Homage time

By Stephen 18
May 28 2004

It was one of those days when you really had to be there. Less than 24 hours had elapsed since the biggest day in the club's history and here was yet another unforgettable event.

The homecoming ceremony may have been 25 minutes behind schedule, but that did not matter a jot for the thousands of fans who queued up through the streets of Southwark and Lewisham to pay homage to their heroes.

Not only was this a time for Lions fans to give thanks to the players who had taken them on this historic adventure, it was the opportunity to come together as a group and show that Millwall's fans are as close-knit as they come.

Victory parades are so often hollow backslaps that are done more out of duty than desire, but nothing could have been further from the truth as the open-top bus manoeuvred from the Den through the streets of Bermondsey, Rotherhithe, Deptford, New Cross and Lewisham before reaching its' final destination at the Lewisham Town Hall in Catford.

Now time for a personal confession. After losing the final, my own prediction was that the parade would be a restrained affair with applause the most expressive act on display.

We English love the gallant loser tag, and it would have been understandable had there been a dignified feeling of hard luck laced with deep-down disappointment.

But this is Millwall, and these are an exceptional bunch of fans who celebrated with the biggest capital C you could find, and partied with all the euphoria of an England European Championship win in Portugal this summer.

Maybe these scenes will not be repeated even if Sven Goran Eriksson's men do indeed manage to bring home the trophy next month, because on this day, Millwall's fans acted like their team were world champions.

Standing beneath the railway bridge on Southwark Park Road was an ear-ringing experience. All you could hear were whistles, horns and cheers resonating intensely from the inside roof of a structure that stood proudly throughout the might of a world war.

Millwall's own d-day had ended in defeat, but the same scenes of delirium and pride were what you would have imagined the ve-day celebrations to have been like 59 years ago.

Drinks were filled to capacity at the Ancient Forester's pub, and facial lines were exposed like never before as domino-effect smiles lit up an already sunny afternoon.

Once the bus had left the vicinity, a cavalry charge of people in cars, cycles and on foot, desperately attempted to cast their eye on events at Surrey Quays, where Phil Burkett and Russell Dryden from local group Bermondsey Beat were providing the entertainment.

Cars were hurtling down Southwark Park Road at breakneck speed, but the police turned a blind eye once they saw the Millwall flags attached to their car aerials and heard the unmistakable tones of 'Let 'em Come' belting out of their speakers.

This was not the time to start nit-picking or dwell on negatives. Letting off steam was what it was all about.

The scene at Surrey Quays was nothing short of breathtaking. Three, maybe four thousand supporters decked in blue and white shirts and scarves, were waving Millwall flags with the enthusiasm of a stranded mountaineer desperately trying to capture a helicopter's attention as he crawls broken-legged in the mountains.

And when the players appeared it was as if an electric charge had been set off.

One can only speculate what manager Dennis Wise truly thought as he peered out from the specially erected bandstand to the reception of his name and signature song being chanted by nearly every person standing beneath him.

If truth were to be told I'm sure he was too gobsmacked to even come up with the words to describe it.

Outgoing Mayor of Southwark Council Columba Blango did his best to convey the mood in a suitably animated fashion, but unfortunately his words were drowned out by the din of the crowd.

The same applied for the addresses given by North Southwark and Bermondsey MP Simon Hughes, chairman Theo Pahitis and Wise himself.
Of the few words detectable, "Thank you" and "Pride" were the main sentiments directed towards the adoring public from all three mouths on a special, special afternoon.

As the bus made its' way to its' next destination, the image of seven Millwall fans in a line doing a conga without a care in the world was a moment that made sense of all the madness that goes hand in hand with supporting a small club through little thick and seemingly never-ending thin.

The stop-off at Lewisham Shopping Centre was a similar story, as approximately 2000 supporters voiced their overwhelming adoration towards the staff who had made their dreams come true.

Young, old, whites, blacks and asians, were all unified in a harmonious show of fulfilment.

Paphitis tried to yell out his feelings from a megaphone, but there was no way he could make himself heard, so once again a stage was used to vent the club's own appreciation.

Ray Wilkins took on the verbal duties and his sentiments looked towards an even brighter future.

"I am going to have a moan because I am a miserable bugger. We need you guys at the Den next year because if you don't we won't get promotion, and we need you to be there in your thousands to cheer us on.

"Yesterday in Cardiff was extremely special, and the young men on that bus think they could beat anybody.

"Unfortunately we were playing one of the best teams in the world and couldn't beat them. If you turn up next year we will beat the bigger sides, but you've got to be there for Christ's sake. Let's come on!"

The assistant manager's words were just what were needed. The supporters proved on Saturday at the Millennium Stadium and Sunday in south east London that on the big occasion they are unsurpassable.

But this has to be translated to each and every occasion the Lions take to the pitch.

A football club's success is about a collection of individuals working together to move things forward, and fans are just as important to this as chairmen, managers and players.

Millwall in Europe? They won't know what's hit them.