Fan’s lame flag protest a symbol of a growing disconnect
West Ham unrest is latest example of clubs incurring the wrath of the supporters who help fund them, writes Jim White
There was nothing spontaneous in the actions of the middleaged West Ham fan who ran on to the pitch at the London Stadium on Saturday brandishing a corner flag.
It may have looked an oddly self-indulgent thing to do, wandering on to the playing surface holding the flag in one hand as if he were channelling the spirit of Sir Chris Hoy at the London 2012 Olympic opening ceremony in the same stadium.
But the truth was he was attempting to make a pointed visual reference to a previous act of rebellion at West Ham.
In 1992 a fan ran on to the pitch to protest at the imposition of a hugely unpopular bond scheme by the then West Ham board and, to a huge ovation from fellow supporters, stuck a purloined corner flag into the centre spot.
It was a stark image of insurrection, one which sparked a series of protests by season-ticket holders that eventually stalled the scheme. Times have changed, however. Health and safety regulations have meant corner flags no longer have pointed shafts. To remain upright, they sit in plastic sleeves sunk into the turf. So when the man attempted to plant the flag as his protesting predecessor had done, it simply keeled over, falling limply to the ground.
As a symbol of what is going on at West Ham, it could not have been bettered. At the London Stadium, nothing seems to stick.
The blundered move from the Boleyn Ground has unleashed an unfocused fury that has plunged the club into a wretched internecine scramble, as fans turn against the owners, against the players, and, most depressingly of all, against each other.
Unwittingly thrust into this poisonous feud, manager David Moyes is struggling to cohere a disaffected playing staff enough to forestall what looks increasingly like relegation – the very relegation the move to the giant moneymaking machine of the stateowned stadium was meant to ensure could never happen.
But what is going on at West Ham is no more than an extreme demonstration of an everwidening gulf across football. The battle that pitches modernism against tradition, sport against entertainment, globalisation against localism, cash against community is being waged everywhere.
It hangs thick in the air at Newcastle, kept from brimming to the surface by manager Rafael Benitez. It is evident at Swansea, West Bromwich Albion, Leeds, Sunderland, Birmingham and Charlton.
At Coventry it has come close to destroying a club who once stood for studiously maintained stability. The incidentals may be different, but the basics of the story are the same: a cavernous disconnect between those who own the club and those whose loyalty funds it.
Though Saturday’s flag-wielding pitch invasion had none of the terrifying possibilities of the one in Greece over the weekend, when the owner of PAOK confronted the referee at the end of a match against AEK Athens while wearing a gun in his belt, it was sufficiently serious for the Premier League to consider making West Ham play their next few home fixtures behind closed doors.
Such an order will come as a relief to diehard Hammers: at least they might get a better view on the television than they get from their seats positioned across the running track.
But whatever happens, the pitch invader has, however inadvertently, made his point. His lame and ultimately limp demonstration was an apt metaphor for our times.
Like his corner flag, in the business of modern football nothing remains upright for long without proper roots.