Why I Won't Be At Carshalton Tomorrow

It’s time for a little Jackanory. Lie back and enjoy.

Imagine this for a moment. You support an imaginary football club. Let’s call them Farshalton Athletic for the time being. Farshalton Athletic have a proud history as one of the leading Non League clubs in their country, which for the purposes of this scenario, we will call Sorry. Now although on a national scale, Farshalton don’t pull up any trees, they have over the years accumulated a loyal following of fans who follow them far-ish and wide-ish around various local-ish grounds supporting their club through thick and thin. Farshalton have a unique kit colour amongst other clubs in the league, a lovely shade of Claret or Maroon if you like. Nothing so dull and uniformed as Red, Blue or Amber and Chocolate for them, oh no. And the badge that adorns the strip is a classic design, evoking all sorts of memories when people see it. Following Farshalton Athletic is good, it’s comfortable, it’s secure.

Then, all of a sudden like a thunderbolt of lightning and a fist of dynamite, a man takes the club over. The man promises rainbows and cotton wool clouds, success and beer made of gold. Ok, so his name sounds like the title of a Right Said Fred song, but that never held Kevin Saxelby back. Some of what the man does is good, the bar is renovated, the pitch is sorted out, he is clearly a man of some means and not a man of idle promises. Although the beer isn’t really made of gold, but in fact of gold plated silver, that doesn’t make the man a liar. The man loves Farshalton Athletic as it is, but like the man who never has a big enough LCD TV, he cannot help tinkering. He ditches the youth scheme that has been in place for a number of years and brings in his own people from outside. The man also prefers Red to Claret or Maroon. Afterall, don’t all the most successful teams from history play in Red? Manchester United, Liverpool, Arsenal, Spain, Barnsley. Why then, not Farshalton as well? The kit has to be at least as important, if not more so than the players on the pitch and man in the dugout. To go with the spiffy new Red kit the man designs a spiffy cutting edge aerodynamic badge. Suddenly, when faced with the prospect of guaranteed glory, those ungrateful fans who have wallowed in the mediocrity offered by previous regimes at Farshalton are a little disgruntled.

The man, the one whose name sounds like the title of a Right Said Fred song, acts quickly to avert any crisis. Anyone who buys a Season Ticket, he announces by powerpoint presentation displayed on the side of Sutton Town Hall, will be entitled to a free replica shirt. In red. Still, the fans are not placated. So the man decides that if he cannot win the dogmatic puritanical stick in the muds over with free merchandise, then he will by offering them quality football to watch. He very nearly achieves it as well, only a missed penalty in the Play Off Final fails to take Farshalton through to a penalty shoot out to decide whether or not they would gain promotion to a higher level. The side entertain, they play football the quality of which you rarely see at their level. And yet despite all this, those that pay their money to come in and watch this utopian football have the nerve still to chunter away below the surface.

The only thing to quell this continuing discontent, the man whose name sounds like the title of a Right Said Fred song decides, is to produce a wonderful all singing, all dancing, all powerpoint summer presentation. Summer signings are presented to a selection of fans to great fanfare. Each new face has to produce a 20 minute presentation as to why they have chosen to play for Farshalton, and more importantly, to play for the man. ‘The title will come our way,’ the man proclaims amid great fanfare played by the piper named Jan Basel. Banksy and Tracy Emin are commissioned to complete a life-size portrait in the bar of the man and his motion to have the goals at Farshalton’s War Memorial ground re-sculptured into the shape of the man was sadly rejected at the league AGM for reasons he simply could not understand.

How The Portrait Might Look as Imagined by A.N Artist

The team began the season and some players left the club, realising that life under the man whose name sounds like the title of a Right Said Fred song wasn’t all it was cracked up to be months earlier. They hadn’t won the title by the August Bank Holiday. The manager left, and in came a former Farshalton hero as the new boss. No longer were the Farshalton fans treated to utopian football, instead they got what the man thought they deserved. Tripe. Long ball hoof it and chase it tripe. Classic brinkmanship, thought the man as the former Farshalton hero oversaw a slump in the club’s fortunes and 12 months after being oh so close to promotion, the club ended oh so close to relegation. If that doesn’t learn the ungrateful swine who still insist on wearing their Claret or Maroon shirts to matches, he thinks, I will be forced to take further action.

The following season, the man whose name etc..’s 3^rd as owner begins with yet another new manager at the helm. A manager who has achieved wonders at a club in the same league on a limited budget relying on the loyalty, hard work and continuity afforded him by a supportive board. For the first time in a while, the club seems to be on a more stable footing. But the man doesn’t like stability, he didn’t get where he is today by settling for stability. So he sacks the Manager who has achieved wonders at a club in the same league on a limited budget, and who has brought about stability and a solid mid-table platform to the club and installs himself as boss. The man becomes the Manager.

For some of the Farshalton fans, who have remained loyal to the side, if not the man, this is a Bridge too Far. This is their Arnhem. What has remained a simmering discontentment spills out onto the terraces and a section of support stand behind the man as he sits in the dugout and publically call him out about the way he is running their club. The man will not stand for this, he vows to quell the rebellion and in a decree proclaiming the War Memorial Ground a free and independent state. Long live the man, stated the decree, long live the People’s Free Republic of Farshalton. All are welcome, says the constitution, except these 10 people. And he sends these 10 people a letter stating that they are not welcome anywhere near the Free Republic of Farshalton. That they have been exiled from the Free Republic of Farshalton. He even goes so far as saying that anyone who goes to watch Farshalton in a different state and has the nerve to sing songs against the man will be reported to the Government forces and removed. Removed from what, the man doesn’t say.

Carshalton Athletic Team Photo: 2011/2

At their first home game of the season, 155 people turned up. Farshalton used to be able to expect at least double that number for the visit of Wealdstoned, particularly as Wealdstoned fans were amongst those that traveled in greater numbers than most other clubs. The man didn’t see this though having placed life sized photos of every member of the Polyphonic Spree around the ground, swelling the attendance in his view to more than 500. One of his foot soldiers, who wasn’t playing in the game against Wealdstoned, spat at one of the Wealdstoned fans at half time. Inappropriate behaviour from any civilised member of society, particularly one as pure and wholesome as the Free People’s Utopian Republic of Farshalton. The foot soldier concerned, is still awaiting his immediate life banning at the time of press. One can only surmise that he is still strung up by his goolies in the home dressing room.

Some of you may recognise elements and characters portrayed in this tall tale – some of the more believable stuff may not have happened and the timeline has been slightly scrambled for artistic purposes. Ever since Paul Dipre became owner of Carshalton Athletic Football Club, he has slowly alienated what at first I thought was sections of their support and now appears to be the majority. Things escalated in the summer with banning orders served against 10 of their supporters for what the powers that be, or Mr. Dipre in particular, have taken offence to. This has led to a war of words between those that toe the party line and those that choose not to and protest about the handling of their club that has now spilled onto the Hendon messageboard. One of the matches that Mr. Dipre claims unacceptable levels of abuse and language were used was at our game at the end of last season. As a poster on the Hendon forum said yesterday, those of us who witnessed that game are perfectly capable of making up our own minds as to which side of the story sounds more plausible. Suffice to say, I heard more bad language from the terraces on Saturday against Concord Rangers than I did at Colston Avenue back in April.

Let me make it absolutely clear that I have no axe to grind with Carshalton fans that are choosing to still support their club at home games, nor do I with any visiting fans that attend games at Colston Avenue. In fact, let me make it clear in case David Cameron’s Social Network police read this, I have no axe. At all. The reasons for my not attending the game on Saturday are entirely my own and thus. We’ve been lucky at Hendon in my time as a supporter that those in charge have been genuinely passionate about the club. However, some clubs aren’t so lucky and get shat upon from a great height. Most are happy to go along for the ride when faced with an egocentric owner, put their fingers in their ears and are adamant that it’s not going to happen to them. Invariably, ‘it’ does. I think the Carshalton fans that have been enjoying the good times on the field that they’ve had over the last few seasons (interspersed with some grim times as well) deserve credit for trying to stand up to an owner who is intent on doing whatever they want in spite of the one constant at any club – the fans. It takes quite a guy to get Sutton fans to take the same point of view as ‘Bobbins’ supporters. Mr. Dipre has done just that.

You get the impression that Mr. Dipre couldn’t give a damn if no one came through the gate such is the contempt he has displayed for the core of the Carshalton support. They’ve always struck me as a good bunch, up for a bit of banter and a good crack, yet generally honest when it comes to their side’s shortcomings. They don’t deserve what they’ve been lumbered with. I’m not going to get bogged down in the politics of who said what and when, I was able to make up my own mind through what I witnessed with my own eyes at the last game of last season and have read since. The letter sent to the banned parties can be read here. With the behaviour of Laurent Hamici being widely reported on twitter and both the Carshalton and Wealdstone forums, I will be interested to see how long it takes for the code of conduct to be brandished in front of him ready for his signature or whether he will be banned from the ground with immediate effect as well. I won’t hold my breath. What I will be holding is my hand firmly over my wallet with no intention of opening it and putting my £10 towards massaging Mr. Dipre’s ego.

Viva la revolucion!

 

Addendum: Since writing the bulk of this yesterday, it has been announced that Laurent Hamici has been fined £200 and suspended for 2 matches. The validity of this punishment can be called into question on the basis that Hamici is currently injured and expected to be out for another 3 weeks or so. It’s a bit like banning a driver for dangerous driving for 6 months when he’s been confined to a bed for 9 months after causing a massive accident. Quite what Hamici was doing on the bench on Tuesday night anyway when he was neither named as a substitute or a member of Dipre’s coaching staff is quite another thing. And one for another time.