I Hate You So Much Right Now.

Not all the worst football decisions are refereeing ones. Just ask supporters of Wimbledon FC…

In 2002, Football League rules stated: “The location of the ground, in its relation to the conurbation…from which the club takes its name or with which it is otherwise traditionally associated, must meet with the approval of the board.”

Only the most semantic of semantics could argue that this allowed a South-West London suburban football club to up sticks and move to Milton Keynes. Yet Milton Keynes Dons exist.

Faced with this, ‘real’ Wimbledon fans didn’t shrug their shoulders and drift off to Brentford (nor, bar a handful, to Milton Keynes). Denied a club by the authorities, they formed their own.

An awesome undertaking. In terms of sheer hard work, almost beyond comprehension (for the best concise summary, read David Conn’s excellent ‘The Beautiful Game?’). And, subsequently, a success on and off the pitch. A supporter-owned, democratically-run club, challenging for their third promotion in five seasons. Justice served on a number of levels.

So why are AFC Wimbledon so hated?

Part of it is down to the disfiguring envy which all successful teams attract. “Too big for their boots” is the accusation. To which the then Wimbledon chairman, Kris Stewart, had a pertinent response: “Well, yes. We’re a potential League Two side in Ryman League boots” (some of this drooling hatred is a throwback to old non-league success in the Isthmian and Southern Leagues).

The charge of arrogance is frequently levied. Not without truth. But after two quick and convincing promotions in front of the sort of matchday crowds their opponents would regard as a good average for the SEASON, who wouldn’t be overwhelmingly self-confident? Not a rhetorical question, BTW.

Others blame Wimbledon fans for their own plight, reasoning that their problems could have been avoided if they’d turned up in sufficient numbers during their rise to English football’s top flight. Again, not without truth.

But AFC Wimbledon are supported and run by those who DID show up through thick and thin and willingly dropped from watching Premiership to County League football in two years. How that criticism can be levelled at them is not made clear. Surely Sam Hammam, Charles Koppel et al were more influential?

But even a supportive journalist like Conn had to acknowledge a ‘jarring note’ in the story. One that critics interpret as Wimbledon turning into exactly what they were formed to oppose, within a year of that formation.

That, having endured years of Selhurst Park exile and been treated as second-class citizens there, they have set up shop in exile and left another football club as second-class citizens. Worse, as second-class citizens in their own home.

Wimbledon played at Kingstonian’s (Ks) Kingsmeadow ground in their first season. Ks were in a prone position, fresh out of administration and run by an asset-stripping chairman with no football interest.

Wimbledon took advantage, paying silly money to buy the lease to the council-owned ground – which required ‘senior football’ at the ground but didn’t specify a club – even borrowing money from Ks chairman to fund the purchase. Wimbledon remembered how they felt at Selhurst. And made Ks feel the same way.

Initially, many Ks fans appreciated the realpolitik of the situation (Conn described Ks fans as ‘full of admiration’ which overstated it a bit), viewing Wimbledon as the lesser of the available evils – Ron Noades lurked in the background, never a sentence to inspire confidence.

But Ks fans have grown ever more resentful, as ‘their’ ground turned increasing shades of blue and yellow (Wimbledon’s colours), as Wimbledon reneged on agreements not to canvas for support in Kingston borough, as rumours continued about Wimbledon’s less than honourable stance in negotiating Ks way out of leaseholder status and, crucially I suspect, as Wimbledon leapfrogged Ks in the Ryman League.

Now, Wimbledon were ‘Franchise 2’, a sequel to the hated MK Dons (a criticism laid by some Arsenal fans blissfully or deliberately ignorant of their own club’s history). They were ‘squatters’ or ‘groundstealers.’ MK were getting unexpected suburban London support for their consecutive but vain relegation battles.

And earlier this season, Wimbledon were deducted eighteen points for an administrative error, people cheering as Wimbledon turned overnight from promotion contenders to mid-table mediocrities.

This was hypocrisy. Last April, Altrincham were deducted eighteen points for the same admin error, fielding a player without international clearance. The punishment, in rule, being deduction of all points gained with the ineligible player on the pitch.

Alty’s punishment was regarded as draconian, not least because it relegated them. Campaigns against it garnered support from fans everywhere (Wimbledon fans, as per, high among them), before Alty were saved by misfortunes which relegated two other clubs. Wimbledon’s campaign garnered resentment.

A top lawyer offered representation for no fee. ‘Nice to have friends in high places’ muttered the cynics. Questions were asked in the House, an ‘Early Day Motion’ (EDM) provoking a brief supportive comment from Blair. ‘Why are Wimbledon wasting parliamentary time which could be better used to save the NHS?’ they asked, ‘forgetting’ that EDMs use minimal parliamentary time, allowing Blair to respond AND save the NHS (well…).

And, amazingly, the Ryman League were accused of complicity, even though they’d enforced their own rules and it was overwhelmingly in their financial interests and those of member clubs to keep Wimbledon’s huge support paying at Ryman turnstiles.

‘Cheats’ they cried, even though both League and FA had acknowledged that Wimbledon had not been duplicitous – libel lawyers might have taken note, had such accusations come from anyone important.

Wimbledon’s campaign saw their punishment reduced to three points. ‘Well done’ people would have said had Alty achieved that. ‘Boo!’ cried those people on hearing Wimbledon’s news.

Wimbledon, apparently, are no longer the story that David Conn and football’s intelligentsia would recognise. Resented, pilloried, downright hated, where once they were admired, vaunted and (in FC United of Manchester’s case) downright copied.

All very strange. But sadly a reflection of the real world. Which football so often is.

‘MotorMurph’ is written by Mark Murphy

Entry Filed under: MotorMurph Column

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