Review: An Irrational Hatred of Everything

Robert Banks’ An Irrational Hatred of Everything looks at West Ham from 2003-2018 and reminds us all just what an irrational (and familiar) ride it’s been. It starts off in the Championship with West Ham flogging most of the England team under Terence Brown and fan group Whistle protesting against the board.

Under new manager Alan Pardew Banks reminisces about scattergun loan signings such as Robbie Stockdale, Malky Mackay and Jon Harley. But then come the kind-of glory years of three successive appearances at the Millennium Stadium and a return to the Premier League. What could possibly go wrong?

This work by Banksy won’t shred itself, but he recalls plenty of times when the club itself was nearly shredded. I’d almost forgotten that West Ham fans had been sold a dream and delivered a nightmare before. Only the Hammers could have been bought by one of the richest men in the world who then became one of the poorest. Banksy chronicles the Icelandic years of Gudmundsson and Eggy the Egg Man: these involved the Great Escape, splurging a fortune on Dyer, Ljungberg, Lucas Neill and co and then spending a whole season under Alan Curbishley when we were contractually obliged to be tenth every week. We lost 4-0 three times in a row and still remained tenth.

Then came the strange years under Zola of being so Brassic we played in patches sewn over the name of our bankrupt sponsor XL. Banks helps recall Zola’s teams eking out Premiership survival through jobbing temporary strikers like Di Michele, Tristan, Ilan and Franco and more heroically the spirit of the indefatigable Scott Parker.

Gold and Sullivan arrive and install Avram Grant, who expertly steers us to relegation (anyone remember Victor Obinna and Pablo Barrera?) The author sums up the Allardyce years well, being torn between the desire to see us actually getting some results and going up, but also cringing at the ear-cupping episode and the lack of a Plan B if we go a goal down.

Under Bilic he’s goggle-eyed at the away wins and emotion of the final season at the Boleyn before being dismayed at the infighting at the London Stadium, a move that he’s clear we were not consulted about. Although Robert feels part of the club has died, he’s still optimistic enough to see hope in a rare victory over Spurs and the atmosphere at Moyes’ first home game against Leicester.

This is Banks' fourth West Ham book, continuing the series that began with An Irrational Hatred of Luton. He makes a good everyman fan. Like most of us he has to juggle his life and the Hammers. He doesn’t go to every game, misses out on finals and for a long time he’s restricted to northern outings while living in Bradford. We hear a lot about his problems with his ex-wife, then a new relationship with Elaine from Brazil (missing the play-off final to get married in Brazil is a fair excuse). There’s a moving section on his dad dying and Andy Carroll seeming to score that overhead kick in his memory.

Robert also has a lot to say about the shouty nature of social media, and sees West Ham fans start to become divided in the toxic Allardyce debates. Banks covers the Real West Ham fans on/off march, likening the ICF to a drunken uncle at a wedding, and despairs at the abuse of WHUISA and others, while making a heartfelt plea for some online respect and tolerance of opposing viewpoints.

Like most of us, Banks seems to understand that the West Ham Way is both irrational defeats and irrational victories and that, “it’s about our heritage, playing the right way, sportsmanship, winning through superior skill and endeavour and losing with grace.”

An Irrational Hatred of Everything is a rollicking, passionate read that emphasises that while permanent chaos (and the odd moment of glory) is the natural order at West Ham, it’s the fans that endure.

An Irrational Hatred of Everything is published by Biteback, price £12.99.