Ten years on from West Ham United’s emotional farewell to the Boleyn Ground, photographer Simon Peter Green revisits one of the most important nights in the club’s history through a striking collection of black and white photography. The Last Night At The Boleyn documents the final moments of a stadium woven into the identity of east London for more than a century. From Green Street to the terraces, the floodlights to the final whistle, Simon’s images preserve the atmosphere, emotion and belonging that made Upton Park feel like home for generations of West Ham supporters.
Presented in a beautifully designed A5 landscape photo book featuring 108 images, the project marks the 10th anniversary of West Ham’s final game at the famous old ground – a dramatic 3-2 victory over Manchester United on 10 May 2016, sealed by Winston Reid’s late winner.
“Walking down Green Street felt like going home.”
Simon Peter Green
I first went to Upton Park in 1971. I was ten years old. I stood behind the goal on the South Bank with my dad, my uncle and my grandfather. Three generations of Greens under the floodlights.
I don’t remember the game. I don’t remember the score. I remember the feeling. The atmosphere was electric and, from that moment, I was West Ham.
After the match we went to Bethnal Green Working Men’s Club. Packed out. People drinking, laughing, talking football. Back then the night didn’t stop at the final whistle. Supporting West Ham felt like belonging to something bigger than football.
That sense of belonging is what I miss most about the Boleyn Ground. The East End owned West Ham and we knew it. Walking down Green Street felt like going home.
My family’s connection to the club ran deep. My grandfather and uncle had season tickets from the 1960s into the late 70s. My uncle used to say he’d seen almost every West Ham game home and away during that period – England and Europe – and he had stacks of programmes to prove it.
As a kid, Clyde Best was my hero. Strong, fearless, unforgettable. Although my mum insists it was Bobby Moore because I spent the 1966 World Cup Final running round the house shouting his name. She’s probably right.
The 1975 FA Cup run will always stay with me too. I went to Southampton away at The Dell with my dad and family friends from London overspill estates. Proper West Ham people. We went on to win the cup that year.
Over the years there have been incredible moments. Vaz Tê at Wembley against Blackpool. But nothing touched the final game at the Boleyn.
I was there before kick-off helping lay the mosaic in the stands with my wife Cheryl while fans held up claret and blue cards spelling out “1904–2016”. The whole ground felt emotional long before the match even started.
Just before kick-off I somehow ended up pitchside near the dugout with my camera and no AAA pass. Nobody moved me. When the teams walked out, the place exploded.
That night had everything – emotion, history, noise, tension. It mattered because everyone inside that stadium understood what was ending.
But when I think about the Boleyn Ground now, my mind still goes back to the 1970s. Standing behind the goal with my grandad, my dad and my uncle. Three generations together, watching West Ham under the lights.
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