October 23, 2010 · 10:25 am

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…..

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.

So wrote Dickens in the opening lines of a Tale of Two Cities, a brilliant piece centred around the run up to the French Revolution and it’s immediate aftermath. Living in these times, ordinary people had been pushed to the point of no return, witnessing the excesses of the rich and privileged, they rose up and changed everything. That spirit of revolution spawned France’s national strap line ‘Liberté, égalité, fraternité’ and if ever we needed that DNA in and around football we need it now. Indeed whilst our French neighbours are making their views on ‘these times’ clear 21 miles away, we may well wonder if things have changed, for good or bad.
With France in social meltdown, our football is now approaching that nadir. Forget the situation at West Ham, that is bagatelle compared with what is happening at Portsmouth, Liverpool and the mighty Manchester United. In a few weeks everything has changed and ultimately I believe this will be for the good of football and its fans. But the public gets what the public wants.
Liverpool and Manchester United have one thing in common. Very much in common. Both were/are owned by businessmen who have borrowed a ton of money to ‘buy’ the club, the  money was easy, credit was everywhere and the good times flowed. Or did they? These clubs and mine, have been saddled by heavy debt and high interest rates effectively stopping them from being able to buy further success. Clubs owned by properly rich individuals – Manchester City and Chelsea – have been able to outgun both clubs in the transfer market. The youth teams of all of these clubs continue to produce players, but it seems that the clubs, their supporters and importantly fellow players are not patient enough to nurture the talent. Everyone wants a quick fix, immediate and continued success at all costs. Wayne Rooney has come in for a ton of stick this last week, and he does deserve some of it. But not all of it in my view. Here is a player who does care about his football and one who has seen the rot set in at Manchester United, the rot of the Glazer reign. Not only has he seen this, but Sir Alex Ferguson knows it. I am convinced that Rooney knows that times have changed and Manchester United under the Glazers will not be the same. They will not be able to buy talent in, not at least until the new rules about clubs having to make a profit come into play. Rooney will have passed his best by then. Ferguson would have laid down the gauntlet to Glazer and his family. Break the bank to keep his prize asset at the club or watch him leave to Manchester City or Real Madrid. Ferguson knows the regime, he is coming to the end of his reign and he will not like the methodolgy of these US businessmen one iota. Fair enough to play to the tune of the boss, if it is their money, but with people like the Glazers, Gillett and Hicks, it isn’t their money and their methods of ‘leveraging the brand’ have stymied the clubs royally. Given the new media world we live in, action and reaction take place at an unprecedented pace. The Glazers will not have expected to have a hike in their overheads at the beginning of the week, by the end of the week they have to find another £5m pa on their overhead. At least the extra cash may produce a result on the pitch, rather than an additional bonus to some Mayfair or Manhattan based hedge fund.
And then we see what has happened to poor old Pompey. A people’s club if ever there was one. I don’t know many Pompey fans anymore, but those I have known generally come from the area. We have seen a succession of chancers come and go on the South Coast. This bloke Gaydamark was another Abramovich, but substantially poorer. If these blokes are businessmen then Sonny Corleone is a puppy. Gaydamark ‘sold’ to some other ‘young entrepreneur’ Sulaiman Al Fahim (the fat geezer with a baseball cap who looked like he craved kebabs), who never had any money, it then passed to Al-Faraj who called in the administrators. A well documented mess of gigantic proportions and one that may result in Pompey being no more. Except it always will be a club so long as those supporters have the spirit. We are seeing it at FC United and at AFC Wimbledon, fan power makes a huge difference and surely that gives us all hope. I got an email from West Ham yesterday which talked about a club ‘owned by the fans for the fans’. I don’t think so. Until fans are given a seat at the table, permanently, football will always be subject to the whims of the free market. Historically fans are the ones who do not change, do not follow the money and above all care about that thing called their club. In these troubled times, we must not forge that.

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September 11, 2010 · 11:52 am

Secrets and Lies

Boy has my head been spinning for the last week or so. As always with ideas, just like Flick in Bug’s Life, my head is always full of them, but my moral compass has been under attack from polar energy.

I flew back from Edinburgh two Fridays ago in order to go to Lords for the England vs Pakistan Test Match. My life is just not right if I don’t get at least one visit to HQ in each and every season. I have not missed the Lords Test since I first started attending in 1975 and it was with some excitement that I went along to St John’s Wood. My very good friend, Rob, was taking his oldest son, Robson, for his very first Test. What a lucky boy, at 9 years old being taken to Lords by your dad. Apparently he had been so excited about this trip for weeks, that he had had trouble sleeping! I think Rob was pretty excited too.

Kirsty and I were late as my flight was delayed, and by the time we got in, England had lost 4 quick wickets and were on 54-5. Poor old Robson, his first morning at Lords and England had not done themselves proud. Mind you, down the years I have seen plenty of batting collapses, given the dominance of the West Indies in the late seventies and all the way through the eighties, and then the re-emergence of Australia from’89 onwards. Much like following our national football team, you have to have lows, plenty of them, to enjoy the highs. It’s a life sentence!

The second hour of the morning went off without issue with Prior and Trott bringing up the hundred before lunch. Other good friends were also in the ground, Simon, Olly, Jason, Keith, Gus, Tom and Doron so lunch was always going to be fluid. Robson was desperate to either get to the Lord’s Shop or get back to the game, but handled himself well and his patience was rewarded. But we missed 2 English wickets after lunch, and now with Broad and Trott at the wicket we were hoping for 150. The rest, as they say is history as a series of records were broken and the two batsmen amassed a 300 partnership. Quite simply amazing, emotional and uplifting. Besides it took out attention away from the merciless pigeon bombing that was going on in the skies above us.

Those pigeons soon cleared the seats around us, with the poor chap sat in front bombed three times before he called it a day. The upshot of all this was as we left, one of the gentlemen who had stayed his ground thanked Kirsty for talking to his 16 year old son and making him feel welcome. What a magnificent game cricket is and all those who support it. Or so I thought.

The rest for the moment is history. A News of the World ‘sting’ exposed possible spot betting fraud from 4 Pakistani players. England’s magnificent win and particularly Broad and Trott’s incredible stand had the gloss somewhat sanded off by this smear. The mood at Lord’s on Sunday morning seemed very black and all commentators felt a sense of sadness and anger.

A few days later the Red Tops did it again and ‘exposed’ Wayne Rooney’s extra marital daliances. All in the public interest you understand. All professional sport seems to have been spoilt by money. And the jealousy rife amongst the press merely exacerbates the situation. Dear old Mr Capello’s £6m per year wages seem to be the key to most of the ire from the media, I say that only because it is mentioned everytime he is mentioned. The members of the media have always seen themselves as kingmakers, guardians of the little secrets and lies that make their publications so irresistable. Witness this last week. The England football team had two convincing performances admittedly against weaker opposition this week, but nevertheless scored 7 and conceded 1. The media were not that noisy about the victories, and nor should they be, but imagine the deluge of abuse that would have come Fabio’s way if we had drawn both games? Indeed you don’t have to imagine too hard, just look at the abuse he got in the run up to the games. Out of order. The exposure of the potential Pakistani cheating will be a good thing for cricket, if it turns out to be based on fact and truth and the early signs are that it is, but if it is actually poppycock, well that will not be such a good thing.

If we could clear our national DNA of one thing, it wouldn’t be the cult of celebrity it would be the fascination with idle gossip fuelled by an underlying, dark, deep rooted envy. If those elements of the media were to concentrate on the facts, then our sporting world would be a little more, well, sporting. The days whereby the media were privileged to the inner sanctum of the sporting world are coming to an end. Information is free and secrets can no longer be secrets. Lies are always lies, but the age of truth is upon us. Let’s hope that leads to more honesty and better sport.

Meanwhile, I am off to see my beloved Hammers (Avram Grant or otherwise) take on the mighty Chelsea. Let’s just hope we get a break and can surprise a few people.

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August 21, 2010 · 7:14 pm

Same meat, same gravy

So here we go. 1 week into the new Premier League season and already it’s all happening but nothing is changing. The events are not really for the better, at least from my perspective. Aside from Blackpool’s unexpected and invaluable 3 points by way of the thrashing of Wigan, everything else was pretty predictable. That included the capitulation of West Ham at Villa, not for the first time I may add. All the bullish talk about a new era under Avram Grant from the West Ham Diddymen, turned out to be hot air. I did not go to the game, I did not listen to it, I did not even read about it. All I did was watch the 8 minutes of highlights on Match of the Day, one of the best lifestyle ‘Apps’ available on TV.

It just saves so much time. When I saw the teamsheet before the game, I knew it was all over. Had I paid good money and invested more of my life travelling to the game, I would have puked up on my Pukka Pie when I saw those four horrible words. ‘Boa, Morte, Faubert, Kovac’. Three ex internationals who have had, let’s say, their best days. Probably in Boa Morte and Faubert’s case when they were back home at summer camp. Avram, bless him, impressed us all when he decided to use Faubert as an ‘attacker, playing on the right wing’. Eureka, he must have read Curbishley’s hand over notes to Zola, given this bloke was bought for £6m as a winger who had played for France, but no one including Curbishley, at the club had ever seen him play. Indeed Arsene Wenger had advised him not to join West Ham, ‘for the benefit of his career’. Arsene has done his share of bollocks talk down the years, but I really wish his advice had been heeded on this occasion. For all of us.

What is it with these managers who pick the same rubbish players week in, week out? What are they watching? Are they all stupid? Clearly not. Zola was a footballer and could be a good coach one day. Surely he must have seen that Boa Morte and Faubert are simply not good enough. There is not a West Ham fan I know who thinks either have anything to contribute. Is it a case of the club, consciously or otherwise thinking ‘we are playing Luis 60k a week, we must get some value from him?’ is that the real reason? When money was loose, under our brief and damaging Icelandic Age, it was wasted. We are still paying the price for that approach. But fundamentally is it not the time for the football business models to change? What other (so called) profession or career indulges their people on 2 or 3 or 4 year contracts, effectively binding in players and clubs to a financial agreement that does not work for the club or the supporters who finance all of this. Before I get slated for this, it is my belief that supporters, active or otherwise support the whole business, even if it is through their expensive Sky TV packages. The days of the paying supporters funding clubs at the top level are well over, not that this made any real difference, but the pursuit of money by all involved has now incurred lasting damage on the game.

The Blackpool chairman Owen Oyston has resigned this week. Is that good or bad for Blackpool? I have no idea, but he has cited the frustration with the Premier League system. Agents are not known for their honesty, and what ever you think of Oyston, maybe he just does not fancy a season which ultimately will end in tears, just the way it did over at Turf Moor. The temptation to break the £10,000 a week ( ie £520,000 per year) wage ceiling must be strong, but he and everyone else knows that money will not guarantee success indeed it will only ever end up in tears.

Over at Citeh, the Arabs in charge have allegedly shelled out £26m on James Milner. To sweeten the deal with managerless Villa, Stephen Ireland has been sent the other way. Everytime I have seen Ireland play he has looked good. Citeh’s loss will be Villa’s gain. Ireland has cited ‘too many Citeh youth team players sauntering around the club with ten grand watches on their wrists, acting like they have played 200 Premier League games already’ as an indication of the effect of too much money. He is right. In all forms of life, unless you are a little hungry, things don’t happen. Too much money makes it too easy. You only have too look at what has happened at Realtime Worlds and APB in the games industry this week. £100 million spent and…..

Ranting? Yes. I started writing this on my way to West Ham and it gives me no pleasure to report that West Ham have shipped another 3 goals. Avram has continued to demonstrate that he has absolutely no idea how to manage a team, although he did at least drop Boa Morte and Kovac. But Faubert was moved to full back, the rest will be committed to the Rothmans Yearbook, or whatever it is called nowadays. Meantime Blackpool shipped 6 and Chelsea delivered 6 against hapless Wigan. I am sure Martinez will be sacked by the end of next week by way of retribution. Nothing changes.

It’s a mess and most people know it. I have many Man City mates and despite the hope, they all know that it will end in tears. Indeed they all know that deep down the failure does not kill you. The hope does.

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August 14, 2010 · 11:26 am

Money, honey, money

Saturday August 14th 2010

At home last weekend we had a problem. Put simply we had been
invaded, or more precisely, our bees had been invaded. Fear not, I am not yet so into bees that I have invested in hives, bellows and an all in one
beekeeper’s suit, but watch this space. No, 1 of the 2 naturally occurring bee hives in our house had been taken over by the world’s most useless and annoying insect, the wasp. As the sun came up the pesky wasps woke up and therefore so did we. The wasps made a bee-line (excuse the pun) for the window which is above our head, giving us the feeling that we were under attack. Worse than that, wasps seem incapable of actually following a simple lead. You open the window to let them get out and they keep banging against the closed part of the window. Why? Who knows, but such is their desperation to ‘go to the light’, they seem incapable of working out a route to escape and live, instead they kill themselves either from continually trying to break through the window or simply die through exhaustion. All in all, their instinct seems to be a major fail. They never seem to learn where the way out or forward is before they die.

When I heard the makeup of Mr Capello’s first squad since the debacle that was World Cup 2010, I was a little disappointed if I am honest. The mass clear out that I wanted had not happened, indeed some who had been cut were a little unlucky, Peter Crouch for one. My instinct would have be to retain Gerrard, Hart, Dawson, Milner, and Rooney and dump off the rest of them. Seeing Paul Robinson back as well as Wes Brown was confusing. It was therefore kind of both players to let everyone know that they had actually decided to retire from international football after all and would not be troubling the kit man. The mainstream media did their best to stoke up the debate, questioning why Mr Capello had not known that these two charges were not actually available. No change there then from the jolly old English media. Despite all of this, I decided that I would attend the game on Wednesday, as much as to see what sort of reception England would get as anything else, and to be present at the beginning of yet another new start.

Via Facebook I asked if anyone had a spare ticket and duly the lovely Barry Hatch got in touch and obliged. I decided to get to Wembley nice and early for once and avoid the pub. Barry had tickets for ‘Club Wembley’ which were very pleasant indeed. Comfortable seats, a modern bar come eating area and an atmosphere of civility. All ‘thoroughly modern’ football. I did notice that one of the rules of entry was that ‘no club colours were to be worn’. That rule obviously does not apply to ‘Club England’ but it did strike me as somewhat ridiculous, however as someone who never bothers with such things, it really doesn’t both me, even though my Kaizer Chiefs tracksuit probably broke the rule. Indeed, back in the ’80’s we would have loved that rule by the way, as no one actually wore club colours. A quick glance through the programme, which is included in the Club Wembley experience incidentally, only revealed that the FA are seemingly more desperate than West Ham, citing victory in Le Tournoi de France as one of England’s honours (a round robin friendly in which England beat France and Italy but lost, as usual, to Brazil).

The atmosphere 'early doors' was different

 

The atmosphere was pretty muted, but the FA had got one thing right. Tickets had been put on sale on the day and were £20 for adults and £10 for kids. The free market does rather suggest that the pricing policy, especially for friendlies needs drastic downward revision. As it turned out a crowd of over 72,000, including 1,000 from the services as guests, showed up to welcome the new boys and show the old boys exactly what they felt about the World Cup campaign. The thing is, us English don’t really know how to turn against our team. We are just too loyal, too supportive, maybe just too nice. If this had been Italy or France, I am sure the ‘welcome’ would have been a little more ’emotional’. There was a fair bit of booing pre-match, especially for messrs Terry, Cole A, Lampard, Rooney and Gerrard, much to the chagrin of the lad sitting in front of me with his England shirt on, who’s name must have been Terry. But as soon as the flags came out, borne by members of HM Forces (that was both a smart and a good move by the FA), the thousands gathered generally got behind the team. It was only as the half went on and the game descended into dreariness that the crowd expressed their displeasure and that is to be expected. Highlights? Very few really. Capello must have taken solace that Theo Walcott had not made the cut in May because he is clearly incapable of actually crossing or passing the ball when in possession. Indeed when I watched the highlights when I got home late, Gareth Southgate uttered the classic ‘Theo is an instinctive player, and when he has to think about it, it goes wrong’. If ever there was a more damning verdict on a footballer, I have not heard it. A further worry, or perhaps clue, for Capello is that Frank Lampard simply cannot play in the same position or team as Gerrard. Indeed Gerrard was playing in his preferred forward midfield role, with Rooney on his own up front. Something both players clearly relished. Meanwhile Lampard shuffled around in midfield doing very little and worse still looking like he could do very little in terms of adding value to the game. At Chelsea (and West Ham before them) he is sublime, magisterial, dominant and key to their success. For England he must accept that he is the bench warmer for Gerrard pure and simple. Adam Johnson flattered to deceive, managing to sky a nailed on chance, but my Man City and Middlesbrough mates tell me he is a good player, so I believe them.

Second half was better. Kieran Gibbs teamed up with Ashley Young on the left and we looked better. Bobby Zamora, who I love, but really is not top class. Then again who is, at least Bobby showed he cared and was prepared to try much like the dear departed Peter Crouch. As a friend said to me the next day, ‘maybe having a player who does value the honour of playing for his country is what you (for he is a Scot) need’. Amusingly I did say to Barry sitting next to me, that Zamora is a player who will miss the easy chances, but score absolute belters. Blow me, he almost made that prediction come true with his take on the chest, turn and left foot volley which shaved the bar. As the cliché goes, ‘if he was Brazilian, we would be talking about him for weeks’.

barry and Lee. Manchester City meest Sheffield Wednesday

Controversial moment of England’s night was of course Rooney’s substitution. Clearly not fit or at his best, he had a quiet game, but I genuinely believe the fans like to see him play. Whilst he is on the pitch, things can happen. So when he was substituted the fans booed, not him, but the fact that he was coming off. Rooney’s ‘Royal Wave’ gesture did not help, but a huge round of applause went up as he got closer to the touchline, Again on the highlights ITV decided to focus on one bovine fan booing Rooney, rather than the majority clapping him. Whoever that director was should take a look at him or herself and ask were they actually doing the right thing?

Goals – yes three. 2 great, 1 not actually a goal. The 2 Gerrard scored we Liverpool class. That must be a good sign! But the result was secondary. Gerrard rebuilt his reputation and looks like the skipper we need. Take note number 6, your time is definitely up. Did Capello insult David Beckham by ‘calling time on his international career’?. No. He was telling the truth, answering the question, simply stating that Beckham is probably a little too old now.

I thought it was World Cup '02 all over again

Biggest lesson not learned on the night? Chucking money at a problem will not help. If anyone has been to Wembley for a night game, you will almost certainly have experienced the nonsense congestion and tedious queuing that you have to endure to get back on the public transport system. Despite the FA spending £750,000,000 they did not have, the experience is absolutely shocking. Without a proper review of the infrastructure supporting the National Football Stadium, we have chaos. A few new purple lights at Wembley Stadium station, an underpass at Wembley Park plus a ‘one way system’ at Wembley Central do not make for improvements that are meaningful. The site is still a morass of confusion, half light industrial, half wasteland. Money alone does not solve the problem, indeed money can cause problems. The FA are now unable to make decisions because of financial constraints caused by project Wembley and fans are saddled with high admission charges for matches. The need to monetise the stadium to be ‘all purpose events arena’ has led to pitch quality problems which are well documented. The players who have been playing for England do not see this as the pinnacle of their career, that lies elsewhere, probably over in The Champions League. Too much money has coloured judgement. Players, clubs, agents, the FA and the media have formed that bee-line and headed for the light. Trouble is, the pursuit of money at all costs, has left the once beloved game a tad tarnished. Maybe in this new age of austerity, we will see players who do want to graft and do consider it an honour to play for their country, whether it is England or otherwise, come through and show us that they care as much as we do.

But take note. As The Premiership prepares to open today and with the latest set of obscene spending showing no signs of receding, especially down Manchester way, we may need to seek players who ply their trade outside of that arena or maybe from the lower echelons of the Priemership, if we are to get back to some basics. Zamora aside, we can but hope.

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July 26, 2010 · 7:48 am

Home Grown?

So the Premier League’s new squad cap rules come into play this season and the headlines make for good reading if you are an England fan, or indeed Scotland, Northern Ireland or Wales.  A lovely little phrase is present with the Premier League’s wording, one to lure us all and make us feel like the game is no longer being commercialised and raped beyond all levels of decency. That phrase is ‘home grown players’. It feels like the equivalent of John Major’s ‘warm beer and evensong’ doesn’t it? I bet some big hitting lawyers have earned some big hitting fees definining that innocuous and friendly sounding phrase. Far from it being a reference to illicitly made, but generally harmless narcotics, it seems like it has been selected to appease and encourage all football supporters who fear for the future of a game geared soley around a club’s ability to pay for talent.

The wording of the rule is interesting:-

Every Premier League club has a squad of 25 and that number is capped. Of these 25,  8 must be ‘home grown’. Sounds great doesn’t it? But what is the definition of ‘home grown’. Well that is simple enough. A ‘home grown’ player is ‘one irrespective of age or nationality, who has been registered with any club affiliated to the Football Association or Foootball Association of Wales for a period continuous or not of 3 entire seasons or 36 months prior to his 21st birthday or the end of the season in which he turns 21′. Does it remind you of the rules attached to meat classification – reared n the EU but slaughtered in the UK’. Clubs will be able to supplemement their squads with additional players under 21 (defined as under 21 on 1st of Jan in which the season commences). Changes to the squad list of 25 may be made during the period of the Transfer Window. Clubs have to declare their 25 players by the end of the Transfer Window (ie 31st August) and then again by the end of the January Transfer Window.

So don’t be fooled. ‘Home’ refers to the club not the country,  I am pretty certain Luis Boa Morte is ‘home grown’. Granted the system should and probably will encourage clubs to invest in more young players in order to beef up their squads, especially once the injuries set in and European football takes its toll. But think about why this rule has come in.  Just think about who will really benefit from these new rules. Clubs can’t put a system of wage or salary caps in, it is after all against the free market, free wheeling Sky fed model and besides players and agents would be up in arms heading for Terminal 5 quicker than you could say ‘Robinho’.

 Premier League chairmen preside for the most over businesses that have a fundamental broken model. Far from the ‘Broken Britain’ that we keep on hearing about, we all know that we definitely have ‘Broken Football’. Everything changed in 2003 when the ‘rags to riches’ ‘ entrerpreneur’ Roman Abramovich bought Chelsea. Most people know that Roman’s wealth is massive, although many wonder if it has been truly earned through hard work and innovation. Suddenly the old guard of Liverpool, Manchester United and Arsenal were playing catch up. There was a new force on the scene and one which was going to become successful, after years of mediocrity. Chelsea had entered the big league and so long as Roman’s money was there, they would be taking up one of those precious ‘Champions League’ slots, the ones which make the clubs all the money and vitally, get them all the ‘brand exposure’ that they both need and crave. The stakes had been upped, and it seemed the only way clubs could compete was through spending more and more money. And it was. But to spend big, you had to have the cash or at least the access to the cash.  Both Liverpool and Manchester United changed ownership in a bid to match Roman’s Blues, although the choice of owners was questionable to say the least. A few Americans who knew little about football and even less about English football leveraged the clubs with massive debts, something which both clubs and their fans are suffocating from right now. Wily old, privately owned Arsenal stood and watched, and primarily because they have always been prudent and because they have a single minded, myopic, but ultimately a brilliant talent spotting manager, spent less. But they won little in the process. The relationship between success as defined by winning the League or the Champions League and available cash has never been so close. However, the storm clouds of debt were gathering, and even Roman could see that this ‘football drug’ had it’s downside, declaring that he wanted Chelsea to be self sufficient in future and the money he had put into the club was only ever a fully recoverable loan.

These owners and charimen knew that things had to change, they simply could not afford the spiralling debts incurred by the ever increasing wage demands players and agents. Has anyone analysed the inflation multiple in players’ wages since 2003? In an age of transparency, we should be able to know the actual wages all players earn. Indeed, what professional class has salaries quoted in weekly amounts rather than monthly amounts nowadays. How very flat cap and working class!

And then BANG, 5 years after the Roman, along comes  Sheikh Mansour bin Zayed Al Nahyan, owner of the Abu Dhabi United Group, and now owner of Manchester City. The bar was raised again, and raised smack in the middle of the global financial crisis. 19 other Premier League chairmen were looking down the barrel of an Arab gun. The Abu Dhabi United Group did not rely on leveraged debt, they had cash and plenty of it. Cash for gold, black gold.

So you see, these new rules are nothing to do with helping the English (or Welsh) national teams do better (and Scotland and Northern Ireland not at all). They are all to do with money just as they always are.  Limiting the squads to two full teams not only limits clubs like  Manchester City and Chelsea from ‘warehousing’ all the talent and thus choking the supply to their rivals, it also limits the cash the second tier have to spend.   Allowing clubs to boost their squads with younger and therefore cheaper players, or more accurately players who cost less in wages, utimately means that the ‘Broken Football’ model gets some new life and potentially a new direction. Is this a good thing for football ?  Yes, I think it is. After all Richard Scudamore, Premier League chief, said ‘ it is to protect the viability and sustainability of the clubs’ . But these new rules and their cosy language are there to do just that. Nothing more, nothing less. If England’ s team benefit great, but don’t be taken in by the language, the spin and the branding of these changes. Home grown? I think not.

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July 25, 2010 · 11:18 am

My, My, Hey, Hey…….

It’s a  funny old world and maybe sometimes we just look for connections, because they are there, we think they are there, or just because we want to. In an webworld full of  infinite words and available knowledge, these connections become more frequent, daily. Yesterday evening, 24th July 2010, I was sorting out a few plants in my garden, the ones which had really  not recovered from the hot weather in June.  Hot weather we had missed, for June saw us in South Africa for the World Cup and thus there was little watering intervention happening in the Payne garden.  So, there I was with iPhone in my ears,  left hand flicking through some music, right hand struggling with an over-heavy watering can.

So I settled on Peter Gabriel’s ‘Scratch My Back’ album, which is a beautiful collection of covers the great man has selected. He sings his version of someone else’s song on this album and in return the original  artist sings one of his songs, on a different album.  First up on shuffle is ‘My Body is a Cage’, originally by Arcade Fire. Naturally enough after that epic,  I decide to listen to the original again which of course is equally amazing. Deciding to switch to an Arcade Fire half hour I get the pleasure of  ‘Intervention’. The amazing Bach like opening sequence, complete with a wondeful church organ is a prelude into the the most wonderful song and accompanying set of lyrics.  Curious as ever about their possible meaning, I decided to look them up, whilst watering and stumble upon a forum discussion about their likely meaning(s). Sure enough, I then spotted a reference to ‘Intervention being a protest song ala Bob Dylan’s Hurricane’ . For old times sake, I gave  ‘Hurricane’ a digital spin and once that wonderful tune faded out, like immediately afterwards. I decided to pop over to Twitter to see what’s up in the world. What’s the first post I read? From @montymunford ‘That was the story of the hurricane – too much booze. RIP Alex Higgins’ .

 So the man who had got me and my mates into snooker had finally faded away, indeed his burn out had been slow and tortuous. This was the  man who had shown his emotion when winning the Embassy World Professional Snooker Championship in May 1982 the same year as my first ever World Cup ‘live’.  I watched that snooker final with some of  school mates, Keith, Gus and Dom and we lived on a diet of music,  Grape Nuts and beer. 3 weeks later I had kicked my exams  off the menu, threw some shorts and T-shirts in an Adidas bag and boarded the Magic Bus (yes it was the name of a coach company) bound for Bilbao. This year  I spent a fair bit of the World Cup with Keith and Dom and although Gus could not make it, he was there in spirit.

The Hurricane was the man who made snooker, the old man’s game exciting, the man who had put the real colour into snooker. A man who made it an adrenaline sport for the viewer. A man who literally kept you on the edge of your seat whilst he moved around the table like a hustler with a nervous twitch . The second greatest boy genius from Belfast. And like his sporting brother, a frustrating genius, who never really achieved as much as his potential suggested he might,according to the media. But maybe he did and maybe that day in 1982 lives in the memory precisely because it was his pinnacle, achieved before the booze, fags and cocaine rendered him ‘past his best’. If there is a lesson there, then some if not many will never learn from it.

 My, my, hey, hey – Alex Higgins really did come out of the blue and went into the black, but this time let’s hope he is not forgotten.

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July 15, 2010 · 3:36 pm

J’Accuse

This title, which has become part of the English language in a particular  famous letter printed by French newspaper L’Aurore in January 13th 1898 penned by Emile Zola. Now this name is made up of 2 unique  names, both of which we associate with football, and close, it must be said to my heart.

Gianfranco Zola, the wonderful footballer and possibly the nicest man in football disgracefully treated by the new owners of West Ham, messrs David Gold and Sullivan and Emile Heskey, the England footballer who has just announced his retirement from international football.

J’accuse the owners of West Ham and J’accuse the world for the abuse heaped on poor old Emile. He is not the best footballer in England,  he does not possess the finest of touches and does not read the game in the same way as players such as Shearer and Sheringham, but at least he always tried. How must he feel time and time again in the run up to an international game. It starts with his selection as a squad member, always universally met with howls of derison from the media. Then, heaven forbid, he gets picked for a game and the media and the fans howl again. If he is substituted, he is often seen off to a chorus of disapproval. Worse still his name is used in a song sung by the fans in an attempt at irony, ‘ 5-1 and even Heskey scored’ , doubly ironic as this was the baiting cry that heradled the opening exchanges between English and German fans in Bloemfontein a few weeks back. His goal scoring record is worse than Rene Higuita and Jose Luis Chilaver, both internationals for Columbia and Paraguay respectively, and both goalkeepers.

So he has tied his last international bootlace up and will never be seen in the England colours again, unless Robbie Williams tempts him one more time for Soccer Aid.  I bet he is actually relieved to be away from the whole furore. Let’s face it, all he ever did was agree to play, and that many managers have picked him, from memory Capello, O’Neill, Bruce, Houlier, Eriksson, McClaren, Keegan and more it goes to show that there is consistency. So don’t blame Heskey, please. It’s like picking a one armed pianist to play at your wedding, whilst you may get the semblance of a tune, it will not be balanced or indeed what you were expecting. What it does highlight is one, simple fact. England just do not have many good forwards and given that the heir apparent to Heskey is either Darren Bent or Gabriel Agbonlahor, well it a’int going to get better before it stays the same or even gets worse.  J’accuse the system that simply does not produce footballers who have technique over power, touch over pace, balance over strength and intelligence over brawn. Emile, I salute you, you did your best and that’s that.

One last thought. My approach to the current England football team is not to drop them all and start again, yet. Rather Capello should pick the same 11 that started against Germany, barring Emile and anyone else who announces their retirement from international football and let them face the few who pay good money to attend the ‘friendly’ against another faded nation, Hungary, on August 11th. I for one will be attending that game, and it will be very interesting to see what actually happens that night. Hungary arguably showed England the way to play in1953 when they thumped us 6-3. We are one game on from year zero, so let’s indulge the old regime one last time and start afresh after the fans who travelled to support their team in South Africa have had their catharsis. That or change the whole lot at half time……

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July 12, 2010 · 2:49 pm

The Legacy of the World Cup

Not my words but the words of Peter Delonno from Business Report. Incidentally the British couple mentioned at the foot of the page under Cyberspace is in fact Kirsty and I. Funny old world. Enjoy!

http://www.busrep.co.za/index.php?fSectionId=552&fArticleId=4102101

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July 12, 2010 · 11:31 am

A Fitting Finale, if not Final

So the end of the World Cup happened and we have to wait another four years before we can enjoy it all over again. Now this may not seem like a long time to those of you young enough to have your best years ahead of you, but to us older types, the years are increasingly precious and we don’t know how many more we will be able to attend. I would hope to still be attending well into my seventies and beyond. For some this will probably be the last, and for Nelson Mandela surely the oldest man in Soccer City last night, his appearance before the game capped a near perfect tournament. If the football had been better, it would have been a perfect 10, that’s for sure.

Watching on TV is never satisfactory, and if England had made the final, we would have been there, unlikely as that event would have been of course. Some good friends had been lucky enough to have made the trip, David who I cycled with earlier this year on the Dallaglio Cycleslam, Ian who climbed Kilimanjaro with the rest of us in 2004 and Dom, with whom I went to school and who was the host with the most whilst we were in Johannesburg and I am sure they would have sucked in the atmosphere, which I know would have been electric. But to be there, in that stadium in Soccer City, when Nelson Mandela was driven in on his little golfing buggy across a white carpet, well that must have been a very special moment, and boy did Madiba have the biggest smile in the whole world. He must have been so proud, so pleased and above all so happy that his beloved land had delivered this the biggest sporting tournament in the world. Whether or not FIFA had put this old, frail man who will be 92 next week under pressure is another story ( as they say in South Africa). Rather fitting that he did not stay for the matchthen, as it really did not do anything to enhance the reputation of the so called beautiful game. Indeed another ‘leader’ looked on whilst the battle between the total footballers of Spain and the Total Cloggers of the Netherlands played out. One Robert Mugabe. Hero of Zimbabwe in 1980, now pariah of Africa. What exactly that evil man was doing there is anyone’s guess. If FIFA invited him, shame on them. If South Africa invited him, shame on them too. The only black mark in this whole tournament was his presence at this final.

The game was absorbing if ultimately disappointing. Spain’s football is sublime and in Iniesta, Xavi, Busquets and Alonso they have a quartet that not only pull every string, but make every string sing. Not since Brazil 70 have we seen such masters.

This was a victory for the little man. Even their power house at the back, Puyol is shorter than would be accepted in the English leagues and plays with his heart on his sleeve. With his distinctive locks, resembling Tony Iommi or David Coverdale circa 1976 (ironically in the times of the truly great Dutch footballers), he was an inspiration. Spain hold the ball and as my co watcher last night Steve said, ‘they are not afraid to go backwards’. By contrast Holland decided to become the new West Germany. No shortage of skill was secondary to pure muscle and more often than not overt aggression. Van Bommell plays like Graeme Souness without the touch and De Jong is like Jimmy Case. One attack on Alonso begged the question ‘was De Jong a big Bruce Lee fan as a kid’ karate, or otherwise, and De Jong was lucky not to be sent off before half time. Indeed the martial arts approach was contagious with Schneidjer auditioning as Cato for an episode in the Green Hornet. I bet Howard Webb wondered what he had walked into last night.

A moment of sublime brilliance from Spain’s biggest bit part player, Fabregas, a man who would walk into any of the other thirty one teams taking part, was met equally by one from the diminutive Iniesta, who for me was the man of the match, despite some journalists and commentators stating he had had a poor game (?). The cup was Spain’s and they swapped shirts from blue to red (with a star of course) as is their tradition – I have now found out – but a significant departure from World Cup tradition, I may add. A future trivia question will be what is unusual about the picture of Spain receiving the World Cup in 2010. Add in ‘who was the only unbeaten team in the tournament’ and children not yet born will never guess it was the part timers from New Zealand.

Faced with BBC TV coverage, ITV was frankly beyond the pale, it was evident that Lee Dixon, Alan Hansen, Alan Shearer and Gary Lineker had all been impressed by the people and the country that is South Africa. They were all visibly moved by the appearance of Mandela and all pleased that Spain had won. On a night where good triumphed over bad (barring one certain Robert Mugabe’s presence of course), the BBC ended their coverage with a District 9 style cinematic piece. Whether you thought it was cheese or not, and I did not, it did point to the questions that remain. Those of legacy, inequality, poverty and social justice. District 6 has long gone, but let’s hope its legacy is going now. Indeed let’s hope the World Cup 2010 is the kick start that all of Africa needs in this ever competitive world dominated by the new colonial powers of multinational globalisation.

South Africa – wave your flag with pride and belief. Well done.

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July 11, 2010 · 5:29 pm

The Final Act

As the final act of a wonderful World Cup is upon us, one thing is certain; a new name on the trophy. And a new name on the map. South Africa and Africa in general has been the winner. Let’s hope the best football team wins it tonight. It is sure to be a classic. One of THE best World Cups ever in terms of atmosphere and feeling.

Loads more in my note book, just need some time to write it all up….story of my life really.

PS – And Madiba, Nelson Mandela is there. Fabulous. Absolutely brilliant. I wish I was there!

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