder?

What?s needed more than anything during these trying times is some sort of an independent rallying-point, a metaphorical clothes-peg on which to hang opinions, moans, groans, and shared supporting experiences, be they positive or negative. Sure, there?s the internet, as per this column and sundry Baggies discussion groups like ?Boing?, but not everyone has access, and not everyone feels comfortable communing with their fellow Baggie via the arcane mysteries of cyberspace. Among the older generation, Tel and I are exceptions: not so much of late, ?tis true, as more and more of us become ?silver surfers?, but I know for a fact there?s still a vast range of Baggie people out there who would much rather buy a season-ticket for Molineux, than start fiddling with a computer keyboard at their time of life. The vast majority of my immediate family, for example. Not only that, many website editors don?t have a high public profile, and wouldn?t want the hassle of one anyway.

Writing as someone very much caught up in the middle of all the turmoil currently raging among our supporters, I am very much minded to recall the time when we ran Grorty Dick. As we?re now well out of it, not much of what I say can offend, but when we were flogging the thing out there on the pavement, pre-match, it was absolutely astonishing the number of times people we?d hitherto regarded as either complete strangers, or club figures supposedly comfy in the fastness of their Olympus approached us with various little snippets (usually deemed ?off the record?, either by the informant, or by ourselves, in order to protect the innocent, concerning what was going on in Planet Albion) to impart in clandestine manner.

Because of this country?s Draconian libel laws (because of them, the likely prospect of losing not only a goodly proportion of our savings, but our home through an adverse court judgement was never a realistic option, thank you very much!), the only British court proceedings where the burden of proof (of innocence) is firmly placed upon the person or organisation alleged to have perpetrated any libel/slander, much of what we?d been told on the QT couldn?t see the light of day. Despite that handicap, just the mere fact of being told what was truly going on beneath all those corporate rictus smiles and cheesy prawn-sandwiched grins helped us enormously when trying to fully-assess the impact level some major event or other could have upon the subsequent fortunes of our football club. Also, armed with what we knew to be the true facts, we were in a good position to unofficially explain and, frequently, pacify, in private, those with valid issues to ventilate.

My overall concern, as always, being with what ultimately happens to our club and its credibility, I?m not trying to blow any particular trumpets for the fanzine, here. Nor am I seeking to over-egg the role we played when a going concern. We do feel, though, that there were genuinely times we were so far ahead of what the club were choosing to make public, we were actually losing some of our grassroots audience i.e. those who couldn?t, or wouldn?t believe there were (mostly unspecified, although we did try to drop veiled hints wherever legally possible) serious concerns that needed to be addressed, and soon.

I?m not claiming to be an expert on the subject, not by any means, but right now, it seems to me that the one thing supporters desperately need right now is something we simply don?t have any more. A reasonably-credible voice, moreover one that can, albeit in a highly-limited way, investigate gripes, get answers ? then go back to the complainant, and start by saying: ?Well ? between you, me and the gate-post, it?s like this, see??..? Although we received very little genuine response when inviting others to take up the torch prior to calling it a day on GD, I?m now left wondering as to whether or not others might now find it timely to explore such a possibility. Right now, the club stands at the crossroads, and supporters genuinely need a legitimate outlet for their valid concerns. Is there anyone out there willing to take on the load? If so, your time has most certainly come.

And Finally?.. Yet another little slice of life with the Lewis family. Now both Carly and Bethany go to the same secondary school, their day-to-day life there is very much a shared experience, be it good or bad. And, should things get too much, occasionally, there?s always a shoulder to cry on. Take the other week, for example.

The Noise?s Number Two Daughter, being only eleven, and in Year Seven at that school, just happened to let slip that there were three other kids in her class giving her a great deal of grief. Bullying, in other words. The solution? Simple. Carly, bless her, went straight to the perpetrators and told them their collective fortunes, and in minute detail, too, so I?m told. Not at all difficult when you?re a senior prefect at that school, tall, and seriously capable of giving all three a generous (very unofficial!) sample of what they?ve been dishing out by way of return! As Carly herself commented: ?No-one upsets my little sister and gets away with it!? Ooer.

 - Glynis Wright

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