Great weekend - crap football, closing in on the 92

 

Going for the 92 has become a genuine and real possibility. I've done all the clubs in the present Championship, having reclaimed Southampton yesterday. Previous trips to The Dell were pretty mixed to be honest, but there was nothing mixed about a 4-0 defeat. 

We were well beaten, as my pal Trevor summed up much better than I could: "They were better than us from the first minute to the last. 2-0 would have flattered us and I thought we’d got away with it when they missed the penalty. Hard to think of anyone who played well - maybe the keeper even though he was the blame for the fourth goal. Hill and Moran strikingly poor. Travis and Garrett improved things a little with more energy. JDT had written off the game when he took off A Wharton and Trondstat. Our season won’t be defined by games against Leicester or Leeds or Southampton."

We went down for a weekend in the most Tory town I've ever stayed in - Winchester. They even sell those wide rimmed felt hats that Tory ladies wear with a shawl, accompanied by a fellah in red chinos.

Seriously, it was a lovely weekend away, and even the experience of the poor Rovers performance was tempered by the whole stadium experience.

It saddens me a bit how far behind Southampton we are as a club. There were 27,000 on yesterday and a tidy 1300 from Rovers, but the scale of the operation and the crowd had a Premier League feel about it. I don't get that at Ewood. 

I've been to loads of these new out-of-town bowls and this was OK. Pie was pricey, but tasty, it wasn't too far away from the station and the centre, and the stewards were some of the most polite and helpful I've witnessed. 

Anyway, it was the 79th of the current 92, completing the Championship and needing only a trip to Brentford's new stadium to sweep the current top two divisions. It was also the 172nd ground I've paid to watch football in.

I reckon I'll try and get a few more done this season and keep hoping that crap southern towns in League Two drop out and get replaced by ones I've done. 

Leicester ticked off at last - and in some style

My 78th ground of the current 92 was Leicester City's King Power stadium, which I went to with my Foxes supporting pal James Armstrong and witnessed a shock win for Blackburn Rovers in the FA Cup.

It was a great atmosphere and a packed away end, which was helped in no small measure by the performance.

As stadiums go it was nothing special as a new build. Location wise it's within reach of the city centre, rather than stuck out on a retail park like some of the new builds are.

A football weekend in Portgual

We really loved our city break to Porto in July, but probably saw less of the city than we would have done as it was so hot and we discovered a great beach suburb - Foz - just north of the city. 

 One of the highlights though was the FC Porto museum and stadium tour, which whetted our appetites for a return to an actual game. I got the sense that FCP were a bit like Barcelona - more than a club, but a symbol of their city's defiance of capital dominance. So much of the museum exhibits seethed with indignation at age-old injustices, refereeing decisions and scandals. 

And so as we plotted a return it might as well have been Porto v Benfica, O Classico. We paid over the odds for tickets from a risky touts website but it was worth it. All told it was an incredible spectacle if a little more sedate and less aggro than one might have expected. The result (0-1) and the sending-off for the home team reinforced their deep sense of grievance. But Portuguese football is good. There was some great football at times, you can see why they’re both competing so well in the Champions League this season. 

We then fancied looking into another game to make it a weekend of football tourism. We got on a local train to historic Guimares and took a trip to see Vitoria SC v Boavista FC, Porto's other team. If the O Classico was a top Premier League clash of the giants, this was a slightly aggy semi-derby (say, Wigan v Blackburn Rovers) and it even rained incessantly. What a game though. Sending off, a penalty, mistakes aplenty, aggro, pyro and the best possible result in any football match, 3-2. 

These trips also represent the 167th and the 168th stadiums I've watched football on. The Groundhopping adventure continues.

The search for modern England

I’ve been thinking a lot recently about England, not the recent disasters of the cricket team, or the resurgence of the football team under Gareth Southgate, but the country of England. The largest, most dominant, and most significant part of the United Kingdom, and what it stands for. Even though we’ve emerged from the four-day celebration of the Queen’s Platinum Jubilee (I bet you all lost track of what day it was), our country feels a little more divided and a not very United Kingdom.

Scottish identity is once again surging and self-confident. Welshness is rooted in language and culture, and like the Scots, fuelled by grievance.

The Irish question seemed to have been solved by the single market for trade with Europe and a careful tolerance of individual identity embedded in the Good Friday Agreement. That looks under grave threat. A united Ireland may soon have to accommodate a belligerent unionist minority in its northeastern corner.

But should all of that happen, what of the England they would leave behind? Unlike the devolved nations it has no parliament of its own, all of the institutions of England are just the same as the British state, but with bits lopped off.

What is English music? What is English food? An English temperament, or character? But before you answer those questions, what is different from how you would describe British things?

At the height of the Euros last year one of my Mum’s neighbours displayed a massive England flag outside his house and defiantly asked her - “does it offend you?” I found that fascinating. Public displays of Englishness as a rebellion against nice people. Or a yearning for better yesterdays.

The so-called comedian Stewart Lee has a whole routine built around the outrage of a taxi driver who claims he couldn’t claim English nationality on his passport application form: “These days you get arrested and thrown in jail just for saying you’re English” (look it up).

But they are grotesque caricatures and oddities, which bring us no closer to what is different about being English, as opposed to British. 

Journalist Jason Cowley has written a very thoughtful book Who Are We Now? Stories of Moden England that tries to capture who the English are through a series of encounters with people who made the news in the last two decades. Often times these are unlikely heroes or ordinary people thrown into the public spotlight in dramatic, often tragic circumstances. They include a Chinese-born man who survived the drownings in Morecambe Bay, the Rochdale pensioner who schooled Gordon Brown on the facts of life in a northern town and was dismissed as ‘some bigoted woman’, and the London bodybuilder who scraped a racist man off the pavement and saved him from a kicking at the hands of a Black Lives Matter protest.

Cowley pulls together a compelling set of stories about what their experience speaks of England today.

But I kept thinking that slipping in an encounter in Wrexham or Stranraer might seamlessly add to the tapestry and say something about what it is to be British instead, but I think we’re way past that point, and no clearer about what England represents. 

The closest Cowley comes to a clear definition is what he calls Southgateism - embodied by the proud and patriotic England football manager - who also pulls a diverse team together to take the knee against racism. But I think there are dangers in reducing a national identity to the roars of support for sport.

I think too of the hedonistic supporters before the Euro 2020 final at Wembley fuelled by booze, drugs and belligerence, one of whom mounted a distress flare from his naked backside. You don’t see other nationalities doing this and I’m sure he’s got a story to tell about what being English means to him. And I think if he asked my Mum if that offended her, she’d say yes, it does.

Why music and football matter

Why do some places have a good feeling about them, while others seem stuck in a cycle of decline? 

I asked this in my column in the Tameside Reporter and Glossop Chronicle this week. And I was also curious as to what music, sport and culture have to do with levelling up of a place? 

The government spent 350 pages of a policy report mulling over this point, before sprinkling on some nonsense about medieval Florence. I wrote about it at the time for Big Issue in the North, and frankly, if anything, I probably overstated how weak the government's commitment was to this agenda.

Yet for people at the coal face of local government, where urban regeneration and business intersect, the work goes on. For the last few months I've been immersed in this world in my work for the Leader of Stockport Council, seeing up close how committed groups of people can achieve positive change often against stacked odds.

What I'm about to say isn't civic boosterism, but it does show the importance of some key 'feel good' elements in how a town can think about the future. As I was writing for the Tameside paper I pointed out how two of the neighbouring boroughs of Tameside have suffered conflicting fortunes in recent weeks, highlighted by their football teams. 

Oldham Athletic have been relegated from the English Football League and into the National League. They also suffered the ignominy of being the first club to have played in the Premier League to then drop out of the 92. 

They have been torn apart by terrible owners and have developed a fractious relationship with their supporters. 

Oldham has been dealt a bad hand lately. Racial tensions have come to the fore again during the local election campaign, where Arooj Shah was the latest leader to lose her seat on the Council after a concerted and highly personalised campaign against her. 

I went to the launch of a review of Oldham’s local economy recently where some home truths were aired. Committed local leaders involved in the Oldham Economic Review Board were honest enough to recognise what Oldham lacked, and some of that came down to a sense of a direction. According to experts from the University of Manchester, two of the important factors in how a town feels about itself are “civic pride” and “social fabric”. The latter feeds the former.

In contrast, Stockport County have won the National League and will be replacing Latics as part of their march back to becoming a proper football club again. They have enjoyed sell-out match days, and it’s no coincidence that the club is run by a local businessman, Mark Stott, who enjoys a good relationship with the Council and the local community. 

In the summer of 2019, a major concert at the Edgeley Park stadium featuring local heroes Blossoms symbolised Stockport’s self-confidence. 

It has a clear identity that is comfortable with its relationship with Manchester - Brooklyn to Manchester’s Manhattan, the council leader Elise Wilson is fond of saying.

I don’t exaggerate when I say that Blossoms have been a major cultural lift for Stockport. The band and their families are even using their cultural power to invest in new ventures in the town, clothes shops, bars, salons, and supporting other bands. It’s all about wanting to put something back into the town that has contributed so much to their own identity; they’re not Blossoms from just outside Manchester, they are Blossoms from Stockport.

Manchester’s onward march as a city attracting businesses and retaining graduates is because of its own rich cultural assets. The city invested in an International Festival precisely to make it culturally attractive and known throughout the world. A rich musical history and two enormous global sporting brands add to the allure.

People cherish things that they have lost in the communities, and can't always understand why they've gone. A flourishing town centre is one, pubs, workplaces, theatres and sports clubs are examples of others. By the way, as well as sporting and musical assets, one of the other things that make people feel good about a place is lively independent media.

For what it's worth, the evidence from what I've seen in my recent deployment in Stockport, and from what I know of the people behind the deep thinking in Oldham, they are making steps in the right direction. But it is against a backdrop of precarious funding, disinformation, government drift and disruptions to local leadership. It's never been more important to hold places together as we step into an uncertain future.

The FA Cup Odyssey takes me to the best stadium in the land

Watching the scores roll in on the Saturday afternoon of FA Cup third round weekend captured every single bit of magic and that clear hope (and dread) of a footballing upset. Every fan of any team cheered the efforts of Cambridge, Kidderminster, Huddersfield and Wigan, except of course if your team, like mine, was one of the vanquished.

And so to the progress on our FA Cup odyssey, picking up on the trail that started at Radcliffe and had most recently found itself most romantically in Buxton. I said I would persist as long as I could. And though there was no room at the inn for the second round tie between the Bucks and Morecambe, it was on telly, and I had bagged the bonus of Buxton’s replay win over Kettering. That was, as I said at the time, as hardcore as it gets for a hardy groundhopper.

And taking in new sights, new grounds, is what this is all about. Today I took in the fourth new hallowed domain of this trip, the Tottenham Hotspur stadium, for the visit of the Shrimps. I think it’s probably the best of all the new builds, and marks my 75th of the current 92 and the 165th stadium I've watched football in. The thought and planning that’s gone into the whole concept is highly impressive, especially when you consider the card Spurs have been dealt. Even when I lived in London I never found the access to White Hart Lane particularly enjoyable, or without difficulty. Choosing therefore to build on roughly the same site, and embracing the gritty urban setting, and still pushing public transport and pedestrian options is a brave move. 

Partly as a result of an old habit failing to die as hard as my perceptions of the old ground and its environs, we opted for lunch at Yildiz, the best Turkish grill in London, and deep in Arsenal territory.

But though the Seven Sisters Road might not have anything to compete with pre-match scoff like that, in every other way this was a superlative match day experience. The facilities are better, the food options more diverse, the atmosphere improved, and every lesson in flawed stadium design has been eagerly learned from every mistake made by everyone else, but mainly Arsenal. 

On the pitch though, we were in for a treat, served up with pluck and grit by a Morecambe side prepared to embrace the occasion and give it a go. Spurs might have had all the possession, but the blocks of empty seats and a place in the team for what were effectively Conte's triallists showed an institutional lack of respect that gave the Shrimps every motivation to run their bloody noses in it. 

Though there was a roar for Morecambe's opener on 33 minutes from their 3000 fans, some 150 of whom may have been at Christie Park for the 8-1 crushing of Esh Winning in 1986 in an early FA Cup memory we will share. But the loudest cheer of the day came for the Harry Kane led cavalry to replace Ali, Ndombele and Gil, and raucous boos as they didn’t leave the pitch, and possibly their Spurs careers, quickly enough. The eventual 3-1 win had a feeling of inevitability about it once the first one rattled in. An ungracious taunting of the visiting fans from parents and children around us, that they weren’t singing anymore, won’t be enough to properly extinguish the embarrassment that a struggling League One side with scant resources took the game this far. Premier League, having a laugh, for sure, but they weren’t laughing in Newcastle last night.

The reason this odyssey is back on is down to our 21 year old soldier son Max, a Spurs supporter. On Sunday 9 January 2011 I took him by trains, buses and tubes across all points of London, via an Ottolenghi cake shop, also close to Arsenal, to an FA Cup third round sweeping aside of Charlton Athletic. It was a special day, and the write up is here. For my Christmas present he made today happen. The circle of life, and the magic of the cup. Pick whichever cliche you want, but it works for me.

Meeting Gary Neville for the Big Issue in the North

I met up with Gary Neville a couple of weeks ago. Everything we talked about is pretty much covered in the cover story profile I wrote for this week's Big Issue in the North. We talked about so many of my favourite subjects; football, politics, business, education, and personal motivation. But he didn't hold back on the anger and moral disgust he feels for this government. Reading it back, and listening to the recording is quite powerful and raw at times.

One of the things he said was that if you call out this government for what they are, eventually you will be proved right. 

Some comments work in the moment. Some stand the test of time, even in a fast moving news agenda.

He's such a fascinating character who has already lived an extraordinary life. But I was particularly struck by his humility, how he learns lessons from mistakes and setbacks. It may seem an odd thing to pick up on given his many achievements, but that quest for perpetual forward motion and the desire to do the right thing is quite special in the present climate.

He also told me: “You know, I am an entrepreneurial business person who's earned a lot of money. But I believe you can still act with compassion and empathy and be decent, but the people in charge of our government at this moment in time aren’t doing that."

Once again, I'd urge you to go out and buy it, support your vendors, and support quality print media.

Or if you can't get out to a Co-op store, or a vendor, and if you don't live in the North, then you can buy a digital copy online.

The Saying Yes to Everything Tour - an update

I mentioned a while ago that me and my wife Rachel and Neil and his wife, Rachael, are on something of a say yes to anything tour.

This blog is a slightly updated version of my weekly column in the Tameside Reporter and Glossop Chronicle for the end of November. 

Having been locked down for the best part of two years has made us really appreciate the things we were denied for so long. There’s a real sense out there that many of you feel the same way. 

Concerts, comedy nights, talks, festivals, exhibitions, films, restaurants and bars, sporting events, walks in the hills. You name it, we’ve been on it. And yet we still have massive FOMO (Fear of Missing Out) when we see other people going to things we wish we’d gone to.

Out of this darkness, some real moments of magic have appeared and I wanted to share a few of them with you. Hopefully, they’ll encourage you to get out a bit and see what might happen.

Just to give you a flavour for this, we bumped into Andy Burnham, the Mayor of Greater Manchester, last weekend. Neil had interviewed the Mayor a few weeks before for a film he made for the clothing brand Pretty Green. There was a competition to “meet the designers behind the brand” and get a discount voucher for some lucky winners. It turned out that it was actually a chance to hang out with Liam Gallagher.

Andy told us that he’d been at three gigs in a row last week - The Jesus & Mary Chain, Paul Weller, and Billy Bragg, who we featured on last week’s Music Therapy. One thing the Mayor has consistently done is support venues and give a helping hand to emerging artists across the area. One of the bands he trumpeted, Wigan’s The Lathums, supported Weller in Liverpool last Friday.

Apparently, I’ve been mispronouncing their name when I’ve introduced their tunes on Tameside Radio. This Sunday night I’ll get it right. Thanks, Mr Mayor.

Incidentally, it was brilliant to learn that the Modfather gave a support slot at his Llandudno gig last Saturday to the Tameside troubadour, Cobain Jones. What a lovely thing to do and by all accounts, Cobain absolutely rocked the North Wales audience.

We saw a similar act of generosity last Wednesday at the Plaza Theatre in Stockport. Top comic Jason Manford sold out this show two years ago, but only now has he been able to fulfil the date, even if it did clash with Stockport County’s FA Cup replay conquering of Bolton Wanderers, it was still packed. He didn’t have to, but he gave a support slot to Denton comedian Stephen Bailey, who was really good.

Neil had also seen a raucous event over in Wigan featuring Shaun Ryder from the Happy Mondays, interviewed in front of an audience of fans. The MC for the evening was Neil’s mate Brian Cannon, the graphic designer who did such iconic artwork for the album covers for Oasis and The Verve. Brian had his work cut out as his plan to steer a conversation gently was taken over by a local crowd who shouted out their own questions and Shaun answered the ones he wanted to. Pretty fitting really.

By way of contrast, we saw the writer David Hepworth at the Louder Than Words Festival in Manchester, promoting his book about British artists breaking through in America, Overpaid, Oversexed and Over There. This is a man who knows all about artists going off-script. It was David who famously interviewed Bob Geldof during Live Aid when the Boomtown Rat banged the table and urged the people at home to, er, donate a bit more money!

No such chaos at the Innside Hotel in Manchester last week, but we learnt a stream of fascinating stories. Not least that the first words that an American audience heard from The Beatles in 1964 were - Close Your Eyes and I’ll Kiss You. And boy, America certainly did.

Post script to this is we braved the wilds and drove over to Liverpool to see two delightful performances from two artists I've really got to appreciate in the last year. Jane Weaver was the support for Saint Etienne, a band I've always quite liked but never fully bought into previously. I'll have to try and think about what that might be.

Here's another resolution, I'm going to start adding the column here on this blog every Friday. Just to cross-reference it, and maybe be a bit assiduous about adding reviews of things we've done and places we've been.

Buxton's legions breach York City's walls

If there’s a TV producer reading this, then you must be kicking yourself at missing the opportunity to cover the footballing reality show of the season. 

Buxton FC have given us laughs aplenty and a reborn love of football and I'm delighted that my Radliffe to Wembley odyssey will be with the Bucks for at least another round, which is sure to produce more drama.

First it was the spectacle of the 10pm floodlight failure against Kettering. But if that wasn’t enough of a “you couldn’t make it up” moment in the latest Carry on Football, we had the build up to their first FA Cup First Round Proper tie in 58 years. It went something like this: the assistant manager insists on going on a long awaited holiday, for fear of losing his deposit. The manager says that’s fine. The chairman embraces the oncoming panto season and says, oh no it isn’t. They both get the boot, a few days before the BIGGEST GAME IN THE CLUB’S RECENT HISTORY and on the back of a seven match unbeaten run.

A few weeks before, in a club, not so very far, far away, another manager leaves Curzon Ashton FC with immediate effect after the chairman reveals that he'd been in secret talks with another club. 

And so it was that Steve Cunningham's first match in charge of Buxton FC was this juicy away match at York in the First Round Proper of the FA Cup, something even the veteran Bucks fans on our train hadn't witnessed in their adult lifetimes.

I called it before the game that Jamie Ward and Diego De Girolamo were class players capable of stepping up for the big occasion. Boy did they do that. Diego's worldy with just five minutes to go was no more than Buxton deserved. They had plenty of early chances, they constantly attacked and exposed York's soft underbelly. Their fans had also kept up a constant barrage of noise and pyro throughout, fitting for a team that matched York in every department, despite their opponents being full time, coached by Steve Watson, a former Premier League player with over 500 top class appearances in a decent career, and playing in front of 2,300 of their own fans.

So farewell then, York. Two visits to the York Community Stadium and twice I’ve seen this team of full-time professionals combust under pressure from gutsy part-timers.

Rachel joined me on this jaunt, partly because we entertained the vague notion that we might have a wander around York's city walls and cobbled streets. We didn't. Instead we booked a hospitality package in a lounge, and strapped on our VIP wristbands for a pie and mash with spring veg that would have had me cheering if I'd ordered it in a top country pub. We were sat with FA officials and some other real characters for a top afternoon of drama.

The chance encounters are what I think I've enjoyed the most about this whole adventure. The two lads from Exeter City we sat with on the train, on their way to Bradford City, three blokes celebrating one's birthday, and two ground hopping Bantams fans taking in a smart new ground rather than experiencing their side's draw against Exeter. Small world.

One of our other new pals was indeed a TV producer and we said we'd stay in touch. You see, I've got this great idea... 

FA Cup odyssey - a twist in the tale

The FA Cup journey - or odyssey of oddities - has taken on a curious twist in the last few days. Having followed the happy scrappy grafters of Morpeth Town, the Highwaymen, from the mugging of Radcliffe, which earned them a trip to the slick and sophisticated new home of York City, I hadn't really contemplated the consequences of a draw. These are scheduled to happen on the Tuesday after the main event and have to be wrapped up on the night. Extra time and penalties if necessary. 

Morpeth is a long way to travel at any time. If you drove, you'd still have your pedal on the metal forty minutes after you passed the Angel of the North. The last train back is at half ten, getting me home at half four, which is some going on a Tuesday night, with the prospect of still leaving before a potential penalty shoot-out. My new mates who I watched the second half with at York chided me at the conclusion to the game - a 1-1 draw - that I would now have to do it. Of course, I don't have to do anything, this is a casual challenge driven only by my own curiosity, nerdishness, and neediness for purpose. 

When the draw was made on Sunday, however, things got interesting. The winner of the replay in Morpeth would be at home to either Kettering Town or Buxton, who would be hosting a replay just over half an hour down the A6 from home. This way I would get a sneak preview of the opponents in the next round on November the 6th, which I am totally committed to. Maybe the chance of penalties and giant-killing and drama was too alluring, but amazingly my wife Rachel opted to come with me. As our friend Patrick Loftus said on Twitter - "you are mad". Or maybe it's true love.

On Saturday it was a bit of a rush to get to York, and I sadly saw very little of one of my favourite British cities. The new stadium is situated well out of town but is easy to get to by shuttle bus. I laughed when the directions to the ticket office were to pass the cinema, cut through the leisure centre, and turn left at Starbucks. It's very modern, very unlike what I expected to see watching a home game involving a team in National League North, as was the crowd of 2,258. 

I've had form watching York City in the FA Cup. In 1985 a trip with my mates from home to see Morecambe in the First Round proper at Bootham Crescent was the preferred option to a fight in Stockport with the National Front. I was committed to the cause, but I rather suspected the students I would have been with would get properly battered. It turns out the local Stockport hooligans turned on the Nazis and that I rather underestimated how game the Jewish Student contingent from Manchester were. The game ended 0-0 and the replay, shamefully, though conveniently for me, was at Maine Road.

I also saw York City's last ever game in the Football League, at Morecambe, in 2016, which I blogged about here. Things have been rough for them since, dropping down even further, but emerging with a nice new home. The only way will be up, but there were rumblings of discontent that the board should be sacked. I probably need to investigate, but it wasn't a director who flapped at a header in the 75th minute.

All told it was a feisty game, clash of styles, a game of two halves, end to end action and some late drama. Knowing what I noticed from Radcliffe, Morpeth are fighters. Despite being frankly played off the park in the first half, they came out in the second with no intention of rolling over. By the end, York's slick passing game was gone and they were hanging on and in relative disarray.

The football is the prime fascination, but I always seem to meet nice people too. I watched the second half with a stag do spin off pair from Norwich, who I caught taking pictures of a pie whilst sporting a niche French football training top. I also enjoyed chatting to Morpeth's chairman after the game, who was absolutely thrilled.

We only just made the kick off at Buxton due to traffic, having no cash, and then queing up to get in to see Buxton try and get to the First Round of the FA Cup for the first time since 1962. That wouldn't have been the most heinous error of the night though. I do prefer to do this jaunt on public transport, but we were slightly concerned that the last train from Buxton to Disley leaves at 22:55. Extra Time, penalties and a celebration would cut it a bit fine. As it turned out, so would the ensuing chaos caused by the planned floodlight shutdown on the stroke of 10pm, which no-one thought to override, stretching the evening's entertainment out a bit.

Buxton went 1-0 down to a second half goal by Kettering's unit of a centre forward, Kyle Perry. It's sensible they have an artificial pitch in the Peak District, but although the ball can roll freely, the swirling wind was a major factor for both sides. Buxton are a good team though and their talisman is Diego De Girolamo, who has played professionally at a high level, and probably could do so again. He struck two good chances that fell to him in Extra Time and could have had more, as the Northern Premier League side humbled their National League North visitors.

I often wonder when I watch non-league players what fine margins led them here, rather than the riches of the Premier League, or even the more modest achievements of a career for a club in the Championship. De Girolamo seems to have had bad luck, signing for clubs in crisis. I imagine he's enjoying his football at this level now, more than he did as a Bristol City reserve player.

As for the stadiums, York Community Stadium is a modern, neat and well-built facility with a good view and a good surface. Should York ever need to, it could be extended. It's the 163rd ground I've paid to watch football on.

Buxton's Silverlands stadium (the 164th) is tidy, with a raised viewing position at the side, where I like to stand, ideally, and a tall compact stand. There were 1,017 there to see history being made and most seemed to have queued for a pie and a cup of tea at some point in the evening. 

Meanwhile, up in Morpeth, York did a professional job on them and cruised to a 3-1 win. So I'm back to York on the 6th of November and a little bit of history being made between two teams from lovely places.

My internal dialogue on football, Newcastle, oligarchs and Venky's

Why haven't you done one of your self-regarding and pompous blogs about the Newcastle takeover? Don't you care about murdered journalists?

I feel genuinely exhausted by all the commentary and back-and-forth on the Newcastle United takeover and pretty much every conversation about global football, investment trends and how everyone from your barber to the bloke that stands next to the fruit machine in the pub are now experts on sovereign wealth funds and cultural relativism.

So, you think you're above such banalities then? It's fine for you as the one-time editor of a business magazine, friend of football club directors and would-be owners of your club to have an opinion, but not now, right?

Everything that has been said and done has been said and done. Proper journalism's David Conn, a very good piece on an Arsenal website, and another piece by David Goldblatt in the Guardian, of course, which blames New Labour, obviously. It's the natural progression of the modern form of capitalism, acquisition of soft power assets by sovereign wealth funds to either greenwash or sports wash their reputation for a time when the oil runs out, or a UK passport gets secured. And something to do with TV rights and piracy in the Middle East and Qatar, or something.

Ah, so it's a government issue, not a moral one, that if only there was better regulation and enforcement of the rules on fit and proper persons who can own a football club, is that what you're saying? 

Do you know how many current Premier League and Championship owners would be barred from owning a club if the rules could by some miracle be enforced retrospectively? None. Not a single one. They aren't designed to block global tycoons, nation-states or oligarchs, they're meant to be a bar to the kind of local crook too thick to operate through an offshore trust.

Or a rapist?

Indeed. But equally I don't remember Blackpool fans complaining about Owen Oyston when Blackpool got promoted to the Premier League. Only when he took all the money, stiffed his Latvian business partner and laughed in the faces of the fans did it become an issue. Nothing in the rules prevented him from doing any of that.

So clubs should be co-operatives of local basket weavers run for the benefit of that nebulous and slightly contorted word "the community"? Basically, you're just tilting at windmills here, aren't you?

So if you follow the logical progression of football club ownership, this is all inevitable and therefore you price it in and swallow it? Skint local businessman gets bailed out by either highly skilful overleveraged and very lucky local businessman, who then flips it to national semi-celebrity businessman, or possibly a European with UK connections to the financial laundry of the City of London, who then realises he then needs to cash-out to either an oligarch, a nation-state, or a financially engineered American. 

Go on...

So if every club goes through a version of that progressive game of snakes and ladders, then the end result is a very wealthy Premier League, an ever more desperate Championship of clubs desperate to get into that cycle, and you just have to hope your club is owned by someone at the top of that slightly grotesque foodchain.

There's the German model?

If we had the German model of fan ownership then one of the big red teams would win the league every season, for a start. Plus, I used to have similar discussions when I worked in the education sector. You have to fix the fundamentals of the economy to get that model. The European Super League thing hasn't gone away you know.   

So you walk away from football then? Boycott it?

I see what you did there. So you either bail out of football entirely, go and support a non-league club, or suck it up. I think that's led us to the moral cop-out that says we can no more boycott football - it's too important - than we can give up using electricity.

But what about the long-suffering Newcastle fans burdened by the trauma of the Mike Ashley era, don't they have the right to a better future?

I don't care. Why do they think they're going to win anything anytime soon? In that world where every club is super-wealthy, only one team can win the Champions League, only one can win the league. And here's the other uncomfortable truth. Three of them have to be relegated. And who says it's a better future?

Will foreign ownership of football clubs end up being the same as the colonial slave trade issue of the future? Shamefully hiding their human rights reputations in investments into failing clubs…

Yes, kind of. But if you look at Manchester City it's been a well-run investment in a successful club that has also managed to project the new modern image of the UAE. As long as things are going well, the projection of that image looks good. You'll also see in the next year a series of well crafted long reads about Saudi Arabia's new generation of leaders moving on from Wahabi Islam, becoming a more tolerant and cohesive society, rooting out corruption and the old ways. How the ownership of Newcastle United is a gift to the people of the North East, consistent with the mainstream values of a technologically connected world. How tolerance and mutual respect for diversity of cultures is part of Saudi Arabia's step out of the dark ages.  

You're just jealous. I saw what your fans were saying on Twitter. Hoping for a rich Saudi to buy Blackburn, and you didn't stop supporting your team when a tax-dodger bought the Premier League, did you? Wouldn't you want Blackburn to be owned by a billionaire?

Blackburn Rovers literally is owned by a family which at the last time of checking was valued in the billions. But Venky's aren't stupid enough to break the rules of financial fair play on a gamble that may get us into the Premier League, but they are also somehow unwilling to walk away and plunge the club into liquidation. And I'd contest the Jack Walker description, a little bit, but Blackburn Rovers are very much on that conveyor belt of ownership. We got very, very lucky, played our hand well, then got very, very unlucky and were financially rinsed by a series of disastrous decisions made by people who didn't have the long term interests of the club at heart. No one truly knows what went on there except the Rao family, Steve Kean and Jerome Anderson. Portsmouth went through something similar too, they even went down the fan ownership route after having a financial disaster - and opted for the rich American option. But there's a long term structural reason why our club is currently where we are, the fan base, the tradition, the size of the town and the catchment area. As for expecting me to defend "your fans" though, really?

Radcliffe to Wembley - the latest twist

Thanks for having me, Radcliffe, it's been great getting to know you.

It was a bruising physical duel at Radcliffe today that saw Morpeth Town upset the odds with a 3-1. The damage was done in a first half performance that saw luck on their side as they snatched three goals that proved too big a margin for the hosts to overcome.

I can't put my finger on what Radcliffe lacked, the first goal felt like it was against the run of play and that they'd get one back quickly. The second was a scramble from a corner, and the third had them shell shocked at how easy Morpeth swept it in, but it takes nothing away from a gutsy defensive showing from the visitors from the North East, who consistently played out from the back with real confidence. 

My friend Steven joined me for this stage on the journey and once again we were greeted at the gate by our mate Alan Townley, a Boro director, who is a popular and well-known local personality, known by name and reputation even amongst the young lads behind the goal who chanted his name at one point. 

I'm now anxiously awaiting Monday's draw and hoping Morpeth's name is paired with somewhere new and interesting (and not too far away).

Radcliffe to Wembley, next stop Mossley

I don't think there's a prettier view in all of football than the setting of Seel Park, Mossley. 

I was there for the Second Qualifying Round of the FA Cup today, to see Radcliffe again, and for a second time they ended up comfortably overcoming opposition from a lower division, this time it was Mossley from the Northern Premier League West Division.

It was a good crowd on today as well, taking advantage of another extension to our summer, drinking pints in the sun and enjoying a decent game. A good following from Radcliffe swelled the attendance too, with both teams really up for a cup run and all that it brings to a shoestring operation like this. 

I had a good chat to my pal Alan Townley before the game, a Radcliffe director, who filled me in on some of the team news. The story of Kole Hall, Radcliffe's wide attacking star fascinated me. In June he played for Bermuda in a World Cup qualifier in Florida against the Cayman Islands. He was one of a number of Radcliffe's young team that look like they could play at a higher level. The winning goalscorer Andrew Owens gets himself into good positions and the two centre backs - Olly Thornley and Joe Cummings - look assured. 

The score was 2-1 and although the home side took the lead in the first half, played with real guts and spirit, in the end, the division of difference between the sides started to look obvious. 

I don't have any skin in this game, I'm not supporting one team over another. As much as I enjoyed another trip to beautiful Seel Park, all I hope for in the next round is somewhere interesting to go with Radcliffe's ball in the velvet bag for Monday's draw. 

 

Blackburn Rovers, touching from a distance

There's a very good reason why I should never tweet, blog, or even speak about a Blackburn Rovers match in its immediate aftermath. On Saturday I was murderous with rage about Luton Town, their manager, their tactics, the referee and Sam Gallagher's party trick of taking the ball into the corner to waste time. 

It was as sick as I've felt walking off Ewood. And it was just an early-season game against Luton bloody Town. But I was also probably wrong to feel like that. Fine margins, and the ability to put good clear chances away, meant we should have been out of sight way before the 98th minute. But it didn't feel like it at the time.

On Tuesday night it was like watching a different sport. The first half, and the opening few bars of the second, were like casually observing a band tuning up their instruments. I could say a number of things that are self-evidently true: Thyrhys Dolan is an incredible talent, but needs to improve a few aspects of his game; Thomas Kaminsky is probably our best keeper since Brad Friedel; Buckley and Rothwell are played out of position and seem unhappy about that. I prefer Ben Brereton Diaz to Ben Brereton. They are my opinions, and I may be wrong.

I also had absolutely no idea what the system was, apart from to give Hull City more time on the ball. Richie Smallwood has never had so much space and time inside Ewood Park as he did last night. So, when the subs were coming on at the 54th minute mark I had no idea who was going to be coming off, and for what purpose. That both Khadra and Butterworth had an immediate disruptive impact proves either that Mowbray totally knows what he's doing, or that he had it badly wrong with his first eleven. He was right about Butterworth's fitness though, for the last ten minutes he looked spent.

Another theory I've long harboured is that the Peter Jackson the Jewellers man of the match award is made by corporate sponsors with a bleary view of football, who tend to favour show boaters and goalscorers. Last night for Darragh Lenihan, and on Saturday with Dolan, they were absolutely spot on. I have an irrational leaning towards our captain. I think he could be playing comfortably at a higher level, certainly if Scott Dann can, he can, and if Grant Hanley's your man, then so's Lenihan. Yet on a different view, he was lucky not to get sent off against Luton for a rough challenge, which probably made a tetchy situation worse still. That he dusted off the criticism and scrutiny to turn in a captain's performance like last night tells you all you need to know.

So we sit 7th in the table and I still look at this team as a collection of underachievers playing for a jaded fan base, much of which is due to a distinct lack of dynamism from the leadership of the club. It reminds me so much of the early 80s. We had a decent team then, but it wasn't until much later that we realised quite how good they were. There are also more recent ghosts of Jordan Rhodes, Tom Cairney, Rudy Gestede, Grant Hanley and, ahem, Ben Marshall. Genuinely gifted players who together should have forged a promotion-winning team. This is a young team, full of promise and yet somehow drifting, more likely to be caught out for lack of nous, than tearing up the Championship. 

So far though, it's a decent start on paper. Taking stock and weighing up the positives is always a better way of forming a view than a hot take. 

Groundhopping at Radcliffe, a grand day out with Sam and Big Al

In 1977 my Dad gave me a football book that probably changed the way I feel about the game. Called Journey to Wembley, it's a story of the FA Cup, round by round, starting at Tividale in the West Midlands, and ending up at Wembley to witness Tommy Docherty's Manchester United denying Liverpool a historic treble, with the European Cup to follow just a few days later.

I can still remember reading about the grievances of locals in Tividale, annoyed that more cars than usual arrived to watch Geoff Hurst's Telford. The eye for detail, and the observation about everything else that goes on in and around a matchday, fascinated me and probably played a big part in pushing me in the direction of sociology and journalism.  

But I also remember asking my Dad how Brian James knew that starting this path in Tividale would lead to Wembley. I think he just smiled and suggested I work it out for myself. 

On Saturday me and my friend Sam took advantage of the international break to start on our own Wembley trail at Radcliffe v Skelmersdale Town in the first qualifying round of the FA Cup. It was hastily arranged, we probably won't follow through to even the next round, but it's at least planted a few seeds for a daft idea.

We're both in 'say yes and try something new' mode, in pretty much every area of our lives. One of them was to try and see random sporting events and he fancied joining me on some groundhopping. We picked Radcliffe because I've never been before, so can tick it off the list as ground number 162, but also because our mate Alan "Man About" Townley is a director there and we thought we'd turn up and surprise him. 

The game was pretty one-sided once Radcliffe got to grips with Skem's two best players. A late goal in each half was all the scoreboard says separated the two sides, but Radcliffe were good for the win, especially attacking downhill on the sloping pitch in the second period. The win, by the way, was worth £2,250 to Radcliffe, who now face a trip to Mossley in the next round on the 18th of September.

It's a quirky little ground with the only seating areas situated behind the goal and the pitch is on a bit of a gradient from one end to the other. We watched the first half between the dugouts, picking up what the coaches say, then watched the second half from behind the goal where Radcliffe kept up a constant attacking barrage for the final half an hour. Conveniently, we were next to the scoreboard, which Sam pointed out is better than the one at Old Trafford. When I go on my own I love listening to the characters and the comments of the fans, players and coaches at games like this. When I go with a friend it's a slightly different experience, taking it all in, but actually having time for a really lovely conversation with disparate micro dramas going on around us; kids jibbing in, security staff chucking them out, banter from the terraces, and of course seeing the raw frustration and occasional joy on the players' faces from such a close vantage point. 

Thanks to top Tameside blogger Stuart Valentine there's a delightful absolute beginners guide to watching Greater Manchester non-league football here. It's a good reference to show me I'm only 5 grounds away from having every Greater Manchester ground at level 8 and above ticked off. Here's to more days like these, even though we might not get all the way to Wembley, or even Mossley. 

As an amusing postscript, when we got into Manchester afterwards for a mooch about, we found this mural at the back of the Printworks for the charity Forever Manchester, included on it is Captain Manchester, the good deed doing superhero character created by Sam, and next to him was the late Bernard Manning, who's son was chairman of Radcliffe until 2017. 

 

My Sounds of the Season 1983/84

So I've done my Sounds of the Season on Rovers Radio, like a Desert Island Discs for Blackburn Rovers fans. Usually, I do the interviews, but this was my turn to be in the hot seat.

You can link to it here. But this is the preamble.

Honestly, in many ways 1983/84 was a bang average season for Blackburn Rovers, not many memories feature in the history books, compared to what came several years later. The crowds were really low, in fact, we hit a new low. But it was really memorable for me for all sorts of different reasons, just going to Rovers, them becoming part of my life, was one of the emerging pillars of my identity, as were music, ideas, fashion, amongst others.

On the pitch, Simon Garner had a great season. Norman Bell got injured in the first game and never played again. So Garner was partnered with Chris Thompson mostly while Miller or Brotherston or Patterson provided the crosses. This season saw the emergence of Simon Barker alongside an ever-present John Lowey in the centre of midfield.

At the back, it was still Baz, Faz, Keeley and Branagan, in theory, but David Glenn filled in for Baz for most of the season, and all-rounder David Hamilton popped up wherever he was needed. Terry Gennoe was a solid presence in goal, with a cup run, an unbeaten league run, strong home form, on paper it looks like a good season, but too many draws meant although we finished 6th, it never felt like a promotion push. Chelsea and Sheffield Wednesday were comfortably ahead, Newcastle finished third and Manchester City had to endure another season down in the doldrums. 

It was however a great year for music. A massive turning point, a breakthrough. Just look at the choices I make and think what it must have been like to be alive and excited by all of that happening for the very first time.

Culturally, this period of time probably had a more profound and lasting influence on me than many of the later years. I bailed out of my Grammar School a year into sixth form and enrolled at Lancaster and Morecambe FE College instead, and instantly felt so much more at ease. Some of the things I got into later I quickly backed away from, but there is a reasonably straight line from the person I was in 1983 to where I am today, which I am very comfortable with.

It was also a pretty violent and racist time. There was always tension in the air, a sense it could kick-off, especially as you were hunted down at away matches, or when the bigger clubs arrived at Ewood. I also could have relayed scrapes at nearly every match I mention here, but I survived. 

These are my Sounds of the Season, 1983/84. Do give the show a listen if you want to hear the rest of the story. I’ll dedicate it to Chris Heath (RIP), Nick, Phil, Tony, Mick, Daz, Dave, Neil Fell, Phil Shaw, Lancaster and Morecambe FE College, Baz Dootson, and an apology to Louise Stokes for not returning her David Bowie LP.

The Songs

My Ever Changing Moods - Style Council

Modern Love - David Bowie

This Charming Man - The Smiths

Thieves Like Us - New Order

Boys Don't Cry - The Cure

Ain't Nobody - Rufus and Chaka Khan

Nelson Mandela - The Specials

White Lines (Don't Do It) - Grandmaster Flash

The Killing Moon - Echo and the Bunnymen

The Day Before You Came - Blancmange

The meaning of football

It was always going to be an emotional return to Blackburn Rovers. For me, it’s been gradual. A long in the planning trip to Euro 2020 that took me and my friend, Steven, to his home city of Glasgow for Ukraine v Sweden; a pre-season friendly at one of the English non-league’s new challenger clubs, AFC Fylde, and another warm-up at home to Leeds.

For different reasons, they all had something special about them that rather brilliantly lined up the main event of yesterday.

It’s been an awfully long time away. It would have been very easy to give up all of what I’m about to say. The first home league game at Ewood Park felt remarkably like the last one some 500 sleeps ago. That it was also against sneaky Swansea and with a weak referee was but a coincidence, but that the full quota of regulars sat around our berth on row 11 of the Riverside was a moment of affirmation of a sense of belonging. The players led the 10,000 crowd in applause pre-match for all those we’ve lost in this dreadful pandemic. I daren’t look, or speculate, at the empty seats behind us, that these prime spots aren’t once again populated by familiar faces and, though nameless, characters with who we have formed a bond. And it was delightful to take our friend Ian Herbert as our guest, one of those many people who we have got to know through football and who is always great to be around.

It was also about the rituals. One of which is held in my hand, in the shape of a Clayton Park Potato and Meat Pie. On another occasion, we’ll pop into Leavers Bakery on Bolton Road for a fix of the very best pre-match pie in all of football.

But there’s been a heck of a lot to dislike about football lately. The greed, the scramble to appeal to the vanity of an oligarch to bail out every club in the great unseemly gamble to not fall victim to ‘beware of what you wish for’. The Euros represented the best and worst of football, even for this Anglo-Welshman. A blend of hope, pride, and shame.

As for our team, despite the optimism of Rod Liddle in the Sunday Times who seems to think the ever-improving Blackburn Rovers will finish in the top six, without acknowledging that we’re about to see our best player leave through the same exit door as ten other former first-team regulars, the mood amongst the fans is gloomy. Tony Mowbray seems to have lost what mojo he ever had and is at least honest enough to admit the financial situation is grim. Though we were good for the win yesterday there are still too many players out of position (Rothwell, Gallagher, Dolan and Diaz, notably), the late substitutions disrupt any capacity to control a game fully, and there’s an unhealthy obsession with giving valuable Championship playing time to squad members of the Under 23s, of Everton, Manchester City and Liverpool, rather than those of Blackburn Rovers. That said, the stand-out player for me yesterday was homegrown John Buckley, who at times looked Tugay-esque.

I could have said all of that from the comfort of my sofa. That I didn’t is a tribute to the powerful draw of football, its culture, its rituals and our friends. Between those two Rovers matches have been three new grounds ticked off the list - FC United (159), Hampden Park (160) and AFC Fylde (161). I have a few in my sights this season, but probably will only barely stay in the 80s in my quest to ‘do the 92’.

Steven, with whom I've shared so many great memories, also helped us make a new one as he took me to Cathkin Park in Glasgow to visit the eerie remains of the home of Third Lanark, once a real force in Scottish football. The three sides of a bowl of terraces remain, as are the crush barriers, the pitchside wall, and if I’m being spiritual, a presence of what went before. It’s a tale of corruption and sectarianism I’m keen to discover more about. It’s proof that it’s more than just an old building, but a relic of our true human experience. So yes, forgive the obsession, but I’m oddly fascinated by stadia, where they are and where they were. I still have a frisson of excitement and anticipation in Manchester’s Moss Side on the approaches to the old Maine Road. I always look up from the train as it arrives at Bolton and eye-up the site of the old Burnden Park. But this was something else entirely. 

We’re going to make more memories this season. Mostly in the company of Blackburn Rovers, but also Lancaster City, Matt Jansen’s Stockport Town and maybe a few other random days out too. Hopefully, the Rovers ones will be surprisingly happy ones, but to be really honest, whatever happens on the pitch, they are going to be far better being there than not. Ask the ghosts of Third Lanark.

World in Motion or Three Lions? Actually, both

 

Let’s get the obvious out of the way first. The best football song ever is New Order’s World In Motion.

I don’t just say that because I’m a New Order fan, I say because I’m a football fan. It just is the best of them all, there’s nothing else to say. 

The first ever official England song was Back Home, recorded for the 1970 World Cup, when England were defending world champions. It was written by legendary Irish songwriter and composer Phil Coulter and by Scotsman Bill Martin and featured the vocal exertions of the whole squad, filmed belting it out wearing tuxedos on Top of the Pops. 

Sadly it trigged a lamentable run of squad songs for major tournaments by our home nations that never really got any better until, of course, World in Motion in 1990. 

 But for England fans no song has captured the mood on the radio, the terraces and in the fan zones quite like Three Lions, David Baddiel and Frank Skinner’s anthem recorded for Euro 96 with Ian Brodie of the Lightning Seeds. The chorus of ‘it’s coming home’ still rings out whenever England are playing. 

 I suspect it has stuck partly because it was a song created by fans, for fans, rather than for the team. Even now you hear chants to that chorus almost as often as you do to the tune of Go West. Most of these, if we’re honest, are pretty unimaginative. And part of the problem is that crowds collectively have had this stuff served up for them as football becomes increasingly part of showbusiness. 

 One of the many things I have grown to dislike about modern football is the pumped in music in order to create atmosphere in stadiums. Not all clubs are fortune enough to have matchday DJ like Tameside Radio’s Dave Sweetmore, who entertains the punters at Rochdale FC’s home games. 

For a couple of season my team, Blackburn Rovers, walked out to the instrumental bridge of Coldplay's Viva la Vida, a rousing soaring anthem about a guilty liberal wrestling with his childlike understanding of religion. I never understood why. 

 My personal nadir for pumped in, pumped up music was the use of Status Quo's Rockin' All Over the World in February 2002 at Cardiff’s Millenium Stadium as Rovers paraded the League Cup. It spoiled a genuine moment of joy. 

 I saw a clip last week of the Liverpool fans on the Kop terrace singing Beatles songs and Cilla Black’s Anyone Who Had A Heart, I suspect they had a prompt from the tannoy, but they weren’t drowned out the way those examples were and it feels like a beautiful collective moment. 

 Still, if you really want an example of a football crowd giving you a proper ‘hairs on the back of the neck’ moment, go and find the video clip of Hibernian fans singing Sunshine of Leith at the Scottish Cup Final in 2016. 

 And remember as you enjoy Euro 2021, there’s only one way to beat them, and that’s round the back.

(From the Tameside Reporter, Weekender, June 10, 2021)

Hosting at Invest North 21: Selling the north to the world

Had a wonderful time hosting this final session at the Invest North 21 conference last week, Selling the North to the World organised by The Business Desk. The discussion was great, but I'm probably more excited by the way the new podcast rig looks and sounds.

I was joined by Collette Roche, chief operating officer at Manchester United Football Club, James Mason, chief executive for Welcome to Yorkshire, Sheona Southern, managing director at Marketing Manchester and Kerry Thomas – head of marketing – Blackpool Cluster – Merlin Entertainments Group.

We covered so many great things our tourist sector is gearing up to market as the economy reopens. But the spirit of the people was a constant. “Friendly”, “Down-to-earth” and “Hospitable” were just some of the attributes which will be used to help maximise the North’s attraction to international visitors, according to our panel of experts. I was pleased to slide in references to Freshwalks, my DJ work and Tame Impala, which hopefully added something.

Hope you enjoy it. It reminded me of a couple of things, I really enjoy doing this kind of thing. It's not for me to judge whether I'm any good at it, but the feedback was good. There's a link to coverage of the session here.

Gary Lineker's brilliant, heartfelt tribute to Diego Maradona

I know he's the scourge of a certain section of the male population due to his stance on Brexit (and not being a dick) but this was a reminder of what a good broadcaster Gary Lineker is. I'm pleased he's not just a pundit, but he gets the respect of the other players because of all he achieved in the game. It's brought back home too what a player he was. My generation's greatest international tournaments were Mexico 86 and Italia 90. England's performances were totally enhanced by Lineker's input. He was a deadly striker and a superb ambassador for the game at the time. I adored him.

I haven't always though. In the days when my team was frequently last on Match of the Day, as opposed to next to last on the Football League Show on Channel 5, I thought they were phoning it in. I don't see as much of him now for obvious reasons, but I think he's got much better as a broadcaster, as you'd expect, and as the media age has changed. He bounces off Ian Wright Jermain Jenas and Alan Shearer far better than he ever did with the far too cosy Mark Lawrenson and Alan Hansen. I'm not a Danny Murphy fan.

I wanted to mark the passing of a legend this week. But plenty of others can have their say far better than I could on Diego Maradona, over the last few days. He was an absolute icon and one of the greatest players in my lifetime, I still think Cruyff was the greatest ever, but it's churlish to mention that. Sometimes it's hard to find the appropriate words too, but I'm glad that Gary Lineker did.