Flying The Flag

Flying The Flag
I blame my Dad really. I always tell him that if I’d been born in either Kensington or Salford then I wouldn’t have to go through this trauma every season. But no, my Dad is from Smethwick, spitting distance from the Hawthorns. When I was growing up he told me stories of sneaking under turnstiles to collect beer bottles and getting the money back on them. He told me stories of Glory Days – Jeff Astle, Bomber Brown and Cup Finals, standing room only, European football and beating the Villa. He made it sound so romantic and I was hooked. From an early age, it was West Bromwich Albion all the way.

Fast forward forty years and Tony Pulis is in charge. No Cup Finals, no sell-out crowds, just Pulis-style football. If you’re a Stoke, West Brom or even Middlesboro’ fan, then this needs no explanation. If you’re not, then imagine parked buses, one up front and one shot on target in three home games – you get the picture.  We finished last season in March, when we reached forty points and forgot to tell the players that there were still nine games to go. The first three games this season set the tone, two scrappy 1-0 wins and then beating Accrington in the cup. This lulled us into a false sense of security though, as we didn’t win again for weeks. In fact Pulis wouldn’t win again. The football was dismal, and the crowds were already restless, with no sign of change any time soon. It was going to be a very long season and I hadn’t felt so detached from my club for a very long time.

Then I answered a random tweet from someone I didn’t know, and although I didn’t realise it at the time, my season was about to change – dramatically.

My love of football had never crossed paths with my sexuality; why would it? I was just a West Brom fan going to games very week, who also happened to be gay. The two things were completely independent of each other. The tweet was asking for LGBT+ West Brom fans, especially women, to get in touch and come and record a video about their experiences. I had no idea where it would lead but I went and did it anyway. I met two guys and we recorded a short piece each on the need for an LGBT+ supporters’ group and within days I was a co-founder of Proud Baggies, the club’s first ever official LGBT+ supporters’ group.

 The football club was amazingly supportive, offering meeting rooms, media support and plenty of encouragement. We set a launch date to coincide with Diversity Day at the club - 30^th September, Watford at home. The momentum was growing; we had a flag, t-shirts, a rapidly growing membership, and we would be pitch-side flag bearers on Diversity Day. Not only that, but our short film would be shown on the big screens before the game – there was no going back now.

On the pitch it was slightly different. We hadn’t won since Accrington in the cup and the West Ham goalless draw was one of the worst games I have ever seen at The Hawthorns. The football was dire and it didn’t improve much for the Watford game either. We went 2-0 up early in the first half and even though they pulled one back before half time, it looked a little more promising. That was until the 95^th minute when the inevitable equaliser was scored. Typical Pulis football – score early, get ten behind the ball and hope for the best. We were, at the same time, deflated & buoyant. The response to launch day had been fantastic; the t-shirts were in demand, people were stopping us in the stadium to ask how to get involved with Proud Baggies and overall it was a complete success. If only the same could be said for the football…. 

Our Pulis nightmare would last another five games, culminating in a miserable defeat at Huddersfield and a humiliation at home to Chelsea. I’m sure I speak for all fans when I say that you never want your team to lose, but with the Chelsea game it was a case of short-term pain for long-term gain. For the first time ever, I willed us to lose in the hope that they would sack Pulis, and my prayers were answered. It was like a weight had been lifted from the entire club. Next game – Spurs at Wembley and step forward King Gary (Megson). He is a god at West Brom, he who can do no wrong. He took us to the Promised Land for the first time in 2002-03, and although I’ve never seen it, I’m told he walks on water.

At the same time, Proud Baggies had introduced me to a world that I didn’t know existed, a network of LGBT+ supporters’ groups across the country, under the umbrella of Pride in Football. We’d been invited to Wembley by one of the biggest, Proud Lilywhites, Spurs’ official group. As Proud Baggies, it was probably the first time we’d all been together as a group as we met for lunch outside the stadium. A welcome addition to the group was my Dad and he turned up proudly wearing his t-shirt. He’s been our biggest supporter, has totally embraced what we’re doing and loves being a part of it.

And the football was encouraging too. We looked lively, fought for every ball, and even went forward deliberately. We took an early lead through Rondon and held on until the 86^th minute when Kane claimed his obligatory goal. We were gutted but what a performance under Megson; we’d held the form-team at Wembley. There was a renewed self-belief and even Livermore looked like a footballer. We went to the after-match drinks reception to celebrate the Rainbow Laces campaign and proudly posed with our flag pitch-side. It felt like it was all coming together; Proud Baggies was now an established supporters’ group and King Gary had us performing on the pitch. What could possibly go wrong….

On November 29^th Alan Pardew was appointed manager, an appointment met with complete disbelief from every West Brom fan I know. Sacked from his two previous roles with a 5%-win record, the board thought he was the man to take us forward and keep us up. It would be eight games later, home to Brighton on January 9^th, before we would win another league game, Pardew’s one and only league win as manager. The football had been destroyed again, there was no desire, no team spirit and no plan A, B or C. It was like watching Pulis football all over again. The crowds were at a season’s low and we were resigned to relegation by February. And all this as Proud Baggies was going from strength to strength. We had reached over 100 members, had launched our website, and had a growing presence on social media. We’d formed partnerships with local groups in the mental health sector, the local police and ambulance services, as well as joining forces with other Albion supporters’ groups such as Polish Baggies and Apna Albion. By the time Pardew was sacked in March, we were fully established as one of the biggest, most active LGBT+ supporters’ groups within the Pride in Football organisation.

As Darren Moore took over as caretaker manager for the rest of the season, all hope of staying up had gone. It was just a matter of time. Despite a gallant effort in the last six games, including a win at Old Trafford, relegation was confirmed on the penultimate day of the season.

It has been the strangest of seasons. The football has been awful and the situation at the club that we love has been chaotic and divided. The heart and soul were ripped out of the club by two failed managers who had no idea what it meant to us all, and the damage will take some repairing over the next few years. On the other hand, the football club has fully embraced Proud Baggies and we have almost become a fixture now. There is still a lot of work to be done but we are showing that football is for everyone and I’m loving watching games with other LGBT+ fans, week in, week out. I often say that there are two things in life that you cannot choose: your football team and your sexuality. At the start of the season I would never have thought that Proud Baggies could even exist, and little did I know that against a backdrop of the most dismal period in our recent history since the dark days of Bobby Gould, it would be the one shining light.