Somewhat predictably, Andrew Johnson’s attempt to return to a level of fitness to challenge for a place in the Palace lineup came to an end today, as the club announced the release of this much-loved modern day legend. The reaction on the message boards and social media seems to be dominated by what I would initially call cynicism about the decision to give it a try in the first place. At the time of the signing I called on people to let a little bit of romance and sentiment rule the head, if only for a moment, and dare to dream. I feel much the same now but it can’t be ignored that many people feel it was something the club should never have done.
First of all, in order to address the specific criticism, you have to look at the specific player. AJ’s first spell, where he made his name and achieved International recognition as one of the best English strikers of his generation, albeit briefly, began with a player many questioned. He had a great attitude but a poor goal record – and often found himself used wide right. AJ did eventually make the position of centre forward his own and quite simply it was his electric pace and close control that made him such a threat. He ran so fast with the ball that defenders had the choice of watching him go past or fouling him. Similarly goalkeepers often found themselves not quite set for his shots due to the rate at which he closed in on goal.
Teams had to adapt their whole system for AJ and many other players prospered with being given more time on the ball and being able to push high up the pitch as their opponents sat off. We were not a one-man team, but when that one man was in our side, it was a different game.
Now that I’ve established just how flippin’ brilliant he was, it gives me the platform to argue my case – because without that it’s a no-brainer. Injury prone, aging striker lacking match fitness off the back of a stuttering season in the league below does not equal “good signing” on paper. More so when one of the biggest problems with the injuries is that they have sapped that striker’s biggest threat – the pace.
I would simply argue that AJ had shown in spells since leaving Palace that even without blistering pace, he had developed into a confident and assured striker. In fact he began his final season in the Championship with QPR in the first team and linking play well along with finding the net on a couple of occasions. So providing he could get fit, there was potential that his presence could offer us something useful. It does him a disservice to suggest he was only someone who could run quickly.
Furthermore, he was brilliant – just brilliant – in a Palace shirt. Even half-fit, even a quarter fit, surely it would be worth it? Surely it would be enough for him to grab a goal and mime eating a burger in front of the Palace faithful once more?
Well no. In isolation it’s no surprise it didn’t work out and had it been a striker with no Palace history then I would have been up in arms about it. The reason I am not brings me back to the question asked in the title. Sentiment does play a part – and I don’t think there is anything wrong with that. This might immediately have some of you recoiling in horror at the very idea I would argue that a place in a Premier League 25 man squad could be handed over on sentiment, considering someone like Glenn Murray was shipped out to Reading on loan.
For me though, football without a hint of sentiment or romanticism, or whatever you want to call it, is like football without hope. It would be a harsh, barren game if we all just accepted stoic logic as our only permissible way to view the sport. It might not be the case that you have to believe the impossible – but believing that you believe the impossible works just as well!
To sum up AJ – quite simply I wanted it to work. I hoped it would work. I accepted it probably wouldn’t but I allowed myself to dream that it might – that he might just click “back home” and start knocking in the goals again. I’d feel a poorer man in spirit had I not thought that.
To look at the question from another angle, we can look at the managerial situation too. Sentiment almost certainly played a part in Alan Pardew’s decision to leave Newcastle for Palace – and it may well have had an impact in our willingness to go after him in the first place. Beyond that, the hero’s welcome at Dover and the immediate singing of his name would not have been afforded to a manager without connections to the club quite so strong. This is undeniable proof that people will accept sentiment if the perception is it will work in their favour – and it is also proof, in my opinion, that it is a useful tool as well.
Whilst it has been used as a tool to secure us a manager who may have been beyond our reach, so too it can be used as a tool to give the fans a lift. Arguably the signings of AJ and Wilfried Zaha were used this way and indeed the appointment of Pardew also provides this.
What’s interesting to me is that few people would argue a fan’s entitlement to be sentimental. Most would probably argue that an owner should avoid sentimental decisions and work only for the best of the club. Almost uniquely we have owners who are fans and reading/listening to fellow supporters it is clear that many people expect both, even when contradictory. An example would be in the summer – Speroni needed a new contract and testimonial, he’s a legend (unarguable) but had the owners listened to the last manager, he would not be here. The business decision would surely be to back the decision of your manager but as owners they understood that the supporters on the whole would have felt allowing Speroni to leave would have been offensive to a club legend and, based on his performances at the time, a mistake. The very same people would argue that the player deserves respect and the manager must be listened to – but they aren’t the people who have to call it one way or the other.
It’s impossible to fully discuss this issue from every angle within the confines of a single article – but what I am trying to hit home is that I am personally at odds with the cynical, business-like attitudes of some sections of our support. I can argue logic all day, but sometimes I feel people are missing out on something by not buying into the more emotional, hope-driven aspects of being a supporter. People scowling as we sing about going to Wembley when one goal up against Dover – I mean lighten up! This is supposed to be enjoyable isn’t it?
We’ve been though enough hard times that we should look at where we are now as a club and just remember every now and then what could have been. There are a multitude of clubs that would swap places with us right now and we’re experiencing some of our most successful times (so far) – with a promise we could make a step higher up. We’ve got a manager with a great reputation who knows the club and its supporters and we’ve got half a season to make some noise and get behind whoever is out on the pitch.
I think the question posed in the title has a straightforward answer – yes. As a means to dream the impossible, as a means to lift and inspire, as means to look nostalgically back and as a means to hope for a bright future.
