On Saturday, I went to watch West Ham take on Watford at Vicarage Road.
Because our away ticket allocation was small and I left it late to book, my only option was to borrow a season ticket in the home end from a friend of a friend.
It was the first time in 10 years that I’d sat amongst opposition fans for a West Ham game, and while my last experience hadn’t been terrible, I was still sceptical.
And as I’d feared, it turned out to be one of my most frustrating afternoons ever.
Now, Watford is one of the more welcoming clubs when it comes to away fans in the Premier League, with pubs around the ground not checking for tickets and chants never going beyond gentle mockery into outright aggression.
Regardless, hiding my allegiances wasn’t too much of a challenge for the most part. It’s easy enough to clap at the same time as the home crowd – just tell yourself you’re applauding the shot when they’re cheering the save, and vice versa.
There were a few moments where I had to stop myself, though. As a season-ticket holder at Upton Park my natural instinct is to rise to my feet whenever we launch an attack, and the hyper-awareness that forced me to stop doing this was just as frustrating as the two Watford goals.
That’s not to say the goals weren’t a struggle too.
There are only a couple of things worse in football than seeing your team concede: seeing them concede in contentious circumstances, or seeing them concede following an individual error.
Anyone who’s watched highlights of this weekend’s action will know that the latter was responsible for Watford’s opener.
Andy Carroll – the maverick he is – decided a Cruyff turn out of space and into an opponent while stood on his goal-line was a sesnsible idea. He’s unlearned Big Sam’s percentage football pretty quickly, it seems.
There’s something painful about the Nelson Muntz-style mockery aimed at Carroll and West Ham, of course, but I’d imagine my friends in the away end were equally critical.
What was somehow worse was the Watford fans’ lack of respect for a couple of West Ham traditions.
The Hornets’ song for Odion Ighalo – to the tune of Spandau Ballet’s ‘Gold’ – is forever associated with Joe(y) and Carlton Cole in my mind, and the Nigerian’s two goals meant I heard quite a bit of the newer version.
It sounds pathetic (probably because it is), but I even found myself covering my mouth and whispering ‘Carlton Cole’ a couple of times after the 15th or 16th cry of “Always believe iiiin…”
https://twitter.com/Allan22_WHU/status/660481454183473152
That wasn’t even the nadir, though. That came from the lads sat next to me, agreeing after the lineups were announced that Ben Watson is “definitely better than [Valon] Behrami”.
Before the game I was looking forward to at least seeing Behrami and Alessandro Diamanti, two cult heroes at Upton Park, and I even enthusiastically cheered the Swiss midfielder when he came on late in the game (Diamanti didn’t leave the bench).
But for them to dismiss West Ham legends so readily – and for Ben Watson of all people – was more unforgivable than the result, more unforgivable than the red card James Collins received late on, even more unforgivable than the Ighalo chant.
It wasn’t as bad as the flags though. Oh god, the flags.
Will I be doing this again the next time I miss out on an away ticket? I’ll take a lot of convincing, that’s for sure.
