by James Montague
Bloomsbury, £16.99
Reviewed by Paul Rees
From WSC 368, October 2017
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Stories
In a golden age for domestic Dutch football, Feyenoord and Ajax often found the going tougher at home than they did in European competition. Ernst Bouwes looks back on the 1970-71 Eredivisie season
The long-term significance
This season the Dutch league was arguably the best in Europe if not the world, being host to the 1970 European Cup winners Feyenoord and the team who were about to succeed them, Ajax. PSV reached the semi-final of the Cup-Winners Cup and FC Twente the quarter-final of the Fairs Cup. Between 1969 and 1978 these four teams would play in eight European finals and win six.
Feyenoord's measures to control their fans failed to work in Nancy. Ernst Bouwes reports
What cruel irony. In 1974, fans of Tottenham Hotspur introduced major football violence to Holland during the second leg of the UEFA Cup final against Feyenoord. Thirty-three years later, Feyenoord find themselves banned for the rest of the European season for hooliganism at a UEFA Cup tie at Nancy while their scheduled opponents, Spurs, may receive a bye into the next round (Feyenoord still have a chance that the Court of Arbitration for Sport in Lausanne will overturn the verdict).
Hooliganism and obscene chanting have reached such a level in Holland that a recent Den Haag game against PSV waas abandoned, as Ernst Bouwes reports
I first met a Den Haag supporter in the flesh in 1983. They had been relegated from the top level and were playing my club, EVV Eindhoven. This rather small away fan came over to me and claimed that the hand in his pocket was holding a knife. No one would be hurt if I handed over my blue-and-white scarf. I declined. A stand-off followed, until my team came to the rescue. His side’s first goal made my assailant run to his mates to join in the celebrations. In the remaining hour there were another seven goals – celebrating an 8-0 win didn’t give Den Haag fans much time for hostilities.
Dear WSC
Surely the insouciant arrogance with which David Elleray slithers to cover up his mistakes cannot be unconnected with his day job? Who remembers a school teacher who ever admitted to getting something wrong? Of course, as a servant of the privileged classes, Elleray performs his role with a polished charm, his eyes glinting like a demented pterodactyl. But beyond this saurian resemblance, I can’t be the only person to notice that the penalty he gave against Sean Dyche, for obstruction outside the area, was a carbon copy of the dreadful decision he gave against Frank Sinclair when he came shoulder to shoulder outside the box with the dying swan of the Ukrainian ballet, Andrei Kanchelskis, in the 1994 Cup Final. It’s time this man was confined to the playing fields of Harrow.
Martin Humphrey, London SW4