9 May 1987 will always be etched in my memory. It was the final day of the season, the first season I had been a regular at the Boleyn Ground. 14 years old, full of awe, belief and with the first feelings of disappointment, as we failed to capitalise on the previous season's third-place finish.
It had been a weird season. Euphoria was high, we started with some superb results, before inertia, squad frailties and loss of form came home to roost. Disappointment was the in the air. We limped through, finally finishing 15th.Our visitors on that final day? Manchester City, needing a win to retain their top flight status. Goals from Tony Cottee and Liam Brady consigning them to a 2-0 defeat and relegation. As the final whistle blew, West Ham fans flooded the pitch. This was the 1980s, two years post-Heysel, one year on from when Luton was trashed by Millwall.
Fearing the worst, police formed a barrier between us and the City fans gathered on the South Bank. But what ensued was completely different to the times. We applauded them, sang "you’ll be back". Scarves were swapped. Mutual respect was shown. And it’s not been forgotten by the older core of fans.
Two clubs with a lot of similarities. Working class fanbases. Grounds based in residential areas, where you had to have your wits about you. Both living in the shadow of more lauded neighbours. Both had past glories dwindling into the memory bank. Kindred souls, yet given the mood and culture of the game at the time it was a shock that the day ended in positivity rather than violence.
As the seasons ensued, both clubs lurched from one period of turmoil to another. City yo-yo’d between the two top divisions, famously plummeting into the third tier at one stage, rescued over a late rally and penalty shootout win. Big name bosses came in. Big name players signed. But all that happened was a lurch from frustration to despair and back again.
We notoriously fared no better. Relegations, promotions, financial mismanagement. Cusp of glory to self destruction. A bizarre game of footballing top trumps in how to implode the order of the day.
But the similarities didn’t end there. We both left our spiritual homes to move into stadiums built for athletics, in amongst neglected areas of their respective cities, and also underwent a change of ownership in the period between August 2008 and January 2010.
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is where the similarities came to a largely abrupt end.
Built for the 2002 Commonwealth games, the City of Manchester stadium was built with Sport England not wanting a white elephant to be left as a legacy. Plans were successfully implemented to convert it to a football stadium with a 48,000 capacity. City moved in for the start of the 2003/04 season.
Despite the London Olympics being touted as the greenest games ever at the time, its focal point - the stadium - was built as a largely temporary structure with no real plans for conversion. The well-documented process of stadium transformation, migration, broken dreams and promises really doesn’t need raking over.
City’s new ownership were cash-laden Saudis. Early signings were Kompany, Robinho, De Jong and Bellamy. Our new owners were Sullivan & Gold, laden with 1970’s morals, 1950’s wardrobes and a fur coat, no knickers mentality. Our early signings were McCarthy, Mido and Ilan.
Meanwhile City evolved, progressed and grew. The stadium was enlarged, improved. New training facilities created. The previous site of Bradford Colliery is now home to a sprawling football city, a venue that’s hosted European finals and is a home fit for the Guardiola-created monster that’s dominated the Premier League for the best part of the last decade.
We’ve seen our home get routinely dismantled, put together, leaks, sub zero temperatures on concourses. But at least we’ve hosted some Monster Trucks. Our training facilities, a largely tarted up collection of ramshackle buildings formerly home to Ford United and Goresbrook Cricket Club.
If there are fans of the Marvel Cinematic Universive out there, rest assured there’s a time variant out there where we’re destroying teams with panache every week, Haaland wearing claret and blue scoring fun, and not getting frostbite having a post game beer in September.
This may be coming across a bit harsh. Credit where it’s due that under Sullivan’s stewardship, we’re how dining at least at the Zizzi’s of Premier League football, not at Chickem Cottage as before. We have won a long-awaited trophy. Were developed a promising squad. Hell, we’re even wearing a great kit this season.
The early days of the Lopetegui regime have seen positives. High pressing, ball playing, bravery. New acquisitions have looked to have purpose, ability and style. Max Kilman in particular looks like the centre half we’ve been crying out for. Strong, intelligent and comfortable on the ball. Aaron Wan-Bissaka is a steal, if he had a left leg he’d be world class. Our squad is finally seeing depth and genuine competition.
You can see the evolution with every game. There’s still issues. Susceptibility from balls over the top behind our defensive line, a rigidity in the areas Kudus and Bowen are allowed to operate in. It’s taking shape, but with an influx of new personnel and coaching teams it’s going to take time.
We’re perhaps victims of the fixture list. Villa and Manchester City are two extremely tough opening games, given their credentials last season. But Pep’s outfit in particular is a game you don’t want in the embryonic stages of a campaign.
Their movement, tactical fluidity, exploitative nature and technical astuteness are beyond belief at times. They won the league without a recognised number nine a couple of years ago. Noe they have Erlimg Haaland. A lab grown monster of a modern day striker. The stars speak for themselves; nine hat-tricks for the Citizens already in fewer than 200 games than anyone before him. 97 goals in 102 games! He’s a goalscoring freak.
Saturday's game. Well, three finishes of pure quality. Putting the magic dust on a team who really are exceptional. But we did test City, so much so that in the second half we had them somewhat rattled. The way we approached the game was encouraging. That we rallied in the second period. Trying to play in a style fans have been long crying out for.
Yesterday was something to take heart from. Who knows, the time variant may resign or skew off to provide us with everything we’re missing. You know. A proper football stadium, a right to peacefully protest against key matters without retribution, a board that cares and doesn’t want to prevent the club from having future generations of fans. And a team to delight us.
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