You don’t need to be a West Ham fan to know that the London Stadium isn’t the most popular stadium in the country.
Hammers fans complain about it and opposing fans criticise it.
Most of the time, the moans and the criticism are justified. It has many flaws, not least that it’s not a purpose-built football stadium. It’s a converted arena built originally for athletics and its lower tier is held up by scaffolding. Lots and lots of scaffolding.
It’s pain to get to, and an even bigger pain to get away from. The gap between the pitch and the seats on both sides of the stadium is a bit too large for the liking of English football fans (although it’s worth pointing out, European fans in similar stadiums which have running tracks don’t tend to complain about it). The view from the upper tier makes it look like you’re about a mile from the pitch.
Structural and logistical issues aside, it’s simply not Upton Park. It doesn’t even come close to Upton Park. It never will do.
I shouldn’t need to go into the details of why that’s the case. It’s obvious why. One thing that does need explaining, though, is that the general opinion that Upton Park was a constant cauldron of noise and intimidation could not be further from the truth. It wasn’t always loud. It wasn’t always rocking. It wasn’t always a fun place to be on a Saturday afternoon.
The notion that West Ham have sacrificed all of that for a stadium that cannot generate an atmosphere, or never has, is completely false. It’s fantasy. It’s a myth dreamt up by those who are finding it hard to adapt to their new surroundings. It’s the nostalgia effect on steroids.
Upton Park had its moments, like every stadium in the country has had, but it didn’t have its moment every single game. If you think it did then you’re lying to yourself.
This rosy retrospection of Upton Park means London Stadium regularly gets called “soulless.” I cringe every time I hear someone describe it like that, because it’s a lazy way of trying to justify the opinion that West Ham made a huge mistake in moving there.
I don’t recall it being soulless that night against Sevilla, or when we beat Arsenal in the League Cup, or when we almost ended Bayer Leverkusen’s unbeaten run last season, or when we beat Manchester City on penalties, or on the numerous times we’ve beaten Spurs and Man United there, or the times we’ve beaten Liverpool and Chelsea there. It wasn’t even soulless on that infamous day against Burnley.
But it was ‘soulless’ when we were drawing 0-0 with Everton, or losing 2-0 to Crystal Palace, or being knocked out of the cup by Blackburn on penalties, or losing 3-0 to Brighton on a Friday night, or being thrashed 5-1 by Newcastle, or when we’re drawing 1-1 with Bristol City in the FA Cup.
Do I need to spot the theme out for you?
Football stadiums are only loud when the home team is performing well or is winning. Likewise, football stadiums only begin to feel like home to fans when the team is doing well and memories are made there.
That’s why it looks so long for London Stadium to even feel remotely like home. We were rubbish in those first few years at Stratford and the stadium was blamed for a lot of that. The atmosphere was terrible because the team was terrible. It’s not rocket science, is it? Perhaps it is, I don’t know.
But it’s funny, isn’t it, that fans barely mentioned their hatred for the stadium when David Moyes was masterminding top six Premier League finishes and three consecutive years of European nights.
It’s equally funny that the moment the team starts underperforming and playing badly again this season that the stadium is once again on the lips of a disgruntled fanbase.
I read an article this week which even named the sale of popcorn at London Stadium as one of the reasons why it’s not a good place to watch football. I know it’s 2025 and people are offended by anything and everything, but being offended at popcorn being sold at a sports venue is a whole new level of pathetic.
The same article goes on to claim that the club’s legal responsibility to reduce persistent standing “seals London Stadium’s fate as the Premier League’s soulless bowl.” Sure, let’s ignore the fact the club is legally obliged to ensure all fans in an all-seater stadium are seated at all times.
It’s particularly ironic that the author of the article even cites Newham Council’s safety licensing page, where minutes of the stadium’s Safety Advisory Group Meeting minutes are recorded. Of course, no reference of the fact every single all-seater stadium in the country has to follow the exact same laws.
I hate to break it to those who simply cannot fathom any other scenario other than the club being at blame here, but it’s also a problem for every other club in the country.
Does fans sitting down affect the atmosphere? Yes, I’m not arguing that. But let’s not pretend it wasn’t an issue at Upton Park either. But of course, the nostalgia effect is in play here as well.
In the same article, the author also makes reference to there being too many tourists at London Stadium. I’m going to make a pretty safe presumption that they’ve been a tourist at a football match somewhere else in the world at some point in their life. If they haven’t, it’s more than likely ‘visit Nou Camp or San Siro’ remains on their bucket list.
See the irony again?
So what am I saying here? It’s certainly not that the London Stadium is perfect, nor is it that it’s better than Upton Park. It most certainly isn’t, on both counts.
But it’s about time fans stopped complaining about it, especially when using lazy words like ‘soulless’ or blaming popcorn for the team not performing well.
It has its issues, ones that do need to be sorted out, but the issues fans are complaining about are simply not issues at all and were indeed present at Upton Park also, such as only occasionally whipping up a good atmosphere, most commonly in big games against rivals, or being told to sit down by stewards.
It’s become so, so boring, and fans need to get a grip.
It’s time to move on.
