One-One fanzine was born in 1995, and a truly
dreadful first issue fitted perfectly with its truly dreadful name. No one knows quite why it was started or why it
continues but three times a season, One-One comes and goes without causing much fuss. After six years and sixteen
issues we’ve managed to attract a small but dedicated cult following that despite slight improvement with each issue,
refuses to get any bigger. Initially we intended for One-One to be a humourous look at the Wanderers, but somehow it
didn’t work out like that, and we’ve consequently earned our reputation as hard-nosed terrace cynics.
One-one can be contacted by post at PO Box 589, High Wycombe, Bucks, HP15 7XL, or by email at
oneone1@hotmail.com. Issue 16 was released in January before the FA Cup
game against Fulham, priced at just 50p. There's an excerpt below plus a few bits from previous issues to whet your
appetite:
Thisarticlecoulddowithatitle.. (Issue 16)
One-One has been kicking around for six years now and during that time I’ve always had the feeling that at least
some of the ideas, arguments, beliefs and moans were at the very least similar to those held by the silent majority
of Blues fans. Sometime this season, I came to realise that this isn’t really the case. Yet this isn’t what bothers
me, nor what I’m about prattle on about. I honestly don’t mind that most Blues fans don’t agree with our views or
worry about certain actions the board of directors may have taken. What I do mind is that it seems the majority of
fans aren’t even willing to debate or even consider any ideas or suggestions other than those put forward by the
club itself.
In short, the Blue Army has become the Sycophantic Army. It seems that it’s is willing to back down on nearly
all issues in order to fit in with those of the club. I wish that this wasn’t the case but in my less and less
frequent trips to Adams Park I see more of this behaviour in the flesh. Take "Orange Day" for example, a strange idea
that surely no one could admit to being excited about. Yet the club suggested it, so it has to be supported. Would
Wycombe fans ever come up with our own idea for fancy dress at an away game? I don’t think so. Have you heard an
original or funny Wycombe chant in the last couple of years? I don’t think I have. Has Wycombe ever had a fanzine
that has properly become a forum for views right across the board? Not since The Adams Family’s glory days. How about
one that has received many contributions from outside the editorial team? We could count our outside contributors
(including genuine letters) on one hand.
The only proper forum for views is Chairboys On The Net’s Gasroom, where the contributors can remain anonymous and
free from chastisement. Yet even in the Gasroom those willing to blindly accept whatever the club throws at us, good or
bad, outweigh those willing to stop and debate something, and look at what would be best for us as fans.
The problem as I see it is that most Wycombe fans see themselves as part of the club, and have more than enough
faith in the board as fellow fans to make all their decisions for them. Yet surely there have been enough instances
in the last ten years to suggest that the interests of the club and the fans don’t always go hand in hand. The board
suggesting moving to Milton Keynes and the constant price rises come immediately to mind, and Wasps moving in could
be another. These are all occasions when the fans weren’t consulted or represented in any way, yet still many
Wycombe supporters side with the board over these issues. The most die-hard sycophants even go out of their way to
reinforce these arguments on the various Internet sites. This "support at all costs" attitude stems from the board
stating that they "have the same aspirations that you have". I don’t agree. While the board and myself may agree
that we want to get promoted, I don’t believe that people who have supported this club for 10, 15 and 20 years
should be left behind because of rampant commercialisation. If they hadn’t supported the club all that time then the
club wouldn’t be here, and now when we get a bit of success they’re replaced with new fans with fatter wallets.
That’s where my "hopes and aspirations" are different to those of the club, and that’s why I’ll continue to question
everything from the fans point of view, rather than as a club as a whole.
This isn’t an article against the board of directors, it’s one against the idea that many fans seem to have that the
board and staff should never be questioned no matter how that may affect the fans. Seeing as the whole point of
One-One is hopefully provide a few different opinions and moan and praise where its due, I hope that I’m wrong.
But as we sell our sixteenth issue in six years to same 120 people today, it’s hard not to feel just the slightest
bit demoralised. (cue the violins - Ed)
Pre-Season Banter (Issue 15)
So the Spurs friendly actually turned out to be reasonably enjoyable, despite the overly
crowded terrace. The best thing about pre-season friendlies for me is the atmosphere reminiscent of the old non-league
days allowing you could stretch out and relax whilst enjoying some particularly low-key football. No such luck at this
fixture, and so keen were Wycombe to allow people to see this fixture, that we didn’t bother with proper segregation or
even keeping the famous "yellow marked areas" clear. Now I’m not the kind of boring person that would complain about
this sort of thing and it doesn’t bother me, but I don’t really like the bloke on the tannoy bleating on about how the
kick-off was delayed for the supporters’ safety and how paramount it is to the club. What he means is that the ground
is built at a dead end so as soon as more than the usual 5000 turn up things go tits up. It wasn’t anything to do with
safety, we just can’t cope with large crowds and if they turn up, we want their money regardless of whether they can
actually fit in safely or not.
So anyway, then that opera singer comes out and does "You’ll Never Walk Alone" and "Nessun Dorma".
Halfway through the latter the downright genius behind me says, "This song reminds of the 1990 World Cup."
Can’t think why mate. Now opera singers at football are simply not a very good idea, and I’ll tell you why. If I liked
opera (which I don’t), then I would go to the opera. But at this opera I wouldn’t want some part-time footballers to run
out on the stage before and have a five-minute kick around in an attempt to entertain me. I also wouldn’t want these
footballers to call for the ball in Italian or wear suits in a vague attempt to link the two together, like old matey on
the microphone does by singing vaguely football related songs. I could go on about how this pre-match entertainment is a
cynical marketing ploy to attract more affluent class of supporter, or even how it’s insulting to football fans to assume
we only appreciate populist songs being done to death, but I can’t really be bothered.
In fact, despite the startlingly impressive debut of Darren Currie and the generally sound performance by the side,
this game has almost put me off the coming season rather than whet my appetite for it. Maybe it’s the Wycombe fans
singing "Come on Wycombe" with all their hearts in a meaningless friendly when even the players were laughing
when they missed (Sheringham) or nearly scored an own-goal (Carroll). Or maybe it was the sheer banality of the comments
around me and the general lack of appreciation of world-class players like Sheringham or Poyet. Sheringham in fact, was
booed the first time he touched the ball for absolutely no reason other than he is Teddy Sheringham, and he is a world-class
player. Still, such is the unbelievably crap entrenched view of the so-called die-hard who fails to acknowledge any
footballing ability unless he’s wearing the same shirt as them, even in a meaningless pre-season friendly. When the chorus
of "If you all hate Tottenham, clap your hands" went up I honestly considered leaving, and even if it was meant
as a joke, it was a shit one at that.
It’s just all so tiresome. As You and the Blues says, "Buy a season-ticket, wear the shirt, use the website, buy
the programme, queue for 45 minutes to get a horse penis in a bun." Well, maybe not the last one but the point is
clear: it’s a synthetic fan culture that has been created. It’s boring; it’s humourless and it’s generally devoid of any
character that might distinguish our fans from those of any other club. I don’t have to do any of the aforementioned things
to be a valuable supporter of this football club, whether I do or not should be my choice. So if I want to applaud the
opposition in a pre-season friendly, slag off a Wycombe player, not wear a replica shirt, or, God forbid, not buy a season
ticket then I shouldn’t be treated as some sort of inadequate who isn’t a true fan, or doesn’t understand football.
One of the best things about watching non-league football is the opportunity to laugh at your own team and generally
take the piss. Yet apparently to be a proper fan you can’t do this, as every kick of every ball has a life-defining
importance. Well I’m sorry but it doesn’t for me and I’ll watch how I want, when I want. I’m not the sort of fan who wants
to listen to people ring Richard Littlejohn on Five Live scrutinising every last detail or every decision a referee has
made. I’m the sort of fan who wants to listen to Danny Baker and Danny Kelly taking calls on people playing football in
a prison with a bread roll, or the man whose Dad made him a four foot wide wooden bow-tie to wear to Dundee United matches.
But I can’t, as they were taken off Talk Radio a couple of years ago because they weren’t talking seriously enough about
football issues. The real fans won the day, the proper fans that care so much about their club. Fans that are so loyal
to the fabulous players that care so much about our club, even though they’ll piss off to highest bidder without a thought
for the proper fans that once followed them to Swansea away.
They’ve certainly won the day at Wycombe, and I’m tired of being told off for suggesting Rammell might get to the
ball quicker if he caught a fucking bus. The serious fans have taken over Adams Park and I can’t take it. I want Wycombe
to win as much as anyone but I’ll support them in my own way - without buying a shirt, a season ticket or singing at
friendlies. And without being so blindly loyal that I can’t see our own failings, and more importantly, that in the
long run, it’s not more important than life and death. It’s nowhere even near that.
Price Rises (Issue 12)
WHAT ONE-ONE HAS SAID ABOUT FIVE YEARS OF PRICE RISES AT ADAMS PARK
"Nothing anyone can say will ever dissuade me from thinking that WWFC putting up admission prices yet again
for the 1998/99 season is a disgrace, a travesty and the clearest indication yet of how much they really care about
their supporters."
Issue No. 5 - Christmas 1998
"At this point in time, 'Parry public relations' and 'Austin Marketing' now really come into their own; the
board decided on a 33% price increase. Now, I understand the commercial requirements in football. It is a business,
and like any other business relies on clients, but here we have a commercial operation offering its clients not much
for their money, insulting them in the newspapers and then making amends by putting in a huge price rise. To me it
seems like a case of - the club cock up - the fans pay for it. Well not me!"
Issue No. 10 - January 2000
"I sometimes wonder if people down at WWFC have forgotten about the week in week out supporter.....Can’t WWFC
see that raising prices on the back of a poor season will drive people away....soon it will almost be essential to buy a
season ticket, simply because they are cheaper in the long term....perhaps the club should think a little more carefully
about the long-term losses rather than the short term gains."
Issue No. 3 - August 1997
"There is still the same amount of people driving around with mini-kits in their cars or saying that they
support Wycombe as there was five years ago but they weren’t being asked to pay a minimum of £9 to get in back then.
It’s time to face the simple facts: football used to be for everyone; now it is just for those that can afford it."
Issue No. 4 - March 1998
"Too many people who used to watch Wycombe are looking for a game to watch on a Saturday, seeing £10 to stand
behind the goal, £13, £14, £15 to sit down and thinking 'Bugger that' and then going elsewhere. We need to attract back
the floating fans because floating fans turn into loyal fans."
Back again is the newest member of the One-One editorial team, Arthur Scartletops, the oldest Wycombe fan we know - at a mere 134 years old. Because of his age, obviously, Arthur can remember games as far back as 1872. Now, once again, and despite the hoards of scurrilous rumours about his fast disappearing sanity that have taken High Wycombe by storm, he takes us on a tragical history tour of the football of that era...
I’m now going to move on slightly from the period at the turn of the century, to the period in the run up to the
First World War, as I’ve done the former timespan to death really. Anyway, 1906 saw the Liberals gain a landslide victory
in the general election. Unfortunately, I was tricked by a crafty cousin of mine to vote for the Bourne End Socialist
Revolutionaries, who my cousin told me advocated free Cornish pasties every day for workers. It turned out that they
didn’t advocate that at all and they didn’t win a single seat either, so my vote was wasted after all. Still, politics
never has been my thing so I’ll stick to the football instead.
The 1906/07 season coincided with the worst downward trend in Wycombe’s attendances for years and years. In fact,
for one game against Dulwich only four supporters turned up. There was me, Walter Turnbuckle, Cornellius Raughtiron
and Harry Mettsalleey, although Harry brought a book to read with him and Walter went to the toilet for the whole of
the second half. He was actually stuck in there for two days because the groundsman locked up not realising that Walter
was inside, doing his bottom business. Still that game was still memorable because I chatted in the bar with ex-Crowded
House frontman Neil Finn’s Great-Grandad, who happened to be enjoying a pint. He was particularly cheery because New
Zealand was just about to become a Dominion. However, an otherwise enjoyable chat was ruined when Cornellius told a
crude joke about New Zealanders and sheep and Mr Finn took offence and kicked several shades out of poor old wannabee
comedian Cornellius. Actually, when Mr Finn left the bar the rain stopped outside, which just goes to show that everywhere
he goes he always takes the weather with him.
The attendance problem wasn’t solved by the non-stop stream of crap served
up by our second-rate players. However, games were livened up when the Wycombe Wanderers Supporters Association of
Scrabble Players was formed. The four of us played Scrabble on the terraces which was much more enjoyable than watching
the games. Our own illiterate natures made the games tense, if somewhat boring. There was a huge roar when in 1911
someone finally made a five letter word. It was usually passionate, and foul-mouthed Cornellius usually provoked
someone into beating him senseless. You would have thought he might learn from his beatings yet Cornellius was dedicated
to causing trouble. Cornellius Raughtiron is officially known in Wycombe Historian circles as the first Wycombe Wanderers
hooligan and was finally banned from the ground in 1956 as an old man, when he hit an opposing fan with one of those things
you put your letters in when playing Scrabble. Although officially a disgrace and a slur on the game, Cornellius was a bit
of a laugh and always got you a pint. Unfortunately he usually smashed the glass back over your head once you’d drunk it.
The Association of Scrabble Players finally disbanded in 1984 but we had a reunion in 1991 at the FA Trophy Final, though
apparently we missed a good game. For the record, I won the Scrabble that day with "Dog" on a triple word score.
Arthur.
Poetry Corner (Issue 5)
One-One have pulled out all the stops to persuade the fourth best "post post-modern"
poet in the Flackwell Heath area, Desmond D. Brunier (age 42 ¾), to publish his work every issue, here in the
least read Wycombe fanzine around:
And NOW the programme costs 2 quid
So the programme costs two pound now, You could buy 7.69 Curly Wurly’s instead, The world is going mad they say, MIND YOUR LANGUAGE, MIND THE GAP
We don’t want swearers at this club, Foul language shows a poor vocabulary - or so they say, £5 CLUBSHOP GIFT VOUCHER OFFER ENDS TODAY
10 pounds please, mate, for behind the goal, Desmond D. Brunier.
It does you know.
But the value is there - oh yes,
44 pages now - 4 more than 40, you know.
But then you couldn’t read Marketing Matters,
Or see the picture of Adrian Wood,
But then you can’t see it anyway.
And getting madder by the day,
My wheely-bin doesn’t have a lid,
And now the programme costs 2 quid.
We don’t you know.
Our support is smaller than that picture of Adrian Wood in the programme,
But we still don’t want swearers at this club.
Me no say it is nice to say swearing neither.
Yet tell me a better word than "twat" for Fraser Stretton.
You haven’t found one.
You won’t.
There isn’t one.
You haven’t got a leg to stand on either.
Of course the club hasn’t sold it’s soul.
Piss up in a brewery - sounds complicated to me.
Try the ticket office 200 yards up that way, mate.
Use your walking stick, old boy, that’s what you’ve got it for.
You can’t come through this gate,
More than my job’s worth mate.
You haven’t bought the new shirt - you’re no real fan.
You whinger, writing letters to the BFP - you’re no real fan.
Loakes Park - never heard of it mate - Wycombe play at Adams Park.
Len Worley - is that rhyming slang for Curly Wurly?
Tony Horseman - what’s he do then?
Gary Lester - he never played for Wycombe, it’s a type of cheese innit?
You keep cows in a cowshed, not Wycombe fans - it’s the Servispak stand for us.
We’re famous for our quarters - of course we never played in all light blue shirts!
Changing ends at half time? Away fans down that end mate.
It great the club attracting the youngsters - get ‘em while their young, get the families down here.
They’re the future of Wycombe aren’t they?
No-one cares about the past.
Age 42 ¾
A Pub,
Flackwell Heath