Di Canio at Farewell Boleyn

My West Ham Scrapbook | Paolo Di Canio

After joining the Club in January 1999, Hammers legend Paolo Di Canio made 140 appearances in the Claret & Blue, scoring a half-century of goals. On Wednesday, as he celebrates his 57th birthday, we look back on some of the irascible Italian’s iconic moments during his three-and-a-half years down West Ham way...

 

Redknapp redemption

I’m a genuine guy and was obviously wrong, when I pushed the referee, Paul Alcock, while playing for Sheffield Wednesday against Arsenal back in September 1998. I made a bad sporting gesture that day and, after receiving an eleven-match ban, knew I couldn’t stay in England.

Going home to Italy, I thought I would never be able to return to the Premier League, but Harry Redknapp then gave me an incredible opportunity to come to West Ham United. I hadn’t played for four months, and the newspapers wrote that, as a manager, he was bonkers for taking a big, big gamble on me. 

Harry just told everyone: ‘No! I’m bringing Paolo Di Canio into my dressing room. Can you imagine what it’s like to be able to pick a player like him?’ 

When I signed the contract, I said to my friend, Marco: ‘I’ve just been given a second life.’ It was an amazing and wonderful moment for me. 

I hadn’t had an easy time, so it was a fantastic situation to walk into a new dressing room after my very long suspension. I wasn’t an Englishman, I was just some Italian, guy but the lads were amazing to me from the first moment, and, of course, the Hammers supporters were brilliant right from the very beginning, too. Claret and Blue poured deep into my heart straight-away, and it’s never, ever left me to this day.

Looking back, it was like meeting that one person who you fall in love with in an instant. You still have to understand the good and the bad things about each other and learn all about their character, but somehow you just know you’re in love. 

West Ham United was exactly like that for me. I’d been reborn in some way.

Passport to Europe

West Ham were in eighth place in the Premier League when I signed, but Harry wanted to change the style and play more attractive football. He’d just sold John Hartson, a typically big, strong, British centre-forward, who held up play and attacked balls coming into the penalty box.

Coming on as substitute, coincidentally, I made my debut against Hartson’s new club, Wimbledon (0-0), at Selhurst Park on 30 January 1999, and we went on to end the season in fifth - the second highest finish in the history of the Football Club and West Ham’s best-ever in the Premier League. 

That meant we qualified for the UEFA Intertoto Cup, and I’d been so happy to help pay Harry back for that incredible opportunity he’d just given me. People were now admitting to him: ‘Harry, we recognise that you were right to sign Paolo Di Canio!’

There was now an opportunity for those Hammers fans to watch their team in Europe for the first time in nearly 20 years. For me, though, it’d been normal to play in those competitions in Italy, where I’d won the UEFA Cup with Juventus and seen our AC Milan squad reach the UEFA Champions League final, too.

After knocking out FC Jokerit (Finland) and SC Heerenveen (Netherlands), West Ham beat Metz (France) in the Intertoto Cup final (3-2 on aggregate) to qualify for the 1999/2000 UEFA Cup. Everyone felt the different atmosphere of playing in midweek under floodlights against teams from all over Europe. 

We created special memories to give to our travelling supporters, and it was fantastic to live some beautiful European moments with those Hammers fans. 

Bradford barnstormer

Saturday 12 February 2000 - West Ham United 5 Bradford City 4. Everything that could’ve happened in that game did happen. 

It’s still impossible to talk about everything, but with the Video Assistant Referee system, I would’ve had three penalties in the first half alone!

Finding ourselves trailing 2-4 early in the second-half, there was another incredible challenge, when a Bradford defender took both of my legs away. He hadn’t even touched the ball yet the referee (Neale Barry) still didn’t give me a penalty. 

Sure, it wasn’t good, but after that one, I knew that I’d now have to get myself off the pitch. Maybe, the referee had something against me, I don’t know? I could visualise him sending me off and thought: ‘I’ll end up damaging the whole team.’ 

Sitting down on the touchline, I looked across to the dugout saying: ‘Harry, please take me off. This is a bad moment!’  Harry replied: ‘No, Paolo. We need you on the field, please.’ 

The people were chanting my name, and I then thought: ‘Paolo, you can’t betray your supporters, you need to come back.’ I took a deep breath and told myself to keep my anger inside and wait for a good moment to turn things around. 

When we did finally win a penalty, Frank Lampard wanted to take it. For me, though, he wasn’t our regular taker. I’d been the one who’d been brave and assumed the responsibility for them all season, but now, we were wrestling for the ball against Bradford.

We were both arguing: ‘No, it’s me, who takes this penalty, not you!’ Eventually, I got hold of the ball, put it on the spot and scored, but as a man who cared about his teammates, running back to the centre-circle, I said: ‘Frank, you’re taking the next one, but before that, you’re going to score today’s winning goal!’ 

It proved a good prediction. And a lucky one, too. Joe Cole equalised, and then, with just seven minutes remaining, I ended up passing to Frank, who made it 5-4. That was a very beautiful moment, indeed.

Wimbledon wonder-goal

A quarter-of-a-century on, people still talk about the acrobatic volley that I scored against Wimbledon in March 2000. 

As strikers, we used to remain out there on the training pitches at Chadwell Heath, working seriously hard, practicing our attacking runs and ensuring that we arrived at just the right time to score a goal. 

We’d work out exactly where we wanted to put the ball, too. Near post? Far post? High into the top corner? Low into the bottom of the net? 

Then, for the last five minutes, we’d practice scoring the most spectacular goal that we could ever possibly imagine. Everyone just did what they wanted - it was invent what you like. Back-flicks, bicycle-kicks, trying to fly with both feet off the ground, anything went… 

If you practice, practice, practice, then things will remain in your brain just like when you’re at school having to write something time and time again. 

Against Wimbledon, it was all about the fantastic ball that Trevor Sinclair delivered to me from out on the right wing over by the Chicken Run. His millimetre-perfect cross gave me the opportunity to decide whether to kill the ball and take on the opponents standing in front of me. Or try the shot that I always used to practice week after week at the end of those training sessions?

The conditions were perfect, the sun wasn’t in my eyes, and Trevor’s pass meant that the ball was exactly where I needed it to be for a right-footed volley with both feet off the ground. 

It certainly wasn’t easy with the angle, and I only had a few centimetres to hit the ball past the opponent in front of me with the outside of my boot, but the timing was exactly right to create that shot, and, as Martin Tyler - the Sky Sports commentator - said: ‘It was a moment of striking perfection.’ 

Yes, it was a very good goal in my opinion, too, and I hope that special goal still lives in everyone’s memory, too.

A tale of two 'keepers

Having seen me catch the ball at Everton (1-1) in December 2000, people often ask whether I was trying to redeem myself for everything that happened with the referee in that Sheffield Wednesday versus Arsenal match, two seasons earlier. 

It’s always a perfectly good question to ask, but the answer is: ‘No.’  I certainly wasn’t thinking about winning a FIFA Fair Play award, when I did that. 

Inside every person there’s a small element of being a little devil, and - as I’ve said - I’m a genuine guy, who just made a bad sporting gesture that afternoon at Hillsborough.

Up at Goodison Park, though, Paul Gerrard had raced from his goal before collapsing on the ground and screaming in agony. 

Trevor Sinclair obviously hadn’t realised how serious the injury was, when he continued to play on before delivering another perfect right-wing ball to me.

At this moment, though, I thought: ‘No, Paolo. Stop! It isn’t fair to keep this going without Gerrard being in his position.’ He’d originally been in control of the ball, so he just didn’t have any reason to cheat.

There was no way that I was going to shoot towards a goal with no ‘keeper, so I just picked up the ball, instead. 

My decision proved to be the right one because Gerrard had destroyed his knee and was out for nearly three months. 

FIFA described it as: ‘A special act of good sportsmanship.’ When we met at Upton Park towards the end of the season, Paul also thanked me for my gesture. That was a lovely moment. 

After stopping play against Everton, it was a different story when we met Manchester United in the FA Cup fourth round six weeks later.

Sir Alex Ferguson’s side were a giant team back then, and although they were huge favourites to win the tie, it was still goalless, when we beat their offside trap with a quarter-hour remaining. 

Fredi Kanouté had fed the perfect pass to send me running towards Fabien Barthez’s goal with Frank Lampard racing alongside, screaming for the ball. ‘No, leave this to me,’ I shouted, but as I got towards the United goal, Barthez was like a policeman waving his arm, trying to stop me. 

Now, if we’d been out on the street then, as a good guy, I would’ve stopped for him immediately, but at this moment we were on the football field, so I decided to continue! 

I couldn’t ever have imagined getting an opportunity for a one-versus-one situation like that at Old Trafford. United’s trap simply hadn’t worked, and Barthez was trying to be clever by raising his arm and signalling that I was offside.

Coming from Rome, we will always score the goal first and then talk about it afterwards. I thought: ‘Paolo, just put the ball into the net, and then we’ll see what the linesman thinks about this.’ The flag stayed down, and my goal proved to be the winner. 

That was another incredible moment because 9,000 West Ham United supporters had travelled to Old Trafford, and it made a beautiful journey home for all of us.

 

Relegation regrets

I still feel the pain of relegation in 2002/03. Our team should’ve finished in the top six of the Premier League, not gone down. When you play for West Ham United, you feel the pain of the people, and, even today, there is a big responsibility both on my shoulders and in my heart. 

It’s so much harder to accept when you think about the passion of the supporters for their team. I still think about that season and have even more regret because for two months in spring 2003, I couldn’t play for the supporters. 

The Club didn’t want me to train with the rest of my teammates at Chadwell Heath, and they’d even said I could go back to Rome. I didn’t want to do that. Instead, I stayed in our home near Epping Forest and trained in my back garden. 

I wanted to be professional, stay fit and be ready to play for the team if anything ever changed. That garden wasn’t very big, and I used to have to do my shuttle runs up and down the lawn, taking each step like a tiny, little mouse! 

My wife used to look out of the window and say: ‘Paolo, just what are you doing?’ I’d tell her: ‘Never say never. I must keep myself fit in case West Ham need me back.’ 

Then, when Glenn Roeder became ill, Trevor Brooking took over the team for our last three matches. He telephoned me saying: ‘Paolo, would you like to come back?’ Immediately, I replied: ‘Obviously!’ 

In my first game, I scored the winner against Chelsea (1-0) to keep our survival hopes alive, and then, in our final match at Birmingham City, it was 1-1 when Trevor put me on the pitch, again. I scored, but we only ended up drawing 2-2, and that just wasn’t enough to save us from relegation because Bolton Wanderers had beaten Middlesbrough.

Walking off at St Andrew’s, I saw the face of every single West Ham fan. They weren’t angry with us; instead, they just clapped us off the pitch. We’d tried to do everything on the field in those last few moments, but it just hadn’t been good enough. 

If you are West Ham United through and through, then you feel the pain in your heart because you don’t want to leave when things are in a bad way. 

It still hurts when I look back at those events of 2002/03, but - here in 2025 – the Football Club has moved so far forward from back then, and I can see all the positive things that now lie ahead for those fantastic supporters.

Farewell Boleyn

I returned to Upton Park for the Tony Carr and Mark Noble Testimonial games plus the final Farewell Boleyn match, too. Each time, I received such a warm welcome, just like I do whenever I come back to London. 

I’ve still got all the videos of that last night against Manchester United (3-2). It was such an emotional evening and even more amazing to come back and beat a giant club like United in the Premier League.

It was not just the sadness of everyone leaving the football stadium after all those years but the personal memories that everyone took away from their times at the Boleyn Ground. 

There are thousands of stories to be told by thousands of supporters. I saw people in their eighties, who’d been Season Ticket Holders for so many years. They had tears in their eyes because they were leaving a part of their life behind in that stadium. 

People never went there to just sit down in a place like they would in a cinema or theatre - instead, their seat at the Boleyn Ground was like a chair in their own home. 

During the week they would sit indoors with family around them, and then, on Saturday, they’d sit at Upton Park with different people alongside them.

Just like home, they laughed together, they cried together and they had conversations about everything. 

A personal life and a sporting life go hand-in-hand - those Hammers supporters had one family at home and another in the stadium. 

You can see why it is never easy for anyone to leave their football stadium. 

Di Canio at Farewell Boleyn

There is a photograph of me on the pitch afterwards, and it simply speaks for itself - it says everything about that incredible night, and I thank West Ham United for giving me the opportunity to live those last moments at the Boleyn Ground with everyone. 

What a truly beautiful evening.

 

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