Dead Hamsters, Or: How I Learnt To Stop Worrying and Love Fulham

Article by e-Fulham Correspondent Barnaby Mollett

Fulham's possible funeral procession to the Championship has reminded me of the death of a childhood pet hamster.

This may be the most morbid of opening paragraphs I'll ever use in my part-time authoring career, but to some extent it's a pretty accurate reflection of the way the second half of the season has panned out for the Cottagers.

So the story: the beloved family hamster, who for the purposes of this article will be know as 'Pedro Rogers' to protect his anonymity, was coming to the end of his reasonably curt lifespan of circa 2 years. However, the final few weeks, months maybe, seemed to drag on in a series of mini-peaks and mini-troughs - moments when the end seemed nigh, followed by moments when Pedro seemed to have conjured another magic 1-Up Mushroom from his cheek storage to prolong what seemed to be the inevitable hamster wheel to the end of the road.

Admittedly, Fulham are not a popular domestic rodent of Syrian or Russian descent. But this cycle of hopes-getting-up-hopes-going-down is similar to the sage hamster Pedro's final chapters.

Firstly, let's start from the comparative Sugar Loaf Mountain heights of the January transfer window. Okay, so Berbatov was sent to Monaco (a location apt, perhaps, for a decision representing such a gamble), but the incoming locomotive express brought Heitinga, Holtby, Mitroglou and Kvist - a set of players that seemed to suggest our squad had been bolstered suitably to avoid the drop. Also don't forget that the return of club legend Clint Dempsey also looked pretty appetising on the menu of Eat My Goal. Alas, Mitroglou. Has there ever been a more mysterious signing in the January transfer window for a club in a perilous position? The intent was good: £12 million on a striker who was scoring a goal a game looked more menacing than Dennis, Gnasher and Minnie the Minx approaching in a blacked-out SUV. But the facts are that sitting here now in April, he's not played a full game - and before his transfer had been out with a medium-term injury over the Christmas period, only playing a few minutes of football. Even if Fulham had the entire EU farm-subsidised stockpile of eggs at Motspur Park, and a basket the size of an orange Smartie, this would still have been a case of putting all the eggs in one basket.

Lest us not forget the New Year’s Day win over West Ham, pulling Fulham 4 points clear of The Hammers and two points outside the relegation zone. Our goal difference of -21 was still the worst in the league, but was comparable to the teams around us. Exactly one month later, with no further points, Fulham were propping up the table, with a goal difference of 9 worse than the next nearest team.

The two resolute performances against Manchester United and Liverpool? Followed by Meulensteen getting the axe. Each ‘bankable’ home game? Up until the Newcastle game, failure to get three points. Even the smaller glimpses of hope – Man City having Kompany suspended, or out-playing Everton in the first 45 minutes a fortnight ago – have tended to have an immediate downer that follows, normally in the lemony sour taste of another defeat, with the ever-endeavouring Lewis Holtby sitting on the pitch, head in hands.

However, perhaps, like all non-infinitely linear roads, there is a turning point. I had this feeling when I genuinely believed the Cottagers had a chance of a victory against a Villa side

sans Christian Benteke. Then, as if by some law of science, Hugo Rodallega scored a glancing header to seal that very outcome. David Stockdale was positively elated at the final whistle. Holtby’s superb form was finally vindicated.

Then, in a move that no laws of science could explain, Chris Hughton was savagely chopped from the Norwich timber, with just five games remaining. Sure, Norwich have had their ropey moments this season, and it is perhaps surprising Hughton wasn’t sacked earlier in the season, given that Premier League managers have had a rate of turnover faster than Wensleydale cheese in the Wallace and Gromit household. So, the Canaries are flying without a wingman to the Cottage this weekend – and Fulham face perhaps the fifteenth or sixteenth ‘must-win’ game since the turn of the year. Whoever wins will be looking like the Top Gun; whoever loses, will be taking a ride on the footballing Highway to the Danger Zone.

It would be wrong for the team to focus on internal affairs at Carrow Road rather than building on the foundations of the Villa victory, but this is maybe just another atom of survival opportunity swinging in Fulham’s favour. Maybe the Whites will pull off another momentous great escape, maybe they’ll get stuck at the fence like Steve McQueen. But, in recent weeks, at least the team look like if they’ll succumb to whichever fate fighting, with the fans right behind them. Over 3,000 went away to Villa last week, the highest away support in the Premier League that weekend. Not bad for a small club with a cottage by the river.

© e-Football 2014 All rights reserved no part of this document or this website may be reproduced without consent of e-Football