The Diary

06 August 2004: The Baggies, Through A Glass Darkly

Rumours of my close-season demise have been greatly exaggerated, so I?m back again. That?s the good news; the bad (for some) is I?ll be tapping away diligently for the whole of the coming season, bar a manufactured pause or three courtesy of the various international commitments that punctuate the Prem fixture list from time to time, and suchlike. Plus some natural breaks, of course. Many apologies, also, to those who wondered what became of me immediately after the cessation of 03-04 Nationwide hostilities: the blunt truth is that the day after the Forest fixture, my back ?went? once more ? most painful, very strong painkillers, the works, making creative ventures on the PC a complete impossibility for a considerable time. Incidentally, I?m currently undergoing a course of physio, quite intensive it is, as well, so not only have our players had a ?pre-season? I have, as well. The good news was at one point, I was threatened with an epidural, just like Houlty, but the quack decided quite late-doors not to embark on that course of treatment, thankfully ? I didn?t fancy the idea of bloody great needles in my spinal column, thank you very much. Knackered? I will be. No, belay my last, make that ?am?.

Raring to go for our second shot at the big-time? I sincerely wish I could say I was ? but sadly, I?m not. Maybe I?m still on something of a downer after all the close-season problems I experienced, or something, but the truth of the matter is, I feel distinctly less enthused about this season than I did two campaigns ago: in short, for the first time since the Saunders era, my Albion ?get-up-and-go? has quite simply ?got-up-and-gone?. Why? Several things, I suppose. First off, it?s the increasing feeling it?s just not the same football club there any more. See below. Secondly, for me, the sheer fun of that first time will be noticeably absent. We weren?t expected to survive, we were the division?s fall guys, consequently, the entire season was spent by our faithful cocking a snook at our financially more well-endowed brethren. This term? Maybe a couple of Prem games under my belt will serve to kick the old enthusiasm glands back into some sort of action, but at the moment, I severely doubt it.

Tomorrow?s game against Boavista will be our inaugural first team friendly this term. Sure, we did indulge in a smidgen of Baggie-watching ten days ago. But that was what was laughingly described as a ?reserve? side, versus poor cash-strapped Gloucester City. Wonder how the likes of the Chambos, Joe Murphy, Ronnie Wallwork and Sekou Berthe felt about that one, then? I felt quite insulted on their behalf just seeing them there, so goodness knows what they had to say about the matter in private. No, more and more I feel like a passenger on a much-loved but ancient steamer watching helplessly as its newly-launched gas-turbine-driven successor draws abreast, then rapidly overtakes, leaving me staring wistfully but impotently at the foam-ridden wake of the propellers as the Bright New Thing glides rapidly and smoothly towards the distant horizon, while my out-of-date vessel chugs faithfully on. It?s Albion, Jim, but not as we know it.

It?s little things that bug me right now. Examples? I suppose the pre-season Denmark tour will do for starters. Normally, merely asking us if we were going would be a question too daft for words, but this year, we gave it a miss. Why? Not because we couldn?t spare the time, or lacked the necessary ackers, it?s just that this time round, our favourite football club seemed to make a point of making it as difficult as possible for genuine and bloody loyal Albion supporters to do what Nature intended, i.e. support. Venues of games not announced until the very last minute (in stark contrast to days of yore when we usually knew well before the end of the season just completed), making it difficult or just frankly impossible to get time off from work at such short notice, opponents changed literally days before departure (I?m given to understand at least one set of travellers had to completely change their flights late doors because of this: not very helpful if you?re travelling courtesy of a budget airline, is it?), that sort of thing. Other clubs still seem to warmly embrace followers who have invested in the considerable time, trouble and hard-earned money it takes to get to these games ? but not ours, now, it seems. Normally, numbers for these foreign pre-season jaunts are around the three quarters of a century mark ? this time, I am reliably informed, only 25 good Baggies and true took the trouble to cross the North Sea. Oh, what a short memory you have, Albion.

And then there?s the frankly astonishing hike in season-ticket prices. An increase that amounts to some 40% on the face of it, you might think, but when you come to factor in the loss of home games through being in the Prem, the true figure pans out to some 70%. Yes, I do realise the Prem?s an expensive playground, and only the rich kids have any chance of survival (and, to give the devil his due, we do seem to be making a far more credible attempt to play their games for more than just one season this time round), but an increase of that magnitude immediately rules out some bloody loyal, but financially-strapped Baggies. Know something? The other day, I journeyed to The Hawthorns to purchase our Blackburn tickets ? and I didn?t know one single sodding person in that queue. Not one. Just a snapshot of things, sure, but it does suggest to me that the demographics are subtly shifting, and will continue to shift; assuming we last the course this time round. Another couple of seasons, and we?ll very likely end up with what amounts to a ?theatre audience? at the Shrine. Brummie Road Enders, Smethwick-lovers ? enjoy the noise, the ?boinging? while you can, this season could well be your swan-song. The stewards last season were certainly more proactive than ever before in snuffing out any displays perceived to be ?overenthusiastic?, and by that I include such harmless activities as merely standing up and singing. Think I?m joking? Just remember what happened to Middlesbrough?s grass-roots support as soon as they permanently carved their niche in the top flight - and weep.

The new regime has also seen a complete turnover in admin staff; once-familiar faces have quietly ?disappeared?, to be replaced by much younger (and, dare I say it, attractive?) personnel. Don?t get me wrong, a slight mix-up with The Noise?s away season ticket apart, I have no complaints whatsoever about the current TO staff, and I?m sure the dolly bird I now see on the front desk and switchboard performs her duties efficiently and admirably, but I?m willing to bet anything you like she?s not the sort of person with whom you can establish a bit of rapport, or just pass the time of day; to my admittedly ancient mind, it?s not a skill young people particularly excel in these days. As far as sponsors go, sure, it?s great they?re now chucking money into the pot in heaps, but money through the turnstiles, especially from those who supported when we really were ?crap? ? not to mention blind loyalty - still counts for something, chaps, surely? Remember Grimsby, midwinter, midweek, some four or five seasons ago, the Little era, and our best player flogged to Sunderland to prevent the club?s bank calling in their loan? A nadir if there ever was one ? but as I said earlier, some people have bloody short memories.

Players? The gulf between ?us? and ?them? is now an unbridgeable chasm, a state of affairs that can only worsen given our new-found status, sadly. To be fair, it?s not totally the fault of our club, or our manager, for that matter; a shocking disparity in earning-power has done much to bring about this state of affairs, but certainly, the likely non-availability of players and officials for future Supporters? Club functions isn?t going to help, is it? And remember, any of our finest reading this, it?s awfully difficult booing/shouting obscenities at the bloke you nattered to about this and that over a pint a couple of days previously! Which brings me to another gripe; the aforementioned likely veto could well mean the demise of some extremely long-standing and very loyal supporters? club branches. Some, possessive of the acumen of Sutton Branch secretary Amanda Miles, will survive by inviting ex-players and such to thrashes, but the rest? I really do fear the worst. Sad, really, as Albion were formerly known as one of football?s more supporter-friendly outfits.

Earlier, I mentioned my distinct lack of desire for all things Prem this campaign. Maybe part of the problem I?m having with getting sufficiently enthused about our newly-won status right now is the fact that last time round, the whole thing was something of an adventure. Sure, I?ve been to Liverpool, Man U, Highbury, and all stations west many, many times in the past, but most Prem grounds these days are light years distant (and very, very different) from the state of affairs that prevailed back in the days when Astle was King and away-match costs amounted to but a few quid, therefore in 2002-03, the whole thing represented (an almost) totally new ball game to me. Now, of course, I know better, and, a season back in the Nationwide later, am much wiser. Shocking admission prices, awful views at some grounds (assuming one can remain seated, of course), stewards ? yes, YOU, Charlton, Chelsea! - seemingly on loan from the Gestapo, exorbitantly-high refreshment prices. Plus, of course, the insufferable arrogance of some home followers, not to mention that of media people who should really know better. Our away support last time round was universally regarded as a breath of fresh air to a Premiership that seemingly consisted of nothing but crowds massed for a very sad family burial. Honourable exception being Everton, of course, and thank whatever god you worship for that, I say.

And, talking of support, what about the small matter of the loss of the Throstle Club, now well and truly boarded up and looking distinctly forlorn? Awaiting demolition, now, of course, the ?cunning plan? awaiting implementation being New Labour?s Big Idea of opening lots of specialist schools. In this case, one majoring in Sports will emerge phoenix-like from the former TC site, a project in which our football club have had some considerable input for quite some time. The object of the whole exercise is to send our apprentices (or trainees, or whatever they?re called right now) there, once open, and the gym facilities will give us Academy status.

As far as the poor TC?s concerned, we have been promised a new HQ eventually, but that?s predicated on the rebuilding of the Halfords, which is further dependent upon us staying with the big boys for at least three seasons, of course. Or the Second Coming, which, from my humble viewpoint, seems about as likely. Unless our current board know something I don?t about the imminence of The Rapture, of course, which, given the eagerness of the current US administration to keep poking its oil-grabbing stick into the ants? nest that calls itself the Middle East, that could be somewhat closer than even I dare conjecture. The sight of George Bush and Tony Blair soaring skywards together, rollock naked? Ugh. Just don?t go accepting cheap flights to Meggido (the modern name for Armageddon) in the near future, that?s what I say. Unfortunately, until either scenario comes to pass, one way or another, I guess we?ll just have to make do with the Supporters? Club?s temporary matchday haunt, the Hawthorns Hotel (not available tomorrow, sadly) but no matter what the SC do to make the place more hospitable, to old-timers like Terry and myself, it can never be the same.

Perhaps, at the end of my last paragraph, I unconsciously put my finger slap-bang on the entire problem ? ?old-timers like Terry and myself? ? as all the above could quite easily be perceived as ?age-related?. ?It was never like this in my day?, that sort of thing. Certainly, it now seems to me that crowds, like policemen, at top-flight games, seem to be getting younger and younger. Conversely, at lower League and non-league level, there seems to be a far greater preponderance of what might be unkindly termed ?old gits?. Perhaps I should simply get the hell out while I still have what remains of my marbles?

The Hughsie trial? I?ll reserve judgment until the jury reaches its verdict early next week.

And finally?.. But, just to show I still retain some semblance of a sense of humour?.. One. Rumour has it that the British National Party will, in future, bar any supporters of Wolverhampton Wanderers from their membership lists. The BNP will not be linked to any organisation with a reputation for institutional violence!

Two. Talking of our dysfunctional neighbours, the other day, I was reading an E and S account of the 90th anniversary of the outbreak of World War One, when I came across the following gem: ??..The Recruiting Office in the centre of Wolverhampton was besieged by hordes of rough-looking youths in working-class clothes??? Some things don?t change, then!

 - Glynis Wright

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