Here is a potted account of when I visited Upton Park for the visit of Newcastle United. Magpie songs consisted of “When the Mags go marching in,” “Geordie Boys are pissing around [during the team’s ascendancy],” lusty renditions of the “Blaydon Races,” “Shall we sing a song for you [shall we sing a, shall we sing a, shall we sing a song for you, shall we sing a song for you]” and, bravely, “Your support is f**king shit” – the Boelyn ground stood this provocation of the last chant for a fair while, no doubt disheartened by their lacklustre team, but eventually the Bobby Moore stand was roused to growl “Who the f**king, who the f**king, who the f**king hell are you, who the f**king hell are you,” but their full-throatedness lasted only one verse , as if they were embarrassed by all this fornication (coupled with the Magpie fans having a more effective punchline) and a second chanting of the ditty swiftly dissipated.
I am something of an expert at attending Newcastle United’s away games while sitting in the home end. Should the home team score or do well, I maintain an air of studied inexpression, while if and when Newcastle take the initiative, especially with goals, I exude from my visage baffled disgruntlement and disappointment, while burning inside. My exterior was as stone for both Newcastle’s goals, knowing any happy reaction would see my person ejected from Upton Park.
Newcastle, after going behind (the impressively intimidating opening to the match made this seem almost inevitable), gradually cam on stronger and stronger as the match progressed, underlining their good away form. By the end, the West Ham team were chasing shadows, black-and-whiters going on forty/fifty yard runs before a claret-and-blue put a tackle in. I was sitting near the dug outs and one West Ham in close attendance to me, stood up and shouted “Sort it aht, Avram!” The manager Grant turned from the touchline and looked visibly diminished – I nearly felt like shedding a tear for his sadness, but then he virtually always looks despondent.
As to the Boeyln Ground, the build-up and the opening ten minutes were fantastic if viewed objectively, really atmospheric, “I’m forever blowing bubbles” reverberating around the stadium. As Newcastle took an ever tighter grip on the match, especially after the woeful, slack defending for Newcastle’s second goal, with Ameobi – not closed down – passing to Barton – in acres of space – who crossed for Carroll to power in – completely unmarked – as the Magpies did this, the crowd went sullen and largely, eerily silent, bar sporadic and spontaneous hefty yet brief interludes of noise where the claret-and-blue went through their classic chants before the sound fell into abeyance once more. When people started leaving with twenty minutes to go, becoming a torrent with five minutes left, I was disgusted because their team was only 2-1 down and needed all the support it could get. One boy asked his dad why they had stayed so late at the stadium and his father responded by saying it was to avoid the crowds – the correct way to beat the rush and crush. I suppose though for a significant amount of people it is the modern way though, as is booing the defeated home team, though I was shocked that, with still a full minute of injury time to play, the fans showed their vocal disaffection, with the cue being the sponsors’ home man of the match being announced as Scott Parker (who had run his heart out for them). Talking about adding insult to injury (time). West Ham’s plight seemed to be summed up by the frontispiece name of the club emblazoned on the stadium, having the ‘I’ and the ‘T’ of United – as in West Ham United – failing to be illuminated with the rest of the title. Very shoddy from a top-flight club. The lights may be going out for West Ham, but I hope they stay up.
Other observations I had was how impressive I felt Cheik Tiote’s ball-winning skills were and how man-mountain Mike Williamson is to Chris Hughton when the latter gave the former a talk at the side of the pitch during a break in play, though I suppose Andy Caroll or Shola Ameobi standing next to the manager would have engendered the same. There were two superfluous televisions in the ground, one high in the stands, but also one nigh at pitch level and it was the lower one that proved quite distracting and rarely showed anything relevant – I’m sure Chris Hughton wanted to see himself unscrew a cap from a bottle of water.
Overall and at root, a good win for Newcastle United Football Club.