Since the arrival of Wael Al-Qadi and his new board of directors at Bristol Rovers, I have not written a great deal about the club. I haven’t really needed to. Within days, Mr Al-Qadi’s new chairman, the impressively thoughtful Steve Hamer moved decisively to unite all the club’s supporters. At a stroke, a decade of argument had been consigned to the dustbin of history. And even better, Nick Higgs, that most divisive and autocratic owner, a man who single-handedly steered the club into non league football whilst leaving behind a mountain of debt, was in the dustbin next door.
I am not going to waste too much time and energy raking over the ashes of Higgs. I met him on a grand total of three occasions and he was always unfailingly polite. His former board members now reveal that they disliked him more than just about anyone else but unlike those of us who could see what a mess the chairman was making of running the club, they sat on their hands and did nothing. Happily, they’ve gone too. And at least one of whom, a man who might have been something to do the money (or lack of it), is very unhappy he has been retired. Oh well. That’s karma for you. Bye bye, Toni. Make sure you get your coat on the way out and stay off those pasties now you’ve really retired.
The upturn in results is not a coincidence either, nor the rising gates and the dramatic increase in season ticket sales. The shackles of a shambolic one man show, Jack of no trades and master of none, have been shaken off. Nothing, in the words of Samantha Fox, is gonna stop me now.
In the final days of Higgs, the play offs looked an outside bet but with league games against already relegated York and Dagenham to come, automatic promotion is but a heartbeat away. What a difference a competent owner makes.
I realise that I might well be accused of hypocrisy here, especially given my previously outspoken criticism of English clubs being owned by foreigners. But what can I say now? What was the alternative?
The privately owned club model failed at Bristol Rovers and there was never sufficient enthusiasm from fans to take ownership. The only future I could envisage was another rich local autocrat coming along, with the promise of boom and bust, luck and chemistry and little else. If you had offered me a billionaire Jordanian as owner, I’d have laughed in your face, but now it has happened and I am not going to moan about it.
Speak with any Gashead now and the inferiority complex is going. The Memorial Stadium is a ramshackle old rugby ground with outdated facilities soon to be replaced by a state of the art modern stadium and we all know it is going to happen, unlike when…well, you know.
Promotion or not, this has been the year that the Gas emerged from the shadows. Still in the basement now, maybe still in the basement next season because there are no guarantees, but on the way up and on the way back.
