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The GoatyGav Column

Growing Up A Hammer In The North

This week’s article is something a bit different. After listening to a spoof version of the twelve days of Christmas song I was reminded of the Manchester United supporter’s version with the, unimaginative, lyrics involving Eric Cantona. You know the one. Similar to their Ryan Giggs song with the only variation being “Five Cantonas!” This got me thinking of my time growing up near Manchester as a West Ham fan.

It was always a special treat when I could sneak in with the Hammers faithful at matches in the North West. Be it Citeh, Manyoo, Stoke (which was probably equidistant to Manchester), Liverpool or others the day was far more enjoyable when I was with ‘my own’.

As the old rumour went, that Manchester was blue, I had more Manchester City fans as mates than I did Manchester United. I was more familiar with Main Road than Old Stretford. The reason for that, however, went a little deeper than the fact that I know more blues than reds. Back in the ‘80’s, if you were in to your clobber as many of us were, you’d tend to be part of a youth movement of some description. I’m generalising here but, in the main, Manchester United fans were not know for the ‘football casual’ look. In fact they weren’t really known for any look at all and were considered, by City fans, as a bunch of scruffy, unfashionable lager louts. I was no fashionista by any stretch. Frankly I didn’t have the budget for it but City fans, at least, made an effort and I naturally felt more drawn to those who looked ‘cool’. I won’t talk too much about, what Eddie Izzard describes as, ‘the pursuit of cool’ as that’s another subject in it’s own right.

As well as the above I found the banter better at the Moss Side ground. The aforementioned ‘lyrics’ that were heard on the terraces of the Stretford End lacked any real creativity, imagination or originality. By contrast you’d often hear amusing songs created, quite often to the latest hits of the day, by the City faithful. The chants were different to the, hum drum, repetitive normal ones you’d hear across town. As I tend to be drawn to that which is a bit ‘different’ it was no surprise that I watched more football at Main Road. I must add that, If I’d have had the time, cash and was old enough, I’d have been on the train to Upton Park of course.

So I’d often go and watch my beloved Hammers heroes, with my City supporting mates, in the Kippax Road stand when I was unable to break the police cordon and get in with the away crew. On more than one occasion, outside the ground in the narrow streets and ‘snickets’ of the Moss Side, I found myself running from my own fans who had planned ambushes for home supporters. Thankfully for me I was quick enough not to have to explain that I was West Ham and would escape to catch the bus back to Piccadilly.

In my teenage years I’d often go out with mates and get on the beer. Didn’t always have to be beer, in fairness, as many spirits, wines and various other alcoholic drinks were mixed with the aim of getting plastered quickly. On one occasion I lost my inhibitions to the point of me deciding to run down Mill Street, Macclesfield, with my cousin singing ‘Bubbles’ at the top of my voice. Turned out to be another occasion where I had to outrun supporters who, on this occasion, were not West Ham. One older Manchester United fan, I remember, was particularly annoyed at the affrontery of hearing a Hammer in full voice in his own town. So much so he continued to chase us through the streets when his mates had given up until he ran out of breath. Saved by the athletic legs once again.

On one occasion in the mid ‘80’s I managed to sneak in to the West Ham end of the Kippax. The loudest sound that I’ve ever heard from a crowd at a football game was on that day. At the time one of our favourite songs was “We’re the Pride, We’re the Pride, We’re the Pride of London Town!” About half way through a rendition, seemingly from nowhere, there came an impromptu “City! City! City!” that made the three lads stood next to me and I practically jump out of our skins.

Of course much of the, West Ham related, conversations about football at my school were me having to take a ribbing for the numerous losses suffered at the hands of the Manchester and Merseyside clubs. The worst of those was following a six-nil drubbing at Anfield when, not just the Liverpool fans but, fans of all other clubs seemed to take great pleasure at rubbing my nose in it. Occasionally, however, I’d be the one with the bragging rights and, funnily enough, whichever club was on the end of the defeat at our hands would often get the mickey taken by supporters of all the other clubs. The old adage that West Ham were everyone’s second team, I found, had a little truth to it…even in the North West.

Have to admit it’s been fun sharing some of my, West Ham related, memories from my youth in Cheshire. I know I’m not entirely alone on this site in that regard with Stockport Hammer occasionally posting and, slightly further afield, Fallingegirl appearing on many threads. Apologies to any others I’ve left out. It would be great to hear your experiences supporting our proud club so I’ll keep a close eye on the comments this week.

The ladies, unfortunately, lost to the only goal of the game against Brighton this week. Elsewhere the U21s made it three from three group games in the EFL ‘Papa John’s’ Trophy with a 1-0 win at Pompey and the U23s had no fixture. No reviews this week as I’ve banged on far too long and am over the 1K word count. More reports in future threads.

Stay safe and well all.

COYI!

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