The Diary

13 September 2004: Post-Anfield Thoughts, And All That Jazz

Lots of other names bandied about on the list also, some horribly familiar, like the previously-mentioned former Newcastle gaffer, Mark Hughes (who will probably end up at Ewood Park anyway), and Gordon Strachan, and some just plain daft. Sturrock? He couldn?t cut the mustard at St. Mary?s, by all accounts, so I severely doubt he?d want to pick up the Hawthorns reins right now and risk further blight on his career. A shame he failed there, really, as had a similar situation arisen a year ago, I would have lapped him up like gravy. Glenn Hoddle? Blimey, haven?t we got enough God Squad members in the team right now without having a gaffer harbouring similar inclinations as well? Mind you, the thought of John Gorman being there in some sort of coaching capacity does have its attractions. Just leave out all the Bible-bashing, though, and let the likes of George Bush handle it ? I?m not into that as a pre-match activity.

Not too long after I?d completed my swift perusal of the Sunday sportspages, we then headed out into the now-autumnal wilds of Worcestershire for a dinky spot of Sunday roast and a quiet drink somewhere. While the Dickmobile was bombing along those country lanes, between the big garden centre and what used to be a huge emergency grain store, something struck me. No, not a stray spud or hay-bale falling off a tractor, or a fresh load of grain, even, just a vagrant thought, which rapidly became something of an interesting exercise, if you like, so please feel free to join in. What I actually did in that short space of time before we finally found the pub was list all the Albion managers I?d seen come and go in the forty years or so I?ve been following this dratted football club; not the longest spell by half, mind, The Fart can do somewhat better, but it?s still an exercise well worth repeating here.

The answer, once I?d marshalled all my fingers to operate in correct counting-fashion, was actually quite startling, so here it is. Covering the period from 1963 (Vic Buckingham) to the present incumbent, and including those merely keeping the hot-seat warm for the next ?victim? e.g. Stuart Pearson, John Trewick et. al., unlike the late Douglas Adams, galactic hitch-hiker extraordinaire, the answer was not forty two but an astonishing twenty four! I won?t bother listing all the names individually, I?ll leave that to you, should you be so inclined, but when converted to plain English, it all boils down to two-score-and-a-bit lots of frazzled nerves, enough antidepressants to allow managers of pharmaceutical companies to take early retirement in droves, and among that little lot (my own personal view) at least one quite definite nervous breakdown. Work the last one out for yourselves; if you?ve been as regular a Hawthorns attender as I in fairly recent times, you won?t have any difficulty at all.

And there?s more; should you desire further enlightenment, simply run both figures through the guts of any calculator. Having done so as I did, you?ll quickly find the numbers in the little window give you an average length of time (over my supporting life) in the post of less than two years per manager! In my reckoning, Meggo must now be one of the longest-serving of the lot, and before entertaining serious thoughts of ditching him, it might well behove the board to embark on a similar exercise themselves. Sure, Gary has been somewhat incautious in some of his public pronouncements on club matters, and may well have seriously hacked off our chairman by doing so, and arguably breached his contract by way of icing on the cake, but is that sufficient reason to give him the big heave-ho?

The board (or JP, more like) might well say so; having spoken to people who actually work in the real world, the word from them is that anyone getting two written warnings would have been out on their ear straightaway in their line of employment. Trouble is, though, how much of the stuff now being made public is fact, and how much part and parcel of any ?briefing-against? exercise, either on the part of JP, or emanating from Meggo? What you have to remember also is one simple truth; get rid of Gary and you get rid of the whole backroom infrastructure, so patiently built up by our leader over all these long four and a bit years. Frankie, bless his little cloth cap and ?tache, would be away with the fairies the minute our leader went to clear his desk, as would the rest. Not only that, you also chuck out another precious asset, sorely lacking at this club until comparatively recently, and that?s continuity.

The additional problem is, if thought necessary, any decision to make changes has to be calculated nicely; do it hastily, and you risk completely upsetting the playing applecart and we suffer on the pitch, procrastinate, and we might well have reached the point of no return in the Prem by that time. Mind you, if what I saw on the list tonight is to be believed (although the source was stated to be this evening?s MOTD2, so it sounds kosher) the players are already in disharmony; according to reports, there was a bit of a punch-up on the coach coming back. I wonder what that was all about, and who was/were the aggressor(s), and who the recipient(s)? Whichever way the final Board decision leans, if hasty or just plain incorrect, the bottom line is you stand the very good chance of losing the club millions in revenue, the only variable being in the degree of risk you find acceptable. As you all well know, I?m no apologist for our manager or his more macho man-management methods, for that matter, but what we have to weigh up here is whether or not we do risk making that potentially suicidal leap from the frying pan to the fire by ditching him. If things really are as bad as reported between the two men, then I don?t envy Jeremy Peace one little bit in deciding what to do.

But hang on a minute ? all this wild speculation is predicated upon the assumption that The Ginger One is going to get his cards within a very short space of time, but right now, everyone seems to be denying like crazy there are going to be Immediate Changes Made at managerial level. According to the Sunday Murky (cheers for that, Tel), the whole thing?s going to come to a head within the next two weeks, and not immediately, so that?s yet another reason (for our leader, at any rate, if not for we footsoldiers) why it?s absolutely imperative we do serious damage to Fulham next Saturday, which ain?t going to be easy. According to reports, they were done to death yesterday by a duo of diabolical refereeing decisions versus Arsenal, and should really have come away with something for their pains, had natural justice properly prevailed. No, Saturday?s the important one; yesterday?s abortive Anfield exercise, humbling as it was, can be regarded as relatively unimportant in the greater scheme of things. Think ?sacrificial pawns? and you?ve got it in one. Sure, we were well-outclassed on Merseyside, but as I pointed out yesterday, I?d written that one off long before setting out, and I?m damn sure most other Baggies were similarly pragmatic about our prospects also.

You want another excellent reason? Well, Norwich provided me with a decent one today; they drew bloodlessly with bloody Spurs at White Hart Lane, which, of course, had the cheering effect of chucking us a tad nearer the bottom on goal difference. Watching the game on the box from beginning to end this afternoon, more or less, two things struck me; the first was the brilliant form of their keeper, Green, whose saves were absolutely vital in keeping them in there and kicking, and the second was the rock-solid discipline of their defence, a pleasing contrast to the near-almighty stramash I saw at Anfield yesterday. In fact, it?s fair to say they could have sneaked a cheeky win at the last, almost. Huckerby one-on-one with their keeper then leaving him for dead, sprawled helplessly and impotently on the turf, then belting like a steam train with a boiler blown towards the North Londoners? gaping goalmouth. It was only the sheer speed of one of their defenders in catching up and toppling the rampaging Canary before he could pull the trigger that prevented big-time home embarrassment for the Londoners, and a further plunge for us.

Looking on the bright side, finally, if reports are to be believed, the reason given publicly why we put out such an odd line-up yesterday was because of minor injury problems. Earnshaw was allegedly left out of the Anfield picture because of a combination of a tweaked hamstring and lack of training (he only joined us on the Thursday before the game). Additionally, Contra wasn?t properly match-fit, and the same applied to Gaardsoe. At least by Saturday, our players will have had almost seven days to train together (assuming they?re not still indulging in fisticuffs, that is!), and all the new-bugs will have had a proper chance to get used to our pattern of tactical play. Hopefully, that will give us a bit more of an edge, and by the time we take to the pitch once more, things will be running a lot more smoothly out there. Please? Pretty please?

And finally?. Interesting to listen to the Norwich supporters at White Hart Lane this afternoon; non-stop singing the praises of their favourites throughout the entire game; so silly, in fact, every time a Canary got the ball, he was soundly cheered by his followers in the stands. Funny, the last time I heard of a large group of people embarking on such a massed choral cheering-up exercise was immediately before the Battle Of The Somme, back in 1916 ? and look where that led ?em. Seriously, though, the fervour and sheer volume of their support didn?t half remind me of our first, somewhat na?ve, it has to be said now, stay in this division, some two seasons ago. Enjoy it while you may, O sons and daughters of The Blessed Delia (may her saucepans never boil over), because it won?t last. Just wait until stark reality sets in!

 - Glynis Wright

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