Brentford: Premier League new boys buzzing for the next adventure

Perhaps '#teamslikeBrentford' isn't such a bad hashtag after all. The Premier League new boys have shown how to go from small acorn to giant oak, says lifelong supporter Chris Hatherall

On Friday Brentford will become the 50th club to host Premier League football when they host Arsenal. Picture: Alex Burstow/Getty Images

It's 1978, there’s a smell of pipe tobacco in the air and the natives at Griffin Park are drumming their feet on the wooden floor of the main stand as boisterous colleagues pummel their palms against a corrugated iron wall.

I can’t remember who Brentford were playing or even if they won; but I do know this was the moment when a schoolboy from west London fell in love with the Bees, thanks to an invitation from Uncle Mike to see a ‘real football match’.

They may be in the top flight now, but one thing that Brentford have never lost during all that time is the promise of ‘real football’ – and that’s something the Premier League should be welcoming with open arms this weekend.

Brentford are now possibly the best run club in the country, famous for their innovative strategy and remarkable recruitment which has seen them buy, develop and sell, at a huge profit, the likes of Ollie Watkins, Said Benrahma, Ezri Konsa and Neal Maupay.

It hasn’t always been that way, far from it. But 1978 was, in its own way, a heady time.

The Bees had just won promotion from the old Fourth Division and although the new season turned out to be hit and miss, with Brentford finishing 10th, there was more than enough to keep a first-timer interested.

There was giant Scottish centre-half Jim McNichol, who had a thunderous shot, his partner Pat Kruse (who Uncle Mike said was very good but couldn’t play under the lights), and a winger called Doug Allder who never took his foot off the touchline all match.

Living in London my first experience could just have easily been at Chelsea, Fulham or any club within a short tube ride. But even though it took 14 years to see another promotion campaign, there was never a moment’s doubt that being a Brentford fan was worth it – despite nine failed play-off campaigns and two EFL Trophy Final defeats.

In the bad times, nobody really knew who we were. Acquaintances regularly congratulated me on Bradford’s victories or asked how Brentwood had done - or made some age-old joke about Brentford Nylons.

Even in recent times Bees fans embraced the hashtag ‘teamslikebrentford’ after rivals complained bitterly on social media that their side shouldn’t be losing to ‘teams like Brentford’.

Now it will be supporters of even bigger clubs making the same comments, because although the Bees play at a brand-new high-tech stadium by Kew Bridge it is still the smallest in the division with a capacity of 17,250.

Griffin Park, by contrast, was old school. It was a place where fans and players mixed in the bar after matches and where passion in the stands made it one of the best grounds for atmosphere in the lower leagues.

Going there felt like a second home, a place of solace where even in the days of poor football there was comfort in numbers – and where you were lifted to a different plane altogether when the football was good. And it’s been good, very good, ever since childhood fan Matthew Benham took over the reins in 2012, transforming ‘little Brentford’ into something even more special than its most avid fans could have imagined.

As a kid I revelled in Uncle Mike’s stories of the 1930s when the Bees played in the old First Division with crowds of 33,000, even finishing fifth in 1936 and winning the London War Cup Final in 1942.

The only footage of that match against Portsmouth at Wembley shows captain Joe James dropping the trophy, which is very Brentford.

But the stories lent credence to Uncle Mike’s insistence that the Bees were a ‘sleeping giant’ who would one day rise again.

It was hard to see any evidence at the time, but it was a line I repeated to anyone who would listen – greeting their raised eyebrows with quiet indignance.

Since then, watching Brentford has been like a life-long family relationship. Sometimes they do things that make you despair, sometimes you feel fiercely protective – and on the good days you love them so much that it hurts.

The moments of pure love included playing an FA Cup quarter-final at Liverpool in 1989, winning promotion to the old Second Division in 1992 with a final-day victory at Peterborough - and beating Preston to return to the Championship 22 years later.

That last success came after the arrival of Benham who has transformed the club with his innovative approach and strategic vision.

It has gone from the brink of extinction when fans rattled tins outside Griffin Park to raise cash to pay the bills, to one that plays wonderful football, aims to be the most inclusive in England and does things differently to everyone else.

It’s an easy club to be proud of, with a ‘no dickheads’ policy ensuring players who wear the shirt fit the philosophy of valuing good people just as highly as great skills - overseen by manager Thomas Frank, who is one of the most genuine men in football.

Then there’s matchday announcer Peter Gilham, Mr Brentford. He’s been doing it for almost 53 years – longer even than Liverpool’s Voice of Anfield George Sephton – and wears his passion on his sleeve. It’s his job to remind players of what it means to wear the red and white stripes, especially when they play ‘that team’ from Loftus Road - a club which tried to buy Griffin Park in 1967 and put the Bees out of business.

The power of fan protest saved Brentford on that occasion and now the rewards are here; a fact rammed home recently when Kristoffer Ajer arrived from Celtic for a record €15m. The transfer came just 15 years after Chris Moore signed on a free from Dagenham – a signing which was only possible because his wages were paid from a €60,000 jackpot won by fans in a Coca Cola ‘win a player competition’.

It’s that kind of history, not to mention all those play-off heartaches, that makes you appreciate success.

Beating Swansea in the play-off final at Wembley in May delivered the most incredible, emotional and life-enhancing moment you can imagine – a moment that could not have felt better if you were a Liverpool fan seeing your first Premier League victory in 30 years or a Manchester United supporter watching the Champions League Final of 1999.

It proved that supporting a small club can deliver feelings that transcend football and reach into the very core of your being. Because at Brentford you aren’t one of 60,000, you aren’t anonymous, you aren’t a customer. You are part of a real football club, playing real football in the real world.

So, when ‘teamslikebrentford’ play the big boys this season, don’t feel shy to back them.

Think about your local club, your family and how football used to be - and give them a cheer.

Sadly, Uncle Mike can’t be there to do the same. So, if you could raise a glass to him up in the sky when the Bees play Arsenal on Friday that would be rather nice as well…