An east London team who once had crowds of fewer than 50 are now getting 10 times that number with a new following from all over the world, and there is a political message to go with the football

The scene is unspectacular from a distance, a dilapidated shell of a building overlooking a pitch that has seen greener days. Supported by scaffolding, this crumbling non-league shed in the heart of east London would cause few passersby to pause for thought. If they did, though, the daubing within might pique their interest. Scrawled on pipes and the back wall are defiant words, phrases including: “Football without fans is nothing,” and: “Your heart is a muscle the size of a fist. Keep loving. Keep fighting.”

There are eye-catching stickers too, depictions ranging from Che Guevara to a celebration of the 1958 Wales team. There is graffiti paying homage to Málaga, St Pauli and Wrexham, but the most striking sight by far is an adaptation of the Barclays Premier League logo, with a soldier sat on a ball pointing a rifle.

A glimpse, then, into life at the Old Spotted Dog Ground in Forest Gate and the world of Clapton FC, a club formed in 1878 who play in the Essex Senior League (ESL), part of the ninth tier of the English pyramid. What has happened here in recent years must go down as one of the more remarkable tales outside the professional game, a movement where politics and football have become entwined.

Facebook Twitter Pinterest A Clapton fan shows their support, with the T-shirt slogan: ‘Sometimes anti-social, always anti-fascist’. Photograph: Frantzesco Kangaris/The Guardian

The club have a rich history, having won the FA Amateur Cup five times in the early 20th century and being the place where Walter Tull – one of Britain’s first black players who served as an army officer – began his career.

Clapton has changed somewhat over the years. Now, every other Saturday the aptly named Scaffold Brigada (Brigade) descend on their Graceland. They are hundreds of English, Italian, Spanish and Polish fans, individuals who share a love for Clapton and vehemently support the antifascist movement. Those with racist, sexist or homophobic views are not welcome here, an admirable stance that has attracted some undesirable attention; during pre-season they were attacked by individuals associated with the English Defence League before a match at Thamesmead.

Last season Clapton recorded an official attendance of 519 for one game, although the unofficial number was said to be almost 600. The average gate was just short of 200, dwarfing all other teams in the ESL who are a mix of amateur and semi-professional sides.

To put the figure into context, on the same day that Clapton were watched by 225 people against Enfield 1893 at the end of August, elsewhere in the division Eton Manor and Barking played out a 1-1 draw in front of 20 spectators. Home attendances this season are almost double those at the equivalent point in 2014-15.

Facebook Twitter Pinterest Supporters enter the Old Spotted Dog Ground, Clapton’s home since 1888. Photograph: Frantzesco Kangaris/The Guardian

“It started three or four years ago when a small group of friends wanted to support a local team who they could afford to watch every week,” says Dan James, a member of the self-styled Clapton Ultras. “A place without the corporate nature and restrictions of Premier League football, where you can’t stand up and it’s very expensive.

“The ultras tag is a tongue-in-cheek thing. We do have this political connection, a lot of people who come generally have not felt comfortable going to football elsewhere because of racism, sexism or homophobia.”

It may be a moniker born from jest, yet some Clapton fans certainly behave like ultras, albeit nonviolent ones. During their match against Enfield there was more than one “Capo” dressed in black at the front of the crowd, orchestrating chants behind them. There were also numerous flags on display, many reading: “Sometimes antisocial, always antifascist,” and one prominently placed that simply said: “Get in the sea Nazis.”

A few hours previously and this ground was a sedate corner in a bustling community. As the midday August sun beat down the only people present were volunteers, among them Gordon putting the nets up diligently before taking his place on the turnstile, with the manager, Mike Walther, laying out his team’s kit in the changing room.

The chief executive, Vincent McBean, was also an early arrival. McBean, dressed in a suit and easily distinguishable throughout the day, took one glance at the playing surface and hastily went in search of sprinklers. At first he struggled to get them functioning, the hose old and charred from when a nearby storage block was set on fire in the aftermath of the 7/7 London bombings, by unassociated individuals angry that Asians were allowed to play here.

Soon, however, McBean was content, water spurting erratically on to his parched turf in preparation for a second home league match of the campaign. “We need a win today,” says the chief executive of eight years, before discussing Clapton’s meteoric rise in support.

“Shortly after I first arrived this club was condemned by the Ryman League, we couldn’t play any football here,” says McBean. “The ground had work that needed doing before it could reopen. Now we’re looking for over 1,000 [fans]. What they like to do is come here and watch football at an affordable price in a safe environment. We have a lot of laughs, they ask me to spend more money. When we had our presentations last year the fans were singing songs about all the junior players, the under‑15s and others. It made them feel so good.”

Facebook Twitter Pinterest Vincent McBean, chief executive of Clapton FC. Photograph: Frantzesco Kangaris/The Guardian

In a pub nearby, those fans are beginning to gather. The ale is flowing and the noise rising, bubbling in anticipation ahead of their first Saturday home game of the season. One of the many Italian tifosi offers birthday cake to the throng, while a dark and potent-looking spirit is passed around freely.

“We are here because we love the atmosphere, having fun, chanting at the ground and drinking a bit,” says Matteo from Lecce. “It’s a bit like how it used to be in Italy in the 1990s. Having fun at the stadium in England is not possible, but here it’s pure fun. As well as this, there are all the social activities involved in the fight against racism, homophobia and sexism. All of us have a political background and we support these fights.”

Jesús, a young supporter of the La Liga side Rayo Vallecano who wanted to take up the left-wing cause in England after being involved in Spain, is similarly emphatic about Clapton’s work outside of football. “We were first attracted by the antifascist movement. We came down for a match, met all the people and saw the nice atmosphere,” he says. “We used to follow Vallecano and we miss that. They are doing similar things, so we thought we should follow this team.”

The incident at Thamesmead has not deterred these supporters, however unnerving it may have been. Clapton’s fans say they were warned of a potential far-right threat before that match – having previously been subjected to online hostility last season – but even they were not expecting to be jumped at the gates before a meaningless pre-season fixture.

The Metropolitan police have launched an investigation, describing the fracas thus: “100 people fighting and missiles being thrown. Many of those fighting were wearing face coverings and using weapons. One vehicle parked at the ground was damaged during the disorder.” McBean described the attack as grotesque.

Facebook Twitter Pinterest A Clapton Ultras sticker promoting donations to the local foodbank, specifically to help out refugees and migrants. Photograph: Frantzesco Kangaris/The Guardian

Kevin Blowe, a Clapton supporter involved in community projects, said: “Thamesmead was a very unusual incident and pretty alarming. We don’t go out of our way to seek that sort of thing, that’s not what we’re about. We don’t want confrontations with anybody.

“We do regular food bank collections, specifically for the refugee and migrant projects. It goes to people with no recourse to public funds, those who are shut out of state aid. We started doing it regularly last season and people have been amazing, bringing box-loads of stuff.”

Soon enough, Kevin, Matteo and Jesús are under the scaffolding, bellowing loudly along with 200 other comrades who have paid the £6 entry fee. Concerns of violence are a world away, replaced by ebullient songs as their side go ahead against Enfield.

The five opposition fans who have made the journey take the 3-0 defeat well, a comfortable victory set in motion thanks to an early, cool finish from Warren Mfula, a 25-year-old accountant. More noise follows as the score increases, from chants of “Forza Clapton” to songs about the Polish lager Tyskie. When the ball hits the back of the net for a second time, “2-0 and Maggie Thatcher’s dead” reverberates around the ground.

At the final whistle, Walther and his players – none of whom are paid by the club – congregate in front of the scaffold to show their appreciation. “It can be a bit of a surreal feeling when there’s so many here, normally at this level you are lucky to get 30-40,” said the manager. “Sometimes it can stop the players from being as focused as they should be, but at other times it can bring you back into a game if you are behind. Some players rise and others feel the pressure.”

Mfula is certainly one who excels in the limelight. The forward recently returned to Clapton following a spell at their ESL rivals Ilford and struggled to believe the swell in supporter numbers. He cartwheels in front of the supporters after the win, conducting their celebrations and embracing the post-match revelry.

Facebook Twitter Pinterest Clapton players celebrate with their supporters after the 3-0 win over Enfield 1893. Photograph: Frantzesco Kangaris/The Guardian

“When I came back to Clapton I was completely shocked. Before you could count the number of fans on your hand but now there are hundreds. I couldn’t believe it and didn’t know what was going on. They have songs for the players, they come down even in the middle of winter,” says Mfula.

“At this level, to have such support is unbelievable. We are very blessed. You feel like you’re playing in the Premier League, when you score and everyone’s singing your name it’s a lovely feeling. You don’t want the moment to end.”

The fans, who dismiss the notion that they are merely a group of football-keen hipsters, begin to disperse. Many will reconvene to continue the festivities, others heading home to reflect on three satisfactory points.

“I had been supporting West Ham all my life but I became priced out of modern football,” reflects another fan, Steve, deciding which watering hole the ultras should head to next. “It’s now a corporate business. But over the last few years at Clapton I’ve met the most amazing group of people.”