Walking amongst giants - the F.A. Cup

Giant Killing – the beauty of the F.A. Cup

There is always a game or two for the Colts they have to win to grab that superior record going into the playoffs. Or maybe a win on the road against Brady & Co to give them home field advantage later on. This season didn’t work out that way.

Not so in the F.A. Cup. England’s oldest soccer competition literally throws each team in the hat and ‘lady luck’ prevails. Today, semi-professional team Crawley Town, spitting distance from London Gatwick, have been drawn away at Old Trafford, v Manchester United, in the 5^th round of the competition. Manchester are the giants – Crawley the killers, David v Goliath.

Google ‘giant killers’ and ‘FA Cup’ and you’ll see what I mean (sorry Leeds fans). It doesn’t always work out, but once in a blue moon a small insignificant barnacle of a town makes it big. It goes something like this, and if you work for the F.A. please do not post a smug comment correcting me. This is my reality:

In the fall a bunch of crap, non-league teams enter the preliminary rounds of the F.A. Cup. It’s somewhat regional at this point but still random. All the names in a black velvet bag etc. First name out home, second name out, the travelling opponent. The first round proper includes the lower two divisions of the four professional leagues. At this point you still have a handful of ‘non-league’ teams in the mix. With nothing to lose they are a dangerous animal (a quote from an educational psychologist when describing the kind of kid you don’t want to deal with in schools).

The third round is the real deal. Now you have the top two leagues included. So, the only advantage of being successful is you avoid the hat until round 3. The sixth round is the last 8, seventh the ‘final four’ and the final, played at Wembley is the jewel in the English soccer season’s crown. The F.A. even pulls out the old retired fogies to make the draw on TV. Little black balls with numbers…it goes something like this:

‘Welcome to the fourth round draw for the F.A. Cup. Home teams will be drawn by ‘Billy Blah Blah’ (former Spurs and England player who drank his way to glory in the 60’s) and the away teams will be drawn by ‘Reggie Whose-ya-father’ (twin brother of a more successful man whose only brotherly advantage is having avoided baldness).

So, the balls come out. Numbers are read out and annoyingly there seems to be no direct correlation between the order and the first letter of each team.

“Number 5 – Sheffield Utd, will play….number 23, Grimsby Town.” This, however, to the well travelled Brit translates as……

Number 5 – failed northern steel town with dour locals and two poor teams against number 23, dross east coast fishing town which redefines the meaning of wet, cold and smelling of cod.

Not surprisingly, the only people at the game are from the two towns playing. Grimsby fans will wave inflatable cod while Sheffield fans will wave inflatable orangutans. No, even I can’t explain that one.  

 TV coverage in the lower rounds is often targeted at potential upsets. Here is the scenario: really big club, yet actually smaller than their fans believe (i.e. Newcastle United), while enduring some kind of coaching / player / legal nightmare draw, away, the small, never open on a Sunday kind of town, with a soccer team playing on a muddy old gaff not fit for goats. The minnows have to be owned by a couple of ex-cons, or ex-pros, or ex-pros who have spent some time behind bars. At least three of their players have psychological disorders, there is a three legged, blind ‘team’ dog and a really fat bloke on the terraces every week who screams abuse with a foghorn of a voice. At these places you are close enough to spit and hit away players. Kids wait behind the main stand, usually a tin pot shed made of asbestos or corrugated iron, waiting for the match ball to come over and subsequently nick it. The field is muddy, short, or has a tree on one side. The ref is local and, like the dog, blind.

I believe most Hammers fans will tell you we are always on the telly when playing away at such a team. That is because something is going wrong at the club most of the time. Apart, of course, from the Youth Academy, which quietly gets on their job. The last time we won the F.A. Cup was in 1980. West Ham beat Arsenal at the old Wembley Stadium.  I was there as a flag waving eleven year old hammer sat on his own up in the Arsenal end. The Hammers were Div 2 then, when the second division was called division 2. Now it is the Championship sponsored by the fourth mutation of some ineffective gas and electricity supplier. Note – whether the league is division 2, 4 or the Ace Hardware Blue Super Points League, whichever league Southend United is in is always crap.

I am aware, again, that I have strayed away from the original plan of the Fitzwimarc Story ‘part 2’. In some kind of peace offering – here is a pic of Steve & Gary around 1983 in Rayleigh High Street. We were allowed to do a little photography – wandered around the town with a little Practika and took snaps. The pics were developed, by us, back at school. Steve fished a beer can out of the dustbin for this one. We also caught Mr. Teasdale leaving the bank on the other side of the road. Real detectives we thought at the time. A strip joint would have been bigger news than the local bank…

 

Also, the news at this point looked like this.

Not Michael Sheen, but the real Brian Clough. Having a pop at Don Howe, which unless you are a diehard Gunner, is actually a pretty easy thing to do. Only Nigel Mansell has less imagination, I’ve heard it said.

Anyway, time to pull this together. Colts fans need the NFL to add two things to the program:

a)      random draw knockout competitions

b)      relegation and promotion in each conference

c)      let other teams from around the world play in the Playoffs or Superbowl winners cant call themselves ‘World Champions’. That would be an ‘open’ competition. The NFL is not.

This is the only way the little guys get a chance and stand shoulder to shoulder with the big boys. It keeps the fans real and every time the Richmond ‘Redbulls’ (hypothetical East Indiana based sub NFL team sponsored by popular night club mixer drink company) beat the Colts, we all walk home from Lucas Oil for a pint at the Slippery Noodle and lament about the beauty of the NFL. Well, that’s the excuse I use every time West Ham lose to Notts County etc…