View from the outside – Column Wednesday, 26th Mar 2025 18:57 by Dorse As we creak out of the international break and gear up for the final eight games down the home straight after another long losing run, message board regular Dorse is in surprisingly upbeat mood… There used to be a TV advert for Werther’s Original that featured an old gentleman, sitting in what appeared to be a heavenly light, with the Elysian Fields behind him as he reminisced about ‘the first sweets given to me by my Grandfather. They were Werther’s Original, and I was four…’ He extolled the virtues of the shiny wrappers and delicious butter candy as though they were sacramental offerings giving humanity a glimpse of the divine, rather than something that an increasingly baffled old fella clearly palmed off on him in lieu of an inheritance. He finished off with ‘Well, now I’m the grandfather…’ as he hands over the sweets to an obviously disappointed kid as his eyes roll back and the lads from Dignitas stuff him in the van. Feels like that being a QPR fan at times. Although, instead of a beatific old gentleman in a knitted cardigan, we’re more like Grandpa Simpson, regaling the family with tales of tying an onion to his belt, as was the style at the time. ‘I remember when we had Les Ferdinand. Oh, the sun always shone and, once, I even had a Pukka Pie that wasn’t the temperature of molten glass…! We never lost and Chelsea were absolute shite. Oh those days…!’ Sure, Grandpa. And no doubt you had hair, a six pack and were known as ‘Plunger’. Sit back down and eat your strained pears. So, how is this relevant? I’m not entirely sure it is. However, I know how I used to feel about the Rs back in whatever ‘day’ we’re discussing. It felt, well, ‘good’. Often being a QPR fan is like being in some nightmarish gameshow, wherein members of the public have to shave a glue-sniffing 400lb silverback gorilla or play rounders with grenades. Football should be a pleasure, not a reason for extended therapy. Over the years, we’ve gone through periods that felt ‘good’. When Gerry Francis made us a top five side, or when we put Man Utd to the sword on live TV. That was pretty good. To be honest, I found my most joy as a QPR fan back when we were in the third tier under Ollie. That first season in Division 2 (‘I remember when League One was Division 2…’ Shut it Grandpa, or I’ll take your teeth away) we were, frankly abysmal for the first half of the season: Matt Rose at right wing? Nuff said. But strangely it felt like everything mattered. The fans and the club were all pulling in the same direction. We started to see the club in the raw – everything was open and Ollie, in particular, seemed to understand the need to bring us all along. The next season saw the beginning of the recovery. Thomson, Gallen and Furlong. Big Dan and Clarke. Bircham and Rowly. Gareth Aerosmith (dude looks like a lady). The guts of a QPR team that would get to the play-off final and, eventually, promoted by right. I don’t know why this period of QPR’s storied history felt so good – it just did. We were a poor team, in a poor league, playing other poor teams but we had such a spirit and togetherness that we became a nightmare to play against and a pleasure to support. Promotion wasn’t as much fun and, by the time we became a ‘boutique club’ under Tango and Cash, the joy had been pretty much rinsed out. Lest we forget that, in getting to that stage, this team featured players like Gavin Mahon, Adam Bolder, Zesh Rehman, Bob Malcolm, Danny Cullip, et al. We even managed to cause an international incident when we got into a ruck with the Chinese national team. I like to think that the Chinese Communist Party has been waging a secret war against us since then: it’s the only explanation for some of the stuff we’ve had to deal with. The reason I mention all this is because recently the QPR Experience (difficult third album) has felt, well, ‘good’ again. Wait! Before you light the beacons and call Gondor for aid, hear me out. I didn’t say we were good because we’re not. Far from it, at times, but there seems to be a change in the air. Whether it’s simply the change from being repeatedly kicked in the nuts to only being punched in the stomach remains to be seen but there are some elements of watching the R’s in recent times that give me hope. Stop laughing at the back. It’s your own time you’re wasting. Here’s where I’m coming from. After Warburton left, we had a reasonably good side with the potential to improve and, for a while, we did. However, whatever good feeling there was around the club kept being blown away whenever Mick Beale started fanning his arse towards whichever prospective employer was impressed with him that week. Most of us were pretty nonplussed with this even before the whole ‘Loyalty’ banner made us look like contenders for the Most Deluded Bell-Ends Of The Month award (and we didn’t even win that as Leeds kept up their record of 724 consecutive months and counting). The less said about Critchley’s tenure the better but the feeling around the club did not improve and results were, frankly, appalling. Under Gaz, we stood a chance of getting some of our old ‘spark’ back but, at that point, he was never going to be the right choice for us. I’ve described his time here as a holiday romance: we live we learn. Okay, so far, so bleak but my point is this: does it not feel better around the club now? We can, and do, moan about league positions and win ratios and something called xG (no, me neither) but those are statistics, empirical measurements. I’m talking about how it feels, the QPR ‘zeitgeist’, as opposed to ‘shite-geist’ of the past: it’s an intangible quality. We moaned under Warnock and Ollie, but the feeling around the club was still good! Marti doesn’t get everything right – no team ends up 5 points adrift at the bottom of the table if everything’s going well – but the fans backed him. Look at the away following over the last couple of years: it’s raucous and we take good numbers; we’re selling-out HQ, even when we were in free fall. The fans understand who we are and turn up to take their part every week – the players and management clearly appreciate it and take the time to show they don’t take it for granted. Could things be better? Absolutely. We can always find something to moan about, from the financials through to the water pressure in the Ellerslie Road bogs. Communication from the club (‘Don’t tell him, Pike!’) is iffy and, with no Fan’s Forum on the horizon, it doesn’t look like improving soon. The beer, if that isn’t stretching the term, is eye-wateringly expensive and the seats have leg-room that has been outlawed by the Geneva Convention. Our strikers don’t score, our defence is all out of contract and the floodlights have been redesignated ‘mood lighting’. If that isn’t enough, the third kit is the colour of dehydrated urine and we never win whilst wearing it. Yes. I went there. But, for some reason it still feels, you know, ‘good’. And maybe this is my point. When Grandpa Simpson starts banging on about the good old days, we all know they weren’t really that good. But look how they made him feel. I get the idea that, some day, there will be people telling uninterested kids about how great QPR were back when Marti was in charge. Oh they were magnificent you know? Proper haircuts and we used to sing a song about Marti drinking Estrella, which was a beer at the time… Go on. Have a Werther’s. More by this author >>> You and the head of the cod If you enjoy LoftforWords, please consider supporting the site through a subscription to our Patreon or tip us via our PayPal account loftforwords@yahoo.co.uk. Pictures - Ian Randall Photography Please report offensive, libellous or inappropriate posts by using the links provided.
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