On May 3 last year, I left Craven Cottage to the tune of “We are staying up”. This time, a completely different song echoed between the picturesque stands on the banks of the Thames. FFC Sweden went to London to pay tribute to the team that had done the impossible.
May 11, 2008. Fratton Park. Match minute 75. Danny Murphy reaches the top of Jimmy Bullard’s free kick and heads the only goal of the game past Jamie Ashdown. Roy Hodgson’s Great Escape was complet
“It must be one of my most important goals ever. A lot of Liverpool fans remember me for the goals against Manchester United but I’ll never forget this.”
Eight days earlier, FFC Sweden’s member trip had taken place. With strongly clenched faces, the visiting Swedes loaded up in the Golden Lions beer garden as usual. Doomsday scenarios were painted. Sebastian Larsson scores the only goal of the game, someone said jokingly while the others laughed lightly and looked down at the ground with anxious looks. Defeat and Fulham’s days in the Premier League were numbered. A win and the hope of an eighth straight season in the world’s best league would live.
Fulham won the game 2-0 after goals from Brian McBride and Erik Nevland. We are staying up sounded to the other side of Putney Bridge while the players, together with wives, children and girlfriends, thanked the home crowd for the season. The owner Mohamed Al Fayed waved happily with his scarf. Unaware that just over a year later he would be sitting in his director’s box watching Fulham fight for European football.
May 8, 2009. Myself, my father, brother and our bandy coach, as well as Chelsea supporter, Peter Isaksson takes the land at Heathrow. As tradition dictates, we had as usual harvested two cans of Carlsberg and two mini bottles of Johnnie Walker Red Label from British Airways’ free bar. On the way to passport control, Isaksson is stopped by a plainclothes British policeman. The following exchange of views follows:
Police: – Where do you come from?
Isaksson: – Sweden.
Police: “How long are you going to be here?”
Isaksson: – Three days.
Police: “Do you have a job?”
Isaksson: – Yes.
Police: “How are you going to have time to work here in three days?”
Isaksson: “I work in Sweden.
Police: “It’s clear. Thanks.
It turned out that the good Isaksson had been randomly picked in for a short interrogation. Something that, according to the police, is a new routine after the terror hysteria of recent years. After getting our tickets for the Tube, we left Heathrow’s terminal 5 for the ride to Fulham Broadway and the accommodation at the Chelsea Lodge Hotel. An accommodation that we have come to appreciate and made a permanent home for our football trips. The bags were dumped quickly and dry in the throat we walked at a brisk pace to another familiar place. The White Horse pub in Parsons Green.
At White Horse, the trip’s first, but far from the last, mistake was made. In the ambition to test new beer, London Lager was ordered. A beer that, after lively discussions, was rated: “Like a rejected 3.5 Crocodile”. Instead of keeping a good face and sweeping the contents, it was poured into the pub’s flower pots. It had to be Staropramen instead. After a while on the windy outdoor terrace, our the esteemed editor of this website Dan Crawford showed up. We had barely had time to say hello before he told us with a happy face that one of his friends earlier in the day had bought a Fulham shirt and printed “Iniesta, 93” on the back. He followed it up by praising Norwegian referee Tom Henning Øvrebø for his performance in the Champions League match between Chelsea and Barcelona two days earlier. Completely unaware that Isaksson was an inveterate Chelsea supporter. Isaksson magnificently chose not to reveal his team affiliation, but muttered bitterly: “Isn’t it better to accomplish something ourselves instead?”
Five pints later, hunger began to make itself felt and after a short stop in the almost empty Fulham shop, it was off to an Italian on Fulham High Street. Pizza was eaten, Italian beer was drunk and Dan continued his crusade against Chelsea. Satisfied, satisfied and much clearer in their heads, the idea of watching Sweden’s World Cup semi-final in hockey was put forward. The undersigned made a short call and was told that the Swedish pub Harcourt Arms at the Swedish church in Marylebone would show the match. After saying grazie to the pizza maker, who was eerily similar to Super Mario, we started walking towards the tube but soon realized that a visit to Fulham High Street is never complete without at least a beer at Golden Lion. Said and done we stepped into our former pub because I don’t know which time in the order. The owner Anne greeted us as usual but she did not look as cheerful as she usually does. Perhaps the neighbours’ complaints after our singing late into the night following November’s win over Tottenham have left their mark.
With the obligatory Golden Lion beer under our belt, we took the subway to Edgware Road for a short walk to the Swedish pub. However, it turned out relatively immediately that they would not show the hockey game. We thought it was strange when the pub was almost teeming with signs proudly pointing out that they were showing all the competitions in the Swedish Melodifestivalen. Instead of fixing our eyes on a TV screen, we instead sat down in the pub’s courtyard and started ordering, well, beer. Soon yours truly, my father, his brother, Isaksson and Dan were joined by Nick, his father Kenneth and Kristoffer. Ideas about going to a sports bar at Piccadilly that would possibly show hockey were put forward, but those thoughts were dismissed as soon as the obligatory chants began to be chanted. The bar staff soon asked us to turn the volume down!
A few beers later, Isaksson steps at a brisk pace past our table on the outdoor terrace. Under his arm, he has three yellow shirts with “Henrik, 17” on the back. Soon he invites the English to a quiz about Helsingborg’s attacking star. Correct answer and they are rewarded with a shirt. When the pub announced an hour later that it was time to close, we decided to return to the hotel for some much-needed sleep. The following day was not just any day. It was match day.
Shortly after eight o’clock, the alarm clock sounded at the Chelsea Lodge Hotel and ten minutes later breakfast was served in the hotel’s bar, with the better-sounding name Fulham Bar. Dad was quickly appointed as the scapegoat and after some rest in the room we joined him back to Edgware Road to pick up the bag. We thought. The pub didn’t open its doors until 12.30 and after the easy disappointed to have found that we had missed 40 minutes, and x number of beers in the meantime, a bottle of Becks was swiped at a nearby restaurant. With a moist throat and our spirits on the rise, we jumped on the subway again. This time to go to Putney Bridge and London’s finest quarter.
Golden Lion has in recent years been FFC Sweden’s regular pub before and after the games, but on the advice of Nick, and a number of English friends, the gathering before the game this year was moved to the other side of the Thames. At the slightly smaller, but at least as nice, pub Bricklayers Arms, we met not only our friend Mats, but also a gentleman who was more than 30 years older who was roaming around the outdoor terrace. The older gentleman, whose name I unfortunately forgot, turned out to be another Swedish Fulham supporter in attendance. At Bricklayers there were also a number of Aston Villa supporters who we hung out with in very nice forms before the game. Just over an hour before the start of the game, his father, Isaksson and Mats chose to leave Bricklayers for a walk towards Craven Cottage. They couldn’t imagine missing the warm-up and Al Fayed’s mandatory lap of honour before the match. The rest of us sat and left the pub just at the minute so that we could make it to kick-off.
The chants followed one another during the walk across Putney Bridge and through Bishops Park. At the stadium yours truly and my brother went to our seats at the Riverside Stand while Nick, Kenneth and Kristoffer sat down at Hammersmith End. The timing turned out to be so good that referee Mark Halsey blew the whistle for the game the second we set foot in the stands. And what a game then. Danny Murphy gave Fulham the lead on a penalty after six minutes after the man of the match, Diomansy Kamara, was brought down by James Milner. Villa equalised through Ashley Young eight minutes later, but after that it was Fulham for the money. Kamara scored two goals in the second half, one of which with a delicious heel, and Fulham could comfortably take home the three points.
Kamara’s first was a goal I didn’t see from the stands. After half-time buying beer under the stands, I took a seat at the railing facing the Thames. The view was admired and as the space was full of Fulham friends, I didn’t have a thought that the second half was approaching. That it had started, and that Kamara had scored, I only noticed when I heard the cheers from the stands. I quickly rushed to the screen that shows replays behind the stands, took part in the goal there and then quickly rushed up to my seat. Once there, We’re all going on a European tour began to be sung by the 25,660 on site in the packed arena. A strong, and welcome, contrast to last year’s We are staying up. Another ingenious rhyme that was happily sung was There’s only one Iniesta. A chant Chelsea supporter Isaksson found suitably entertaining.
During the match, Roy Hodgson also had time to be celebrated with a standing ovation. Hogdson chose to thank for the gesture by waving to the fans. When Mark Halsey, unforgiven from those decisions against Arsenal all those years ago, blew the final whistle, Hogdson’s side had taken a huge step towards European qualification. FFC Sweden went to The Cottage to celebrate the victory in a big way before paying a visit to the Bricklayers. At midnight, a long day had taken its toll and the bed at Chelsea Lodge Hotel was taken for a couple of hours of sleep before going home.
On Sunday, Fulham will end the season with a game at home against Everton. A point and play in the Europa League is assured. A performance that is more than any Fulham supporter dared to believe in before the season. To go from being a relegation candidate before the last round to being able to secure games in Europe all on your own is nothing short of fantastic. It becomes even more amazing when you look at how much money the clubs under Fulham have spent on player purchases during the season. Hodgson has built a solid team with small funds. Players like Brede Hangeland and Mark Schwarzer have been among the Premier League’s absolute best in their positions. John Pantsil and Dickson Etuhu have gone from being rejected at their former clubs to acclaimed and given starters at Fulham. And Hodgson made perhaps his smartest move ever when he sold an injury-prone 30-year-old to Hull for £5 million. Manager of the year, anyone?
Regardless of how things go on Sunday, Fulham have already secured their highest position in the Premier League ever. But of course it would be fun to go on a European adventure. See you at Rome’s Olympic Stadium in the autumn. Or why not at Gamla Ullevi in Gothenburg?
