Goodbye, then, to all that. Never mind the hazily packaged pre-match nostalgia. This was in the end a confusing, ragged, occasionally furious farewell to Upton Park as before kick-off on a humid night in East London, West Ham’s supporters did their best to ease the pain of leaving this venerable old ground by throwing bottles through the window of the Manchester United bus on its way into the ground.
For a while there was a shiver of genuine disorder as crowds were moved on by the police, families required to pick their kids up to ease the pavement crush. Coming so soon after the unaffected, orderly joy of Leicester City’s celebration party last weekend it was all a little jarring, a reminder of how quickly things can turn the other way with the right levels of booze, stupidity and lax crowd control.
Unsettling
In the hours before the game the narrow urban streets were crammed with people in shirts and scarves simply standing around taking pictures, and enjoying the moment. The absence of crowd control was a little unsettling even then.
Finally, with United already delayed there was that moment of wretchedness that not only soured the occasion but also offered a spur to the argument that this really is a necessary change of scene.
Certainly West Ham’s owners, the television companies and anybody else involved in marketing English football will now dust their hands down a little more decisively and say, well, enough of that. Off to the landscaped acres of Stratford.
After which it was a relief to get down to a more orderly pre-match ceremony. As the skies faded to a power blue over the Chicken Shed roof there was a moment of genuine loveliness as the band played Abide With Me and the names of the Upton Park aristocracy scrolled across the big screen: John Lyall, Malcolm Allison, Ron Greenwood and, to the biggest cheer of all, Bobby Moore.
At pitch side the bubbles fizzed as a great bawling chorus broke around the clanky, corrugated stands. And why not? Come next season West Ham's supporters won't really be able sing their favourite song with the same feeling. Bubbles is all about underdog style, romance over expectation. But West Ham aren't blowing bubbles any more. This is a club that can now deal in cash-fuelled certainties. I'm forever blowing rent-reduced match-day revenues on Theo Walcott (or equivalent).
Meanwhile, a game of football broke out. A crumbly old institution, out of date, sagging at the edges: Louis Van Gaal may soon be reaching the end of his own active life in English football. Here his United team were flustered early on, thrown perhaps by the oddity of the occasion and the thrust of West Ham’s early attacks. Diafra Sakho’s early goal was no surprise.
The home fans roared under the oddly retro yellowish lights. “Stand up for the Boleyn Ground”, rang out.
The sense of an ending lingered behind it all, an ending that was in truth always coming, as it has to almost all of London’s clubs in one way or another in recent times. Greater powers than sport are in play here. This has always been a relentless commercial city, driven by vast surging tides of hunger and greed.
And Upton Park was never really likely to stand up to this for long. The same force that is flushing out Upton Park will also flush out the local shops in time and many of the people. Half an hour east along East India Dock is the Shard, the financial district’s giant raised middle finger towards the rest of urban London.
Tiny pavements
Bye bye then, Boleyn! Few will miss the kettling corridors, the transport nightmare, the tiny pavements. Many will miss the atmosphere, the history. It is possible also to miss the idea that a football club can simply sit where it’s left, not required to jump whenever the lure of a little extra lucre appears.
What is certain is that football and London will move on very quickly, perhaps with a little more haste after a wild, slightly unfortunate goodbye.
Guardian Service
