Losing touch

Something has changed at Millwall and the club no longer has an aura around it. Lance Bellers asks why

This season two unthinkable things happened. One, Millwall did not receive my season ticket application in time for the special discount rate; in fact, they never received an application from me at all. Two, on the morning of the last home fixture, I asked my wife if she fancied going shopping that afternoon. I did need to spend my Next vouchers, after all.

How could this be? Of course, demotion to the Second Division had a big part to play. Just how Jimmy Nicholl and co managed to snatch the last relegation spot on the final day of last season still baffles just about everybody in and around the club. But there is more to it than that. The Brave New World that was supposed to be the New Den has turned into the whitest of white elephants.

Sure, the old Den was ramshackle, inhospitable to visitors and covered in barbed wire, but it had more character in one turnstile than the whole of The New London Stadium put together. You could learn to love the old ground with its Cold Blow Lane, Halfway Line, Ilderton Road and ‘The Seats’. I defy anyone to fall in love with The East Stand, The West Stand, The South Stand and The North Stand.

What all this means is that watching Millwall play at home in 1996-97 has been a pretty hollow experience. Unless the team turn on a particularly scintillating display, what you are left with is very poor beer served at half-time, an away end so empty that Pavarotti could perform in the lower tier and the Notts County fans above would be none the wiser, and a ground so devoid of atmosphere that you might as well be watching the horse racing on the telly.

Of course, there have been plus points this season. The relay races at half-time have been terrifically exciting, especially when the final leg is run by fans of both teams so tiny that you can hardly see them. Millwall have chalked up one win in this tournament all season.

Then there has been the long-running soap opera that is Tony Dolby. Young Tony scored on his debut in a 6-1 victory by tapping the sixth over the line from six inches. Four years ago. This season Tony has come on in virtually every home game and clipped the bar, stumbled in front of open goals, forced keepers to pull off death-defying saves – you name it. Of course the longer this went on, the more entertaining it became for keen Dolby-watchers. So when, after 70-odd matches, the ball swung sweetly over to him from the wing against Wycombe, with only the simplest of headers to score, the home crowd held their breath. Tony kept his cool, aimed the header goalwards and in it went. If any Millwall fan could remember a more satisfying moment this season, I’d like to hear about it.

Having travelled to the likes of Peterborough, with their old-fashioned terraces and mobile ratburger canteen, it occurred to me that Millwall have probably suffered this season from being relative Big Boys in the division, the outfit from the capital with the modern stadium that away teams actually relish coming to. Visiting sides these days frequently take the game to the Lions, an experience that the hugely weakened Millwall squad find hard to cope with.

Visiting fans might prefer it, too. For a tenner they get a whole stand of their own, an excellent view of the action, and the much-improved security means the day is there to be enjoyed rather than feared.

When share dealings in the club were suspended towards the end of the campaign, the electronic scoreboard ceased to function, presumably to save a few bob. By the end, however, it was back in action (allowing it to display ‘Visitors 2’). A new investor has added some financial clout and will soon be asking fans to help out by buying yet more shares worth very little indeed. I expect that I’ll fork out again, but that old sense of involvement is fast slipping away. The pre-match pub is now just too far to be convenient, meaning either a half-hour spent in the ground sipping sub-standard ale or, more frequently, the last minute arrival followed by a hasty exit at the final whistle. Watching football at the New Den has become a bit like snatching fast food – and in the long term you know that’s not going to do you any good.

From WSC 124 June 1997. What was happening this month