The Rough Rough Guide to Millwall

The Rough Rough Guide to Millwall

From our South Bermondsey Correspondent

We Are Millwall, Super Millwall, No-One Likes Us, We Don't Care!

I've been in London for 18 years, and never been all that interested in English football. I always told people that my favourite English team was Berwick Rangers. Everyone's early years in London involve a lot of moving around, trying to find a place you can stand living in for more than 3 weeks, so I watched Leyton Orient, saw Iain 'Bayern' Ferguson on loan to Charlton Athletic (while they were sharing Crystal Palace's ground), saw Wimbledon at Plough Lane, and in 1987 stood on the crumbling terraces of Stamford Bridge where a man with a radio informed me that Hearts had gone 2-0 up on Celtic at Parkhead with ten minutes left. On my way back to the pub we stopped outside a television shop and looked at the League table on BBC, which seemed to suggest the BBC hadn't done their sums. Only later did the obvious truth dawn on me, and for those who were traumatised by Celtic's comeback a couple of months ago, let me tell you some of us have seen it all before.

But when Hibernian (and their fans) visited South London in 1989, it was my first time at The Den, a ground that made Airdrie's old Broomfield look like the Milton Keynes Hockey Stadium, approached via a number of embankments and railway cuttings, some of which were cul-de-sacs and blind alleys where rival supporters were driven and shown the error of their ways by the infamous Millwall Bushwhackers. At the time, some may recall, Hibernian had a section of their support which were up for it, though their self-promotion suggested they were just showing off rather than the attitude of the real hard nuts of Bermondsey and New Cross: No-One Likes Us, We Don't Care. It was Millwall who famously tore into Luton Town's loathsome plastic pitch and seats put in place by their Chairman and Mrs Thatcher toady David Evans.

The game between Millwall and Hibs was a more tepid affair, enlivened only by the marking job done by Terry Hurlock on Paul Kane - or Paul Kane's shin, more accurately - and finished 1-1, but Millwall dislike of Hibs fans (who smashed up a quiet pub and claimed a huge tactical victory) stems from then and that day I knew where my London sympathies lay. It also helped that I had grown up with football cards of all the early 1970s Millwall greats with wonderful names - Harry Cripps, Barry Kitchener, Keith Weller - and anyone who has read Eamon Dunphy's 'Only A Game?' will have gained a sense of what professional football at the lower end of the spectrum is like. To clinch it, London Hearts went to the 24th floor of the Canary Wharf Tower in 1994 to appear on Janet Street-Porter's cable channel L!ve TV (of topless darts fame, sports fans may recall) in a dreadful football supporters' quiz, where the round of questions was punctuated by videos of girls in leotards doing physical jerks, and their performance would add points to each team's tally. (I'm making NONE of this up.) We did catch sight of the News Bunny as well as Rusty Gough, the dwarf who jumped up and down on a trampoline to present the weather forecast (Inverness was a real problem for him) but not the rather beautiful young lady who shared weather-forecasting duties with the dwarf (not a phrase you'll hear often) dressed in nothing but a bikini. The catch, of course, was that she spoke entirely in Norwegian throughout, except at the very end when she would tell us in English what the weather was like in her home town, Bergen. L!VE TV had decided that sponsoring Millwall was the obvious way to advertise, and I still have (and wore at the Cup Final) my Millwall top bearing the legend: "L!VE TV - The Weather in Norwegian". Well, it makes a change from Captain Morgan's Spiced Rum, who took over after L!VE TV went down the plughole.

By that time The Den had been sold for housing development (heard that one before? Or since? And quite recently?) but the new stadium, although rather new and soul-less was less than 800 yards away (and there the resemblance ends. ) and if not exactly home from home (think St Johnstone) we've had some memorable evenings.

After a brief foray in the top division, Millwall have settled for mid-table mediocrity by settling for managerial mediocrity. If watching teams under Mick McCarthy was hard to bear, the torn-faced weasel himself Mark McGhee took over and moulded the team in his own image. I didn't care about other people not liking us, but even I was finding it hard to like Millwall under McGhee and gave thanks to Buddha when he did what he's best at and left. The appointment of Dennis Wise and Ray Wilkins (don't spit - his time at Hibs afforded us all a good laugh, we owe him) has proved a superb choice, and although Wisey hasn't lost his, uh, edge, it is Wilkins who has imposed discipline and skill on the young players. This season obviously will live long in the memory - not just because of the Cup Final, but taking West Ham apart by 4 goals to 1 was a special moment (commemorative video available) but an already small squad was depleted by injury and suspension on the run-in for the play-offs, and there was no Plan B to switch to for the FA Cup Final. Thankfully we lost it on our terms, getting the whines of the purists who wanted us to 'give it a go' - what, and get stuffed six-nil? No thanks! It was fun watching a below-par United try and get it together, and it would have been even more fun had we not conceded the opener on the stroke of half-time. But as one famous Millwall fan said, for us it was just a distant war in a foreign country - not really anything we as Millwall fans should be concerned about. Millwall had won their Cup Final against Sunderland in the semi at Old Trafford (and to be honest, United had won theirs in the semi against Arsenal). I can't claim to be a real Millwall fan, though, as I didn't really care about West Ham's fatal sinking at the play-off finals a week later. (You can tell a real fan not by who they support, but by who they detest.)

So European football beckons. Let's hope it's Galataseray.

In the meantime, Hearts play Millwall in Vancouver. I fancy Hearts might have more firepower up front unless the mighty Neil Harris gets better service; Darren Ward and Lawrence are as good a partnership as Pressley and Webster, and Andy Marshall the goalie has had a superb few months. Elliot the young right-full back is one for the future, and if Tim Cahill's still with us then he's the danger man, coming in late from midfield to score goals. I hope Kevin Muscat isn't playing, simply because he's likely to break Joe Hamill's legs if he gets a chance. Goodness knows why Rangers let him go. It's a good young side at Millwall, with a great youth set-up; and they get just about the same crowds as Hearts do. I've never bothered to remind any Lions that Millwall are actually a Scottish club, started by dockers on the Isle of Dogs (Millwall as a place is three miles away on the other side of the river, so don't ask the cabby to take you to Millwall if you want to go the The Den) but they're a team close to my heart. If both teams play their best, Hearts should edge it, but since both teams can be guaranteed NOT to play their best, I'm looking forward to an interesting game.