Having Your End Away

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Thinking of moving? Think carefully before leaving home.

When Wycombe Wanderers picked up their chairs in 1990 and re-located from Loakes Park, just underneath the windows of Wycombe Hospital, to the very dead-end of Hillbottom Road, the club made one good decision; keep it simple – two ends, two sides.

Despite building a main stand that looms disproportionately over the ground beneath the Chiltern Hills, the beech trees and the watchful eye of Red Kites, the club still has a home end. It has a terrace for standing and enough space for a bit of moving around when its cold in that old chalk pit. The new home end has a roof that helps send out the singing and chants into the Buckinghamshire skies. It is not a very big home end, but it is a home end.

Quite a few new football grounds have appeared on the outskirts of towns in the last few years, some better than others. In the past month I have been to two that have provoked argument about whether new grounds are better than our home at Fratton Park.

The first thing I noticed in walking around the outside of the two stadiums was how much space is taken up by the new stadia. At the Ricoh Arena, home to Wasps Rugby Football Club and Coventry City FC, (tenants listed by size of average attendance), I suspect that the footprint of this facility is close to three times the size of the playing surface. The development includes hotel and conference facilities, a vast array of catering options, an indoor sports hall with a 12,000 capacity (that is also used for gigs and shows), and a casino. Football is a sideline.

The casino is an interesting element. During Pompey’s visit on 2nd October, a fellow supporter said, “Everyone was in the casino.”  (which raises concerns about his ability to count and also makes him an ideal candidate for the Black Jack table). Personally I am totally against such places. Money takes enough sweat to earn, so why chuck it away when you could spend it on a Pompey home game?

Inside the Coventry complex, behind neon signs and towering cliffs of plastic cladding is a football pitch and seating for crowds in excess of 32,000. When talk turns to visualising an ideal ground, (a regular topic in the queues for loos at Fratton Park, or the cosy crush in the South Stand Upper concourse), capacity is often discussed, along with sight-lines and toilet queues and drains.

The space behind the stands at the Ricoh Arena is impressive. The choice of Pompey videos to entertain visitors at the bars was thoughtful, the toilet queue non-existent. Overall not an unpleasant setting to visit. I also thought that the angle of the stand, (it seemed quite steep), helped The Blue Army produce a great sound that evening. So what was the problem?

The problem was trying to spot the home fans, (“Ultras” as Palace fans like to say in their sophisticated South London way). Where were the home fans?

As it turned out the home fans were located to the right of Pompey section and so had no chance of making any dent in the Pompey Wall of Sound. The other end of the ground was taken up by a vast empty shrine to the late Jimmy Hill with no-one but ball boys in attendance. It was left to visitors from Portsmouth to bring our own atmosphere and help entertain the locals.

So here’s the problem; in a more rounded stadium, where do home fans gather? How is the atmosphere built, sustained and maintained? Fratton Park can be an intimidating prospect for visiting teams, but could we keep that if we were to ever move?

I was working down the road just the other day. It was a match day and walking around that plastic stadium I was again struck at how much space a new ground takes up. This one, opened in 2001 it has at least two major flaws (some might say 30,000 flaws, but we’ll discuss that another time).

The first issue is that it is laid out from goal to goal on an East – West line.  With the sun low in the sky the Northam End, where visiting fans are placed, can be bathed in blinding sunlight. Many Pompey fans will remember a ridiculous mid-winter sunny midday kickoff when it was impossible to see what was happening for much of our 0-3 defeat (thankfully). When building an open-air sports facility, make sure to check where the sun is during the winter football season, i.e. usually low in the sky and following a rough east-west trajectory.

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RCD Espanyol where a kickoff before sunset would disturb the afternoon siesta

The second problem is the lack of an end for the home fans and the subsequent loss of atmosphere. At the Chapel End there is the family section with all its weird cartoon characters, (in addition to children’s entertainment and clowns dressed up as mascots).  This family section is as far away as possible from visiting supporters so they are less likely to witness any off-putting scenes close up, such as Pompey fans celebrating spectacular last minute goals. (Click link for gratuitous You Tube clip of a random David Norris effort).

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Distant view of Brighton fans on a Big Night Out

So if the family section takes up much of one end, do the Ultras spread out into the stands or, do they have to compete for an end with their guests? When I say compete, I mean try to out-sing, out-chant; the kind of thing that builds an atmosphere.

As Pompey fans most of us will have only ever been at this particular ground when 27,000 people are united in their bilious hatred of 3,000 of us, but on normal match days the atmosphere is very different. The crowd only unites and makes a bit of noise when things are going well – just like White Hart Lane. Besides the obvious, why is this? I think it’s because no one knows where the home end is; there is none. Without a concentrated end of fans doing all the blind-faith things they do we could be reduced to plastic clappers (as Sc*m have used), goal music (Urgh! Wolves?) or blokes with loudspeakers (any French Ligue 1 ground) to try and get the fans going.

This is a problem created by poor ground design. Too many new grounds have been  developed with money making in mind and not football as a priority. I believe that our friends from the USA see this is a major challenge in developing better facilities for Pompey fans. Pompey has to be a sustainable venture financially, operating competitively, but it will mean nothing if we become another Bolton Wanderers who play their games in an empty, soul-less concrete bowl out of reach of the local town, near the motorway, with reduced gates and little to shout about.

So if you have a bit of money to spend on a new home, yes, make sure that there is enough space, but absolutely definitely, without fail, make sure that there is a home end, none of this half-baked good site lines, nice catering, decent toilets, lovely hotel and a casino nonsense. Those are the extras, not what makes supporting Pompey so special.

CLP  08/10/2018

Revenge is a Dish Best Served Cold

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Do you really love Pompey?

There is a Pompey fan who refuses to eat Walker’s crisps. This policy, well-known amongst Northern Blues, was reported in Steve Bone’s Sports Mail column a couple of weeks ago, so you may need a pinch of salt, but it seems plausible. It is an example of how football impacts on daily life. For this most loyal Pompey fan no simple flavour choices at the bar, but the need to know who makes the product. The reason he decided this goes back to the early 1990s when Pompey played possibly the most entertaining football they had ever done before or since.

It was the year after the penalty debacle at Villa Park in the FA Cup semi-final replay with Liverpool. Darren Anderton’s career was in free fall after his transfer to Spurs and a career playing for England beckoning, when Jim Smith took Pompey on tour wowing the nation with flowing football and goals, goals, goals. Yet we won nothing and here we find the root of our fellow Blue’s decision to shun Walker’s crisps.

Walker’s had sponsored Leicester City since 1986 and it was Leicester who dumped Pompey out of the First Division play-offs in 1993. It was a controversial result. The twelve men of Leicester completely outfoxed Pompey in the match at Fratton Park. Jim Smith had failed to spot that Leicester had a numerical advantage in the second leg. This meant Pompey only had eleven men on the pitch at any one time. It was a huge tactical error that Jim and his coaching staff regret to this day. To be fair not all the Leicester players were in yellow that night, as Roger Milford was a late pick and had to play in all black. And he came tooled up; he carried a whistle.

This Pompey fan did not cut Walker’s crisps from his life in a fit of pique as he is a fair man. If Pompey ever get beaten “fair and square” this man will be the first to say those very words. Sadly over the years he has had to say those very words far too often. No,  this decision has been thought through and a personal sacrifice has been made to mark the injustices of 19th May 1993.  In a manner that Gandhi would approve, this particular fan denies himself one of life’s pleasures in order to carry a beacon to mark that injustice.

You can see why he made his decision on this You Tube link Pompey vs Leicester 1993 Travesty

Before Steve Bone’s article, this modest personal crusade was known by only a few. Our hero quietly committed to this policy and has sustained it in pubs, clubs and bars throughout the football world. Not for him “Two pints of lager and a packet of crisps, please?” but “Two pints of lager and can you tell me what brand of crisps you’ve got, please?” Quite a mouthful, but a phrase he has trained himself to say word perfect at every opportunity.

Now the cat is out of the bag all Pompey fans will look differently at crisp choices.  When a prophet walks amongst us we learn. Comparing yourself with a prophet can often result in self-loathing and bitter regret that sworn commitment to Pompey has only ever been skin deep. Yes, count the grounds you have been to, wear the shirt, stay for the whole match, don’t miss a game for years on end, but is your love for Pompey constant? Do you really love Pompey and do you walk the true path? Well, if you haven’t given up Walker’s crisps you need to have a word with yourself.

However, brothers and sisters redemption is at hand. If you ever fall into temptation,  are taken by the hand of the beast that is PepsiCo and led to eat Walker’s crisps, you can save yourself one packet at a time. You can earn forgiveness for your weakness of faith by one simple action. How is this done? Just send the packet back to Leicester free of charge.

Walker’s say that by 2025 no plastic will be used in its packs, but in that time, at a rate of 11 million packets a day, tons of landfill waste will have been produced. More information can be found here People Are Posting Their Non-Recyclable Crisp Packets Back To … 

To show you really love Pompey give Walker’s the hurry up and help persuade them to change crisp packaging. Use the Walker’s free postal service address and save your Pompey soul. Every pack you send back will ensure that the injustices of 19th May 1993 will not be forgotten.

FREEPOST LE4 918. Leicester LE4 5ZY

Send back any pack without charge. All you need is a bit of sticky tape, a pen and a bit of paper to write the address* on and post it back to the city of Leicester.

*In an update from Royal Mail you are asked to use and envelope. This is the privatised service that was run by the Scot, Alan Crozier, who used to run the Premier League, so you decide BBC Leicester.

Alternatively you could follow the humble lead from the North and just stop buying Walker’s products.

Remember 19/05/93 – Say “No” to Walker’s

CLP 23/09/2018CLP

Season’s End

16A1E6D1-891D-46B0-A80A-439EEF5BCDE5.jpegAt last wind from the sea is welcome.

Dust not leaf litter blows along gutters

Pollarded beech trees add leafy tints

to Frensham Road.

 

The movement of people is looser

in summer shorts, blue shirt tops,

although blue and white of Pompey scarves

is still worn despite cricket weather heat.

 

Excitable sons gambol alongside

long-striding men looking ahead

to August,

ignoring twelve mid-year weeks,

while grandads show gentle interest,

kindly coaxing little lads back

onto root-lifted pavements,

answering high-pitched questions about who might play

and why another favourite won’t

and this and that and, and, and…Grandpa?

 

A block-shaped car

is parked particularly precisely,

a wheeled chair is removed,

unfolded, locked into shape

and careful, strong-gripped manoevres

position a determined animated,

colourfully dressed fan,

safe into place, ready to roll

to sit in concreted shade,

where eyes sharpened,

alight to athletic movement

on mown patterns, across white lines

pitched between flag-marked corners,

watch keenly every detail of pre-match

preparation and ritual.

 

Contrast from the shadowing South Stand,

marks near black on brilliant green,

cuts so sharp that momentary

sight loss flickers in eyes squinting

to adjust as they chase

colours, given stronger tone

by Sun set high with a perfect seat,

but who has to drag herself reluctantly away out west

before the final whistle,

but only after pouring one last gulped pint

of welcome warmth

into sun-glassed faces.

 

Impenetrable bright sky, sets off the scene in blue hue not seen inland,

so blue that stars behind become anxious

they will not get on to play tonight.

 

Wide-winged gulls’ cries of the sea are drowned at birth,

over-whelmed, engulfed in waves of voices,

by microphoned, amplified announcements,

strong rhythms, clapping, chants and songs.

 

For some this is the last match.

No substitute will step in when they get pulled from the pitch.

Some will know their part near played up,

others will depart the game in shock,

their removal a surprise to all.

 

Unfair, unwarned and fiercely questioned,

why did they get The Manager’s call?

Yet another sign of unfathomable tactics.

 

Next season, last game in fresh May

their names will be on the lips

of the man who reads The List

of those who once so happily

trooped along to Fratton Park.

 

 

CLP 05/05/2018

Dedicated to Albert Perry “Grampy”