The Diary

24 August 2005: A Bridge Over Troubled (Premiership) Waters?

A slightly belated start time tonight, and for two excellent reasons. Firstly, the need to keep close tabs on what was happening in the wild and woolly world of the Prem, not to mention the doings of the League Cup ? after all, somewhere among all that lot will be our opponents in the next round. The other? A mad dash from our GP, then to ASDA in Great Bridge, then to the nearby cash and carry, for moggy food in quantity. Amidst all that lot, ?Im Indoors became slightly unwell, so I had to shift a fair bit of the stuff from our car and into our little den myself ? needless to say, my back?s protested, and so has ?Im Indoors?s dicky chest. Talk about two physical wrecks; perhaps euthanasia?s the only sensible option left for the pair of us.

Of one thing I?m certain, though. We might both be feeling a tad under the weather right now, but that?s nowhere near what agonies those poor sods at Forest will be feeling. Three two to Macclesfield, and at the City Ground as well. Oh, whoops! No matter what our favourite football team get up to, there always comes a time when you see someone else?s result flash up on the old screen, and you promptly tell the Devil you?ll give anything you care to name to be a fly on their dressing-room wall, post-match; Forest?s demise provides yet another splendid example of what I?m on about. Poor Scott Dobie; having been on the receiving end of his gaffer?s infamous nuclear explosions so many times in the past, he must have known all-too well what was coming ? but did the rest of his colleagues, I wonder? Eek! There are other Cup upsets to note ? that of Ipswich on their own muck heap, above all ? but the Prem has also thrown up one superb chuckle-making scoreline in particular. Blues 0 Boro 3, anyone?

But back to tonight?s labours, and a continuation of a theme I started on the Boing mailing-list not long after I?d completed last night?s offering, the subject-matter of which concerned the financial implications for our supporters making the trip to West London tomorrow night, and my reaction to the proposal from someone else on the list that we should stage a demo against Chelski?s downright-scandalous pricing policy. Below, I give the text of what I posted last night; I was pleased to note today that many had concurred with what I had to say on the subject, and had chucked their own thoughts into the mixer as well. See what you think, then shoot me down in flames afterwards if you don?t agree.

?We've already made our protest - with our feet. It's a nice thought, what you propose, but as far as Abramovic is concerned, it's like water off a duck's back. All those boring little people, moaning because of the price-hike - so what? Pour me another glass of Krug, Jeeves. It's sad that Albion will have to pick up the tab regarding all those tickets that remain unsold, but when faced with the choice of having to splash out a sum not far short of ?150 for both hubby and myself travelling, admission, incidentals etc. and staying here listening from afar, but ending up with a far healthier weekly budget balance as a result, what can you do? We're lucky in one respect. Children don't come into the financial equation as far as we're concerned, but imagine the dilemma faced by regular followers who do, and are fearful of what that London trip will do to their family finances?

?From what I've heard from other supporters, our 'refusenik' stance is hardly an isolated example. The away attendance at Stamford Bridge tomorrow is going to be downright embarrassing. Even our ancient chum Terry Wills is going to give tomorrow's game a miss - and he's a supporter who would normally attend an away game, even if they suddenly changed the venue to the outer moons of Jupiter at the last minute.

?Carry on in this Premiership 'screw the genuine supporters, encourage the yuppies and corporate wallahs' vein for very much longer - I regard what's happening at Chelsea as very much the thin end of the wedge - and the lifeblood of the game will insidiously haemorrhage to the point where retrieval of the situation will prove impossible. Every supporter, no matter what division their team is in, has a personal cut-off point, a rip-off threshold, if you like; as far as Chelsea is concerned, we've reached ours, and, very soon, so will others.

?In other words, should our players find themselves having to perform in front of a half-empty (or worse) Hawthorns ten or twenty years further down the line, you won't need the deductive powers of a Sherlock Holmes to work out what started the rot in the first place, will you??

That?s what I said about tomorrow?s fiscally-draining bloodletting session on the Boing list, then. Huw Morris, a long-standing Baggie and one of the list moderators, made the point that our own attendance for last Saturday?s Pompey win was also down, and he was one of the ones who chose to stay away, for the reasons I?ve outlined as per tomorrow?s game. Another of our followers, who lives in Hammersmith, virtually round the corner from Stamford Bridge, will be giving tomorrow a miss also, for the simple reason that he deems the admission price scandalous because last season, he went and found ?the view was crap and the facilities appalling. Why would I go again?? Later still this morning, I spotted yet another post, and quite interesting, that one ? it consists of extracts from a recent article, the subject-matter of which is precisely what I?m on about ? Rip-Off City, and all who serve in it. Apparently, Chelsea are even having problems selling tickets for tomorrow?s game to their own! Whether it?s Villa-like arrogance writ large or not I?m unable to say, but the bottom line was that at the time of writing, thousands of their home-end seats still remained unsold for our game.

The article then went on to say that the Prem were adopting a "wait and see" approach to the dispiriting news, which apparently comes in the wake of disappointing crowds at Sunderland, Manchester United, Aston Villa and Blackburn, plus, more astonishing still, Newcastle's first struggle to sell season tickets in years. Hell, you know what they?re like up there ? stick eleven black and white striped shirts on a washing-line, leave them hanging there to dry, and the silly Geordie sods would just sit there and watch it. And normally pay good money just to do so. It?s not unknown for crowds in the region of thousands to turn up just to watch the first team train ? or it used to be. Getting hold of a season-ticket for St. James?s Park was customarily a case of ?dead man?s shoes? ? unless you?d come into one as a result of Great Uncle Fred kicking the bucket, or similar, you simply couldn?t get hold of one for love nor money. If there are now gaps in the seated ranks up there, and others showing a distinct reluctance to take the previous owner?s place, then the situation must be developing into something rather more serious than I?d first imagined.

The Prem?s leaders might not be hitting the panic button right now, but the chairman of the Football Supporters' Association Malcolm Clarke, better placed with his finger on the pulse, more likely than not, recently issued a stark warning. He directly links their slow sales with Chelsea chief executive Peter Kenyon's pre-season claim that "the winner of the title will come from a small bunch of one". Couple that bit of presumptuous cheek with the revelation that the cheapest seats on sale to home supporters at Chelsea tomorrow are ?48, with others available at ?60, and you begin to see why. Clarke reckons that this reluctance on the part of both sets of supporters to flash the cash demonstrates there are already a number of signs that the bubble in the Premiership is beginning to burst. Huw Morris had a slightly different handle on the problem, but highly-pertinent, all the same: ?Twenty five years ago, West Brom had a team that was able to challenge for the League Championship. I can't see that happening again without some significant changes. When supposedly big clubs like Tottenham, Man City, Newcastle and Aston Villa have no chance of winning the league, let alone the likes of us, there's something seriously wrong.?

But back to Malcolm Clarke again, who then went on to say, "At the weekend, Manchester United had tickets on general sale for the first time in many years. And when you look at the prices at Chelsea, their situation is not surprising. When Peter Kenyon says it's a one-horse race, he should realise that what follows is hardly surprising. How many racehorse punters want to go and watch a one-horse race? Maybe Mr Kenyon should be asked why (their) fans should pay ?48 to watch a one-horse race."

Chelsea recently took out a newspaper advert, publicising the fact tickets were still available for Albion's visit. While sales continued today, the box office predicted they would be open tomorrow from 9am, with seats likely to be available. Not exactly the strongest indication Stamford Bridge is going to pack ?em in like sardines tomorrow evening, is it?

"We had Newcastle advertising season tickets on local radio this summer, which was unheard of a few years ago, and probably next season it might get even worse for them," Clarke added. "A lot of people renewed because they thought they couldn't run the risk of not getting into games. Now they've realised there are match tickets on sale. Prices at the top level in British football are the dearest in Europe by some margin, and have risen way beyond the level of inflation since the Premiership was formed.

"Lord Justice Taylor, in his Hillsborough report, said a reasonable price for seats at a Premiership game would be ?6. That was 15 years ago, and if you put the inflation multiplier on that, it comes out as ?11-something (about ?17). Manchester City, who have a reputation for having 'wonderwall' fans, didn't sell out their allocation at Birmingham the other day. Most Manchester City fans think there's no chance of winning anything this season, after selling Shaun Wright-Phillips, so why spend a lot of money?"

According to the same piece, Arsenal versus Fulham tomorrow night is a sell-out, but tickets were still available for Bolton's home match against Newcastle, and Blackburn were fearing another low crowd for the visit of Tottenham. The announcement that tickets at Ewood Park would be available right until kick-off (common enough at Nationwide level, it?s a near-astronomical phenomenon in the Prem) and Blackburn, as they regularly do, advertised the match locally. This is a club, remember, very heavily subsidised by the late Sir Jack Walker?s legacy, which is why they can charge adult prices starting at ?15, with the maximum there being ?32. Blackburn had no such problems during their boom mid-1990s period, but just 16,953 showed for Saturday's match with Fulham, meaning the 31,367-capacity stadium was barely half full. "I hate to say we told you so, but we did tell them so," said Clarke.

The Prem are currently maintaining a relatively-relaxed stance about what appears to be a nationwide trend for gradually diminishing numbers of bums on seats, and, to be fair, the present campaign is but yet young. What will paint a much better picture of current trends is the moment when the attendance figures for the Prem as a whole are revealed, much later still.

Someone else commented today that they could not understand the mentality of people who had happily flocked through the turnstiles when we were ?entertaining? the likes of Southend, Gillingham, and Co. but wouldn?t stump up for top-class football that put on display some of the most talented players in the world. The answer, my friend, isn?t ?blowing in the wind? ? it?s just rampant inflation. The figures Clarke quoted above show that ever since the start of the Prem, price-hikes at that level have run so far ahead of themselves, before too long, it?ll need the services of a supercharged jet fighter to bring them back down again. Either that, or a complete root-and-branch overhaul of the Prem and its pricing philosophy will prove to be necessary, because if those warning signs I mentioned aren?t heeded, before too long, what I?ve feared ever since the top sides broke away around 1992 will actually come to pass; greed, pure and simple, will kill the goose that laid the golden egg.

Back tomorrow night, of course, and, of necessity, with what will have to be a somewhat drastic change in format. Not quite sure how I?ll tackle my Stamford Bridge non-attendance, but what I will be doing tomorrow morning is going down the pesky library once more, and sticking my inky little fingers right into Albion?s murky past. More local newspapers to peruse, but from 1920 this time. In addition to grabbing all the serious stuff for ?Im Indoors, I?ll also be keeping a weather-eye out for other sundry quirky items, football-related or otherwise. Don?t say I didn?t warn you!

And Finally?. As promised, more info about the lad whose obituary I carried in last night?s effort; thanks to Steve Sant once more for supplying the details. Gregg Sprigg ? that?s his full name - was 31 when he passed away, and worked in Kingswinford as a warehouse supervisor in the machine parts trade for a US owned company called Interlock. He was Black Country born and bred, and lived near Stourbridge. He leaves behind a wife Emma. There were no children. Naturally, my thoughts are very much with the family at this sad time.

 - Glynis Wright

Contact the Author

Diary Index