No - We're the best team of all.
Everybody knows us,
We're called Millwall...."
Millwall Football Club - club song lyrics.
Ask any sports fan anywhere in the world and they'll agree- sport and culture cannot be separated, since they are one and the same. In Australia it is AFL and in New Zealand there's rugby. The US has baseball, basketball, hockey and the NFL. In India it's definitely cricket. And in England, there's no escaping the sport that both divides and unites people more than any other aspect of English culture - football.
Between August and May, come 3pm on any given Saturday, the country forgets most other things for the next 2 hours. All other concerns ranging from the weather, the economy and world affairs, to the broken toilet seat become distant issues. The only thing that matters is whether or not your team can gain another vital win - to advance towards the top of the table, or to escape the vile clutches of the bottom. It becomes the focus of conversation - who played well and who deserves to be dropped. How poor the referee was and which decision the manager got wrong. Everyone becomes an expert, reflecting on their team's performance and results during the working week; the time that can be described as the pointless void between one Saturday's football match and the next. In essence it becomes your life.
And so it was that I became engulfed in this inescapable football culture, as I joined my mates on our endless crusade in following our team from one end of the country to the next. One such journey was a 3 hour Friday night post-work drive to Bristol that, through heavy traffic and unexpected road works, took me 5 hours to complete. I arrived late, at half time, and in order to avoid the dreaded 'lock in' (visiting supporters are often not allowed to leave the stadium until well after the home fans, to avoid confrontations and violence. This occurred on a regular basis), I also left the game 5 minutes or so early. Adding on driving time back home to London, this equated to 8 hours of driving to watch 40 minutes of football. My friends are all life-long supporters and in the beginning, I was just happy to go along for the ride and enjoy the experience. It wasn't long, however, until the experience became an addiction, and as the Bristol game shows, I joined in as whole-heartedly as any local supporter ever has. The English culture and tradition that is football had taken over, and I loved every minute of it.
Our beloved team is the Millwall Football Club. 'The Lions', from Bermondsey, South london, have somewhat of a poor reputation. Or rather, elements of its supporters do. The club has long been associated with hooliganism, rioting and violence. From organised fighting (targeting rival supporters, both inside and outside of the stadium with planning down to the second for maximum carnage), to unprovoked and devastating destruction, (such as the Luton Town riots, where whole sections of the Luton Town FC grandstands were destroyed as seats were thrown onto the pitch, forcing the match to be abandoned), Millwall fans have often been labelled, perhaps justifiably, as thugs. That's not to say that the vast majority of us aren't 'normal', law abiding citizens. We are. Really.
Along with a good reputation, success on the pitch has also been elusive. An FA Cup final appearance in 2004 has been a recent highlight, with defeat inevitably coming at the hands of none other than Manchester United. To be better than 126 other clubs in reaching the final of the oldest knock out competition of its kind in the world was the great hope for us long suffering supporters that better times were ahead. Reaching such a high profile game seemed to be to the long term detriment of the club, however, as the age old struggle to keep quality players saw the likes of Tim Cahil and Lucas Neil leave for big-money Premier League clubs, who then sat up and took notice. Success had also been a struggle historically. Since the club was founded in 1888 it has played most if its matches in lower leagues. To their credit, this has never deterred the suporters, who have always been described as among the most loyal in all of English football.
I watched my team religiously during my years living in London and it had been nearly 3 years since I last saw them play live. That all changed this past Saturday when my friends got me a ticket to go to cross-town rivals Charlton Athletic. The proximity in terms of distance doesn't hide the differences in the culture of the respective teams. Millwall are the working-class 'people's team', from the docks of Central London, and like the people they reflect, they are battlers with a gritty never-say-die attitude. The team motto 'We Fear No Foe, Wherever We Go' captures the spirit of the club and it's supporters. The Lions are always involved in a struggle, whether it be the opposing team, the referee, the police or the newspapers. It's a constant fight for survival. Charlton on the other hand, are a middle class team but have fallen from grace. As recently as 2 seasons ago, they were mixing it on a weekly basis with the likes of Chelsea, Arsenal and Manchester United. A refurbished stadium and the financial rewards of the Premier League couldn't sustain them and after a decade in the top division, they stumbled and were relegated twice in succession. Things have changed however, and they are on the way up again. Indeed, they sit in second place, have only lost twice in 21 games this season and are unbeaten at home. This is compared to Millwall who sit in 8th and have only won once away. It doesn't take a football genius to see that, on paper, the odds are with Charlton. But games of football aren't played on paper, and Millwall never take notice of odds....
It was great to be back and felt just like it used to- the buzz of the crowd, the singing, the shouting and the abuse. Being 'up against it' as the underdog is where we found ourselves, where we always relish the challenge.
Kick-off, and it's a bright start. In fact, Millwall are on top and have most of the play in their attacking half, the end closest to us. Suddenly, the ball gets through the Chatlton defence and there's a shot on goal.....it's in!!! The crowd go ape droppings and the singing and bragging begins. It's an amazing start to have a goal so early in the game, but we all knew Charlton will come back hard.
So it was with more than a little surprise then, that we scored again a short while later- 2-0!!!! This was unbelievable. Millwall were playing so well and deserved to be in front.
The chanting on this occasion was short lived, for when the ball went down Charlton's end, one of their players were fouled and the referee gave them a penalty. They scored, but we still had a 2-1 lead. Now the chanting moved from cheering to jeering, the subject moved from the team to the referee. We called out a number of crass names ("The referee's a ******.....") reverberated around our grandstand, but things were about to get even uglier.
No sooner had the match restarted than the ball was back down Charlton's end again and, as if watching 'Groundhog Day', the referee called for another penalty! The Millwall fans were now calling for blood. To rub salt in, the infringing player was also shown a red card and was sent off. The Lions were now disadvantaged, having to play the second half of the match with a player less.
Some regrouping was required. Millwall needed to consolidate. They needed to protect the status quo of the match. The first minutes of the second half would be critical, to stop the Charlton momentum that threatened to turn an amazing start into an absolute nightmare.
The unthinkable happened less than 2 minutes into the second half, with another goal to Charlton. No arguments from our end this time, just a deathly silence as the 16000 Charlton supporters cheered at their team's third goal in succession. The wonderful, positive start barely an hour ago was a distant memory. It seemed we were watching a completely different team, almost as if the players had swapped uniforms, such was the turn around.
So where was this never say die Millwall attitude? Was it a thing of the past? Had it all changed over the past 3 years? The old Millwall I used to watch play would never capitulate. They wouldn't win every game, but they would go down fighting. Where was the team I used to support? Where were The Lions that I stood in the cold and the rain for, and the sleet and the ice? Even when I shivered and shook in the icy English wind, when my feet were frozen and I could no longer feel my toes, I always knew the discomfort I felt was worth it because of the performance my team displayed on that pitch in front of me. I would go away cold and wet, whether it be a win, loss or draw, and I would know the oposition team knew they had been in a match with Millwall, and that any points they left with they had bloody well earned. I began to think that maybe the Millwall of 2009 were a very different team.
The next quarter of an hour was an arm wrestle, with neither team allowing the other any clear chances. It seemed we were being worn down, with only 10 players on the pitch and a referee seemingly hell-bent on keeping us behind, there was no way back.
Enter the 'attitude'.
From nowhere, the Charlton defence was split open and the shot fired went into the back of the net. 3-3!!! We were back, baby! We were level and maybe, just maybe, we could even snatch another goal. With less than 10 minutes to play any further score would surely win it. It was with frustrating agony then, that we watched, seemingly in slow motion, the ball ricochet off our own Millwall player and into the Charlton goal! Charlton in front 4-3!
How could this happen? How could we lose like this? 2 penalties and an own goal. The biggest screw job I've ever seen. We were into added time now- no way back. Yet not one Millwall supporter left. We stay until the end. We stay together.
With the referee about to blow the whistle to signal the end of the game, there is one final flicker of life in the Millwall spirit, but we dare not get our hopes up. Somehow, down the far end, the Charlton defence is torn apart again, but the ball is kicked in from an impossible angle......Goal!!! 4-4!!! What an amazing goal to level the game. The Millwall spirit is proven to be alive and well and against all the odds, The Lions end the game level with Charlton, and us supporters leave singing and abusing the referee and opposition supporters with smiles on our faces.
I left the game tired and cold. I couldn't feel my toes and my throat was hoarse and dry. I had an awesome time on the Millwall rollercoaster- I just hope next time it's not so long between rides.
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