Yesterday, I listened to the Football Guardian Podcast, and disatisfied with the tribute to Billy Bonds I wrote them a letter. I cut and pasted "Coffee one Sugar's" post but I could have chosen many of the posts on this thread.
This is the email I sent to the Guardian.
Hi Max, Barney and Barry,
I’ve been a loyal listener to the podcast for years and continue to enjoy the work you and the team do. Keep it up.However, the brief note appended to the end of the West Ham - Liverpool match report, felt inadequate and, to be honest, borderline disrespectful.
A quick look at social media or YouTube shows the enormous and heartfelt outpouring of grief for a true club legend.I’d suggest sending a couple of your team to the next home game against Aston Villa to really understand what he meant to the club and its supporters.
As a keen listener, I’ve also noticed the growing disaffection among several contributors (Barney, Jonathan, Barry, for example) with the underlying business model of the modern game: the match-day entertainment packages, the transactional focus, surge pricing, gambling sponsors, irrelevant cups and competitions, corrupt organizations, human-rights-abuse sportswashing, and the media’s obsession with personalities and trivia.
Never has the gap between what Billy Bonds stood for and what the modern game represents felt so wide.
For context, the message below appeared on the West Ham fan site
westhamonline.co.uk just hours after his death was announced.
This was written on the West Ham fan site by “Coffee One Sugar”
"He was, and still is, an integral part of my growing up as a West Ham fan. When his name was on the team sheet, you knew, you really knew, that the team would put up a fight, even when it ended up in defeat which was not infrequent. He was usually the first one out of the dressing room afterwards while the others yapped and drank their milk or bottle of light ale or whatever they did knock back at that time.
He was a captain you could look up to, respect, and know that
his first priority was always the interest of the club and its supporters. He was the kind of man you could look up to even from the distance of the terraces.
He had a presence on the field and was held in obvious respect by his team mates. He gave you confidence that you wouldn't be overcome by sheer effort or fight, nor by and in the joint effort of team and fan.I shall miss him, not because I knew the man but for the sense of justified pride that his memory cannot and will not erase.
They say you cannot measure a player by trophies and medals alone. If you could, the record books would gleam with the name of Billy Bonds. But his legacy is not carved from silver or gold; it is etched into the very soul of a football club, into the stands of Upton Park, and into the hearts of generations who were privileged to call him their own.
To watch Billy Bonds play was to understand the very essence of West Ham United. He was not merely a player who wore the claret and blue; he was its living, breathing, battling embodiment. For over two decades, he was the constant, the rock, the leader. He was a force of nature, a player whose heart seemed to beat with the collective pulse of the terraces.
He didn't just cover every blade of grass; he claimed it, defended it, and poured his being into it. His tackles were not just challenges; they were statements of intent, roars of defiance that echoed around the Boleyn Ground.
And what a captain he was. He didn't need an armband to lead, but he wore it with a king's authority and a soldier's humility. He was the man you would follow into battle, because you knew he would be the first into the breach and the last to leave. He led with a clenched fist, a determined stare, and an action that screamed: Follow Me. But beyond the warrior, there was a craftsman.
Beyond the grit, there was grace. He could truly play. He was a fusion of iron and silk, of passion and precision, each taking the fore when circumstance demanded. His legacy is multi-faceted. It lies in the standards he set - that of unwavering commitment, and of putting everything on the line for your cause.
He is the benchmark against which every captain, every player, and every heart that beats claret and blue is measured."
I have nothing to add to the above. To reduce the tribute to a verbal caricature of a southeast London geezer falls way short of the mark.
Best,
Adrian Nunn
San Francisco, CA
This is the email I received back from Barry Glendenning of the Guardian.
Hi Adrian,
Thanks for the mail. You say you found our tribute to Billy inadequate and borderline disrespectful but don't explain why, beyond describing it as "a verbal caricature of a southeast London geezer". That bears little or no relation to the tribute I remember hearing at the time and none to the tribute I just re-listened to, in case it had in some way got completely mangled in the edit and emerged sounding inadequate and disrespectful. That is not the case.
Billy’s love for West Ham, his legendary status, his uncompromising excellence as a player and leader, his striking looks and athletic physique, his longevity and his legendary status were all mentioned, as well as the incontrovertible fact that he was from south-east London, the same neck of the woods as Barney, who spoke about him with obvious fondness, bordering on reverence: "He was a very reassuring figure: you liked him, you respected him ... he was a perfect professional."
I am very sorry for what is obviously a sad loss for you and other West Ham fans, and while it's not for me to dictate what you or anyone else should find inadequate or offensive, I think you're way wide of the mark in saying we were even remotely disrespectful to Billy’s memory or legacy.
Cheers,
Barry
