He made his fortune from waste disposal... now he’s turned Orient to rubbish
The usual assortment of cardboard cups, plastic bottles and fast-food wrappers litter the gutters of Brisbane Road and taped to the metal of the turnstile doors are wanted posters featuring a cartoon image of Francesco Becchetti.
Leyton Orient hold their breath and wait in suspended animation for the inevitable drop.
It will come tomorrow at Luton if they lose and other results go against them, or it might come on Monday when hartlepool are the visitors to east London.
either way it is coming. A team consisting mainly of teenagers and coached by Omer Riza, promoted with them from the youth ranks to become Orient’s fifth manager of the season, have lost six in a row, conceding 20 and scoring once.
Morale is shattered. No one has been paid since the end of February and owner Becchetti has been absent for weeks.
Creditors, including the firm which provides the stewards, printers, agents and Waltham Forest Council are forming a queue, owed thousands.
A winding-up order for unpaid taxes has been adjourned until June. Staff have been told March’s pay could be with them today, a fortnight late, but similar promises have been broken before.
The PFA, the players’ union, this week met LOFT, the fans’ trust who launched a fighting fund, to discuss a rescue package and the Football League say they remain in regular dialogue with the club’s hierarchy.
The despair is palpable. Mike Ockelford, a supporter born in Buckingham Road, behind the South Stand in 1962, the year Orient were promoted to the top flight for the one time in a rich history, is plotting an ‘Oh, What a Circus’ protest.
he wants fans to dress as clowns for the hartlepool game, for which ticket prices have been slashed to £5.
Plans are afoot to create a banner announcing the death of a club established in 1881, London’s second oldest behind Fulham, and ‘killed’ in 2017.
‘It is born out of the anger and frustration of watching the demise of this club over three years,’ said Ockelford. ‘ The responsibility is down to Francesco Becchetti but football’s authorities have a lot to answer for too.’
The club were founded as Glyn Cricket Club and changed their name to Leyton Orient after the Second World War, reaching their pinnacle with a year in Division One in 1962-63.
Photographs of the promotion team hang proudly in the reception, accompanied by images of glorious moments in the Seventies starring Laurie Cunningham and the team who reached an FA Cup semi-final, featuring Glenn Roeder, Peter Kitchen, John Chiedozie and Tony Grealish.
There have been crises, too, and 19 years of stability under sports promoter Barry hearn, who took them to the brink of the Championship in 2014.
They led Rotherham 2-0 in the play- off final at Wembley before losing on penalties, and hearn sold the club to Becchetti for £4million, hailing a fabulous future.
It has been downhill ever since. Fast. The blinds are drawn and security cameras peer out from Becchetti’s five-bedroom Mayfair pad, which was converted from a pub and is valued at £25m.
It has taken the Italian, who hails from a family which made its fortune in waste management and recycling, roughly three years to destroy Leyton Orient.
‘To be fair he put in bundles of money like he promised,’ said hearn. ‘But I couldn’t anticipate what a magnificent cock-up he would make of the whole thing.
‘With 10 managers in less than three years, it beggars belief. Signings, tactics, interference, every bad thing a chairman could be. I can’t understand his plans or motives or what on earth has gone on.
‘And here we are, staring into the abyss of non-League football for the first time in the club’s history. It’s a very sad day. It hurts me. I’ve been a fan since I was 11 and I have to accept a certain amount of responsibility because I sold him the club.’
hearn owns the stadium but will not be riding to the rescue. ‘Absolutely not,’ said the 68-yearold. ‘I gave up a huge amount of my life for a football club which will never make money and that’s OK.
‘But no more. I’ve been burned. Never again. I made a solemn pledge to my family. Football is a flawed business. Let’s not kid ourselves. No one cares about the lower leagues other than the fans. They get cast away like debris from a ship.’
Interested investors are circling but Becchetti will have to swallow a loss on the money he paid to hearn and the £10m he claims to have poured into Leyton Orient.
Vito Miceli, chief operating officer and the club’s only visible link to the absent owner, was not in the mood to talk when he arrived at Brisbane Road from the training ground in essex.
Miceli politely declined to answer questions about unpaid wages and the intentions of Becchetti.
‘It’s time for him to wipe his mouth like a man and move on,’ said hearn. ‘To show he has the character to say it was his fault and let someone else have a go.
‘This is a famous old club with a great history of community service. It still has its heart and soul and spirit and can rise from the ashes.’