Ted Smith - a true pioneer of football and an inspiration

Ted Smith, left, coach of Benfica

All of us have important early memories of our lives as football supporters. The noise, the crowds, a particular player, the cold night air, a sense of a special occasion, or the emotions of the people around us.

I was fortunate that my Dad wanted me to watch games from an early age. We'd take in matches at Preston, Blackpool, Blackburn as well as Lancaster City. But he was always keen to take in European nights and that meant a trip to Anfield or the Racecourse at Wrexham. One was a complete write off when a game against Anderlect was swathed in fog, but we particularly enjoyed a 3-0 win over Trabzonspur in about November 1976.

Obviously we never became Liverpool fans. But the root of my Dad's love of European football opens up an extraordinary story of an English football coach who played a vital role in the shape of the game in the 1960s as club competition became more intense and styles collided.

My Grandfather, Stan Taylor, had been a Commando in the war, served his country heroically and was a man of some stature in the community in Lancaster where he moved to be the manager of Woolworths. He became friends with a man called Ted Smith, pictured above, who at the time was the landlord of a pub in Skerton, just over the River Lune from the town centre.

Here's the amazing story. Ted Smith had been a player with Millwall and Crystal Palace. For reasons and circumstances I can't fathom, but am eager to learn more about, he became the coach of Benfica. The foundations of the team he built included the legendary Jose Aguas, the lynchpin of the side that went on to break Real Madrid's dominance of European football in the 1960s. Ted had brought Aguas from Angola to Portugal and the two had a strong bond. I know this because my Dad witnessed their emotional reunion outside the Park Lane Hotel in London in 1962 when Benfica were in town for a European Cup semi final at White Hart Lane against the double winning Spurs side.

Such magical memories, such a proximity to the extraordinary lives of ordinary people has become part of our family folklore, even if I didn't realise it. These exotic influences on my Dad's life - a trip to London, seeing the greatest club side in the world at the time, meeting such legends. These things weren't accessible or easy to find back then. They shouldn't be now, either, but somehow television makes them rather less mysterious. That memory, those moments, encouraged my Dad to seek out such experiences for me. Maybe that what was also behind the first Subbuteo sets he got me, Juventus and Ajax - after the 1971 final.

I notice that Google puts a previous post by me about Ted Smith fairly high on the search criteria. I've been contacted since by Ted's son Harvey, and by a bloke writing a Millwall A-Z. Beyond that the trail is cold - I've found newspaper cuttings from Lancaster that rather coldly reports how "Mr Ted Smith, the former Benfica coach," became the manager of Lancaster City FC in 1967, as if that achievement was on a par with Barrow or Bamber Bridge. But what more can we celebrate and know of these pioneers, these adventurers who saw football as a route to a new life and amazing experiences that shape our culture today. People laud Terry Venables for what he did at Barcelona, but surely this was greater?

Harvey has told me via email that his father passed away in 1993 and is buried in Lisbon, where Benfica looked after him in his final years, respect and love from a fine club who remembered a hero of their history.

Where great minds meet

It was the trailblazer event for the Manchester Literature Festival last night. Zadie Smith read from her new novel NW, and was then interviewed by journalist and broadcaster Anita Sethi.

To me though the real stars of the show were the Manchester public - smart, clever, engaged and enquiring. It struck me this is just what Stuart Maconie was referring to in his chippy love letter to the North in the New Statesman recently - yes, sure, London has loads of intellectual events, but we have them too. It's also given me tons of inspiration to do more.

While I'm banging on about the festival, make sure you book early for my event - an audience with David Conn and Rodge Glass, two authors talking about Manchester, football and literature.

Northern Monkeys - a book about growing up

Next month will see the publication of a book I've been working on for the last few years. It's called Northern Monkeys and it's a journey through working class social history in the North of England.

At its centre is the "casual/dresser" scene of the 1980s - lads going to football in gangs, dressed to the nines in designer sportswear and often with violent motives. For me and Bill Routledge, the prime mover and guiding hand of the project, it's the period that defined and changed everything. Fashion, sport, work, pride, politics and it all came together in this uniquely volatile period of recent history. The book covers where it was all rooted, what it was like to be there at the time, who was first, how the looks of the time quickly mutated and how the key figures at the time went on to use that mindset to influence music and fashion to this day.

But to see it as a book about football casuals is an epic understatement. Its central core is a way of interpreting that movement and putting it slap bang in the context of some seismic social and cultural changes.

We start with tales of post-war austerity, moving through the sharp suits, the Teddy Boys and the Cunard Boys - Liverpudlian seamen who would stock up on rare fashion items on their international jaunts - clearly influencing their sons and heirs in the Transalpino era. Male narcissism and looking good was nothing new, of course, and the pack look of football lads of the 1980s clearly cocked a nod in the direction of the Mods and even skinheads of the previous two decades. Different scenes also fed into it - we've got a whole section of memories from Northern Soul devotees and the look and lustre of nights at Wigan Casino and Blackpool Mecca.

Where this look differed for those of us in Northern towns was that it was more DIY than many have previously acknowledged. The early Scouse pioneers tracked down rare Adidas trainers in Germany, the Manc innovators plundered market stalls for flares and leathers as the look evolved. But my early memories of the developing style was rooting out a Fila tennis top at Lancaster University sports shop, finding Pringle in old man's shops and a Peter Storm cagoul in an outdoors shop. For many it was about buying the look off the shelf in Hurleys in Manchester or Wade Smith in Liverpool, for early adopters, it never was.

The compiler of this has been a lad I'm now proud to call a good friend, Bill Routledge. He's cajoled and persuaded a huge range of mates and contacts to contribute various tales, some going back to the post-war period of austerity and community building in Northern towns like Preston, others are boot boys, skinheads, rockabillies and the most dominant cult of them all at the dawn of this movement - the punks. Bill and his crowd in Preston in 1981, like me and my Lancaster mates (pictured, right, in 1984), made a transition from punk to "football lad" - it was a remarkable transformation. This was the closest I ever got to being in a "firm" - Lancaster, Morecambe and Carnforth lads all supported different teams, the picture above covers lads who followed Blackburn Rovers, Morecambe, Manchester United, Blackpool, Rangers and Spurs, from memory. Can you spot me, by the way?

I've always carried this look on. During Fresher's week at University in 1985 I was turned away from the goth and punk night at the Ritz in Manchester for wearing chinos, deck shoes, a Lacoste polo and a red Italian chunky jumper. It didn't have a name then, but this was the emerging Paninaro look. By the time of our third year my mates were well into looking smarter too - we liked Chevignon, Chipie, C17 and Timberland for a night at the Hacienda or the Venue, way before the Madchester druggie rave scene. By the time we moved to London, the treasure trove that was Shop 70 on Lamb's Conduit Street in the 90s was a delight, and a few pieces of Stone Island and CP Company still adorn my wardrobe as a tribute to that era and that look.

For my bit of the book I've interviewed Robert Wade-Smith, Barry Bown from JD Sports and Gary Aspden, the former brand director of Adidas, as well as commissioning a few tales from lads who were there with stories to tell. The stories are long and revealing and I like to think I get what they're about, the journey they've been on and how their interpretation of brands and street fashion influenced the high street today.

One thing Northern Monkeys is certainly not is hoolie-porn, there's been enough of that to be honest, but it doesn't try and sugarcoat a movement that had football violence as one of its core identifiers.

So, here's the Northern Monkeys website, have a nosy at that. There's a Northern Monkeys Book Facebook page which we're using to gather some extra pictures and messages and you can join in this majestic nostalgia fest on Twitter by following @MonkeyNorth.

Toast Deli in Marple is no more - very sad

I was saddened to see that Toast Deli in Marple has shut its doors for the last time today. They offered a pleasant ambience with a modern foody feel. We had a delicious cooked breakfast there one Saturday and their coffee was excellent. The chicken liver pate (pictured) is a delight, though I last bought mine from our butcher in Romiley. Toast also worked hard on the community events and there were rave reviews for the tasting evenings. But, it must have been tough competing with All Things Nice, just 30 yards away, and though I divided my loyalties between the two, this does nothing to assuage my feelings of guilt that I didn't go there more often, or genuine sadness for the lovely staff in a place that tried to be new and different.

But the grim reality of the demise is what it says about Marple. Toast would probably thrive in a different location, not so far away. Dutsons and Libby's are doing well in nearby Marple Bridge, while Bramhall has quite a restaurant scene these days. Toast would have done so much better there, it would seem.

As one door closes two more open - a cafe and sandwich shop called Truly Scrumptious on the old site of Grenaby Farm Bakers has just opened; while Rileys, a new newsagents and butty bar opposite Costa Coffee on Stockport Road, is up for it. I'd argue that Grenaby couldn't live with Greenhalgh's and Greggs for cheap pies and bread, which leads you to think why do more of the same. While the popularity of Costa must have really hurt Toast and near neighbour All Things Nice, it has gained a certain magnetism even with grumpy staff. I wish the two new businesses well, but it is a tough market with the ever creeping presence of multiples making it harder for quality independents.

I also posed the question on this blog last week as to whether Marple was a Waitrose or an Aldi kind of place. I rather think we've just had the answer.

Empty seats at Ewood Park

Here I am, pictured, surrounded by empty seats at Ewood Park, home of the club I have loved since I was 11 years old. Obviously I'm not qualified to sit in that particular seat, but...
I didn't go much last season - three times in fact - I managed more than that in 1988-1989 when I lived in Australia from September. Last season's stayaway wasn't a boycott as such, partly it was because of the toxic atmosphere that the angry fans had created, but frankly, I just wasn't enjoying it anymore. Now, it's more straightforward. I refuse to give the club a penny of my money while Venky's are in charge.

I'm not a glory hunter, who will only go to Premier League games. My first season as a regular was 1977-1978 and Rovers were a mid-table Second Division side with an average crowd of about 7,000. We were in the same division as Blackpool, Burnley and Bolton. Preston were in the division below. I chose this. I made a conscious decision to support a local team instead of Manchester United, Leeds or Liverpool. All the good times were a bonus, an unexpected gift from a rich fan who helped this club do great things. Without him, well, we'd be in the Second Division, on a level with the rest of our Lancashire rivals. So no, I'm a realist and I'm not a spoilt child, but what the Venky's are doing is as poor a job at running down an institution as football has ever seen.

There is hardly anything worth saying on the subject, because there is nothing they can do to change my mind. Even if they do things which on the surface seem like good moves.

Signing new players It may well be that by chucking a few quid at the squad that Venky's believe they can get back up. Some of the signings seem OK, but my heart and head says they have absolutely no chance. Steve Kean's record speaks for itself.

Communicating better The connection to the fans was lost a long time ago, gimmicks and stunts have backfired, I have never rated Paul Agnew either as a PR man, or anyway capable of running the club. This new director of football, Shebby Singh, came across as a bumbling buffoon on TalkSport. The reaction from the manager that his comments at a Fan's Forum were "disruptive" was further evidence of how manipulative Kean is with the media and how he engineers every situation for his advantage. Always the victim, never his fault.

Colin Hendry The recruitment of Colin Hendry as a coach is far more complex than a hero returning, in fact it's as tangled as Hendry's financial affairs.

Winning games Last night was the first home game of the season. And it had the lowest crowd since 1993 when Ewood was a building site. I had no excuse for not going, and I missed being there and I was glad they won, in fact, I hope they win all the matches at Ewood. If anything I'm quite looking forward to an away game soon - though I couldn't possibly take this moral high ground and go to the next one - MK Dons away!

Sacking Steve Kean This seems unlikely, but it is their ace card. The fans have worked themselves up into a frenzy on this issue and his sacking would make them happy, but he's not the problem. I want them to go, and take him with them.

Lack of performance on the pitch hasn't persuaded Venky's to give it all up, but lack of corporate, sponsor and commercial support will hit them where it hurts. That, and the sight of all those empty seats.

My holiday reading

Remember beach and villa holidays where you'd read a book a day? Vaguely. I ambitiously took a stack of books I've been looking forward to reading. I was mildly disappointed in them all.

Dom Joly's Dark Tourist wasn't as funny as I expected it to be, nor as angry about the way places like Lebanon, Cambodia and North Korea are like they are. It's a strange juxtaposition, an anarchic comedian known for his irreverence visiting places that require sensitivity and reverence. That said, I enjoyed his anecdotes.

Reading Owen Jones' Chavs is like sitting opposite someone on a train who just goes on and on, and you end up just losing the will to argue anymore and end up agreeing with them. His central premise that the white working class have been unfairly demonised is fair enough. Where I dispute his argument and his conclusions is his ascribing a raw agenda of class war to Conservatives and a rather rosy view of unions and their role in workplaces. As a polemicist he's entitled to use any device he likes to make his point, but it tends to come across as rather shrill. In his new introduction, and lately on Twitter, he's addressed the riots of last summer. It was not a protest, it was raw criminality. To fail to acknowledge that is the politics of fantasy.

I enjoyed Nick Cohen's book, but his punchy style left me exhausted. There's too much "yebbut" - who are the people he is attacking, through such a wide subject as freedom of speech and censorship? 

"Because they believe the real enemy is at home, Western radicals ignore the victims of dictatorial states," he says. I'm not sure what some idiots on Comment is Free have to say is that important, to be honest. I loved What's Left?, his broadside on the decline of the moral left in Britain, but there are bigger subjects involved and far more deserving of scrutiny.

The whole issue of freedom of speech is currently at the centre of so many warped and undeserving starting points - Julian Assange, people who set up fake Twitter accounts, racist footballers, internet trolls. The moral maze is complex indeed.

Is Marple an Aldi, or a Waitrose, kind of place?

Stockport Council is pressing ahead with plans to develop Chadwick Street car park in the centre of Marple. Kirkland Developments is in pole position and is in partnership with a retailer.

It throws quite a cog into Asda's plans for developing a large store on the site of the Sixth Form College on Hibbert Lane. All their calculations on demand and consumer need will need reforecasting. Asda may be used to getting their own way, and may still do so.

But where does any of this leave the balance of Marple's shopping offer? What effect will this development have on the butchers, the bakers and the other local shops?

I notice a few more subtle changes to the retail make up now that I work here a few days a week. There's a new newsagent and sandwich bar planned on Stockport Road opposite Costa Coffee. The likely occupier of the old HSBC unit is Domino's Pizza. The new American sweet shop Stars and Stripes has gone down an absolute storm during the kids holidays - I wish them well and hope they don't refer too much trade to the business next door - the dentists. My favourite new addition to the centre has been the dog grooming shop on the corner of Hollins Lane.

Like it or not, the brands in an area say something about the sense of place and start to determine which other retail brands will gravitate to a location, but as much as I'd like a bustling cluster of independents, there is a remorseless march of the multiples.

So who arrives in Chadwick Street will have a huge bearing on the character of Marple.

Waitrose are on a massive expansion drive and have opened in Alderley Edge, Poynton and Cheadle Hulme recently. I'm pretty sure many Marple people like to think of their home on the same par as these places.

But what of the other likely expansive retail player on the prowl at the moment, Aldi? What if Aldi were to add to their successful stores in Hyde, Hazel Grove and Romiley with a new store in Marple? I shop at Aldi and often fill a trolley at the Hazel Grove store for about £30, then spend the same amount again on a basket at M&S Food next door.

I enjoy the savings, but can't say I enjoy the experience. It's pretty stark and functional and OK for the basics. But here's the deal, there's a market for this kind of thing in Marple. The Co-op is expensive, the local shops can't offer the range. The German discount retailer would go down a storm with a large part of the population. But would signal a huge move in the identity and direction of what Marple represents.

The future of the centre is becoming a sideshow while so much attention, rightly, is looking intently at the dastardly deeds of the College and their sneaky deal with Asda.

The question is, what kind of place is Marple? The one we are, the one we had, or the one we wish we could be, but aren't? I honestly don't know.

Our Olympic legacy

I can't add very much to the wall of plaudits for the London 2012 Olympics. We all really enjoyed the spectacle, the only regret being that our application to buy tickets yielded only football at Old Trafford - like we can never do that. How brilliant must it have been to have seen the athletics on either Super Saturday, but even just to have soaked up the atmosphere at the Handball or the Badminton.

There has been a lot of talk about inspiring a generation - I so hope that happens, even if all the evidence is that it makes no difference. In JJB the other day the sales assistant confirmed that people are buying more sports equipment, there is definite interest in running, tennis and cycling.

I worry that the education agenda is being kicked around by politicians eager to meddle and jump on a passing bandwagon - the aim shouldn't just be to produce 80 odd Olympians from the millions of children who take part in school sports, rather to make every kid feel that exercise and ambition are for them. That's inspiring a generation.

So in our house we've all got bikes. Partly it was the inspiration of Bradley Wiggins and co, but also that we are blessed to live in such a great place for cycling - the former rail line, the Middlewood Way, and all the canal tow paths are perfect.

My bike is a folding Dahon (right), single speed, pedal brakes and not much else. I bought it from Will's Wheels, which has a bike shop in Marple. I mention the local angle because it makes me feel slightly better about the fact the bike was made in Taiwan. I was tempted to get a British made Brompton after meeting Will Butler Adams last month, the MD of the iconic British bike company, but £800 is a stretch. Maybe next time.

The Dahon is excellent for taking on public transport and whizzing around Manchester. I was able to take it on the train to cycle friendly Milton Keynes recently, and it was ideal - but everywhere I go I'm stopped to talk about the bike, it's a real show stopper.

So there we are, a bit more opportunity for exercise and a quicker way to get around. However good the kids are at any of this only time will tell, but it's so important to hold those great feelings of exhilaration and embrace this sporting life in all its forms.

St Frank of North Liverpool

The awesome Olympic ceremony was a spectacle made and conceived by two proud sons of the North West, Danny Boyle and his mate Frank Cottrell Boyce, the writer. Frank has written an incredibly warm and wonderful account of his Olympic opening ceremony adventure and how he kept it all a secret for the last couple of weeks.

We went to the Hay Festival in June and met with Frank, firstly because after we watched his talk we queued up to get a book signed (pictured). Our kids love his writing and his sense of humour. I thought he did an amazing job of 24 Hour Party People - remember, "faced with the truth and the legend, always print the legend." And of course he was part of the team on Brookside when it was good. Personally, I love how he also articulates his Catholic faith in such a profound way. Not easy, not comforting, but almost ... obvious.

We then bumped into him again at Hay and stopped for a chat. He was even more lovely and impressive in person than I possibly imagined him to be. I asked him if he'd do a couple of things for projects I'm involved in. Long story short, he's agreed to. 

To see the universal acclaim for the opening ceremony makes me so proud of our tolerant and creative country and the embrace of a loving and diverse population. Even the nasty wing of the Guardian and Daily Mail and the keyboard warriors trying to be sage just reinforce the core of what Danny Boyle and Frank were pointing out. It was a piece of audacious, obvious, courageous genius. So do read the link, but if you can't be bothered, then my highlight is this:

"As Danny wrote in his introduction to the brochure: "We can build Jerusalem, and it will be for everyone." He'll hate me for saying this but he has a very Catholic sense that yes, this is a fallen world, but you can find grace and beauty in its darkest corners – even if you chop off your arm to do so."

Joe Birrell - Olympic Hero

Our kids had to do a presentation on an Olympic hero. Louis and Elliot chose a guy who competed in the 1948 "austerity" Olympics in London called Joe Birrell. He was my maths teacher at school and got me through my O Level resit. He never boasted about his sporting achievements, in fact he was a bit of an enigma to be honest. Here's a story about 'Joe Biz' from the Lancaster Guardian.

Steve Kean and Rovers - my concern over the Kean Out abuse

Of unknown origin, but borrowed from a fansite

To the Crown Ground, home of Accrington Stanley today for two Blackburn Rovers pre-season friendly matches. One against Fleetwood and another against the home side. I went out of curiosity and to chalk off a new ground, my 132nd.

Two totally different Rovers teams turned out. The first game was more of a practice match which Rovers won. The second was turgid and niggly with loads of mistakes. Rovers lost. You learn very little from a pre-season, but it is a good barometer of the mood around the club.

The fans are still feeling very raw. The abuse of Steve Kean, especially when the pubs emptied for the second game, was unrelenting. I have a worry about this. Were he to be sacked, the Venky's would immediately prick a bubble of protest. Hooray, they'd all celebrate, the problem is gone. But of course it hasn't. We have negligent, ignorant, hopeless owners. It is they who have destroyed the club. Sure, Kean has been a willing and atrocious accomplice, but all this is a diversion and lets Venky's off the hook.

Venky's must go, and they must take clueless Kean with them, but if people are in the mood to be angry, remember the real culprits. There are enough people who care about our club, we will also be "the club that won't die" but I'm still not prepared to give the club a penny while Venky's, Anderson, Kean and the whole shower remain. Aways only until then.

And no appearance for Myles Anderson either. Maybe he's off to Manchester United, now that Chris Smalling is injured?

The Purple Pakora - a cut above the average curry house

Picture of Purple Pakora taken by Ted of Mellor View

Maybe all curry houses are starting to get smarter, especially in the suburbs. Maybe I just need to get out more. Even though we were warned by pals that the Purple Pakora wasn't that good, we went anyway. And I liked Ted Stockton's review on the Mellor View blog. I've also sniffed its aromas enough times when I've arrived home at Marple station.

The popadoms were a little lifeless - but the accompaniments were excellent, especially the coleslaw.

We didn't order starters as we sometimes overdo it on my favourite - mixed tandoori grill. Our mains were off the special menu - lemon tikka chicken, a big chunky prawn bhuna, bhindi bahji, mutter panneer, pilau rice and a peshwari nan.

Everything was really fresh tasting and not too oily. The chicken was a particular surprise, very distinctive.

For me though the real test comes the next day when we eat what we couldn't finish for breakfast. Warmed up in the Aga it was just as delicious, and again, not greasy at all.

So yes, I would heartily recommend the Purple Pakora, a really good dinner. Others have suggested the Blue Nile in Hazel Grove is excellent, and the Indigo in Romiley is even better than that. Neither however have the advantage that they are walking distance from my new office and right outside Marple station.

The death of The Word magazine

It's sad when a magazine closes. All of the effort and emotional commitment coming to an end. It seems especially sad when the publication is well loved, but not by quite enough people. And so it was with The Word magazine, the August issue will be the last.

I've been a subscriber for six years and have found something to enjoy in each issue. The circulation at the back end of 2010 was 25,000, a new iPad edition had just been released and the podcasts were a regular delight. Their strapline, a friendly American accent pronouncing "The Word, a magazine, a podcast, a way of life" was an accurate depiction of a brand extension. Indeed, their foray into live events attracted fierce loyalty from "the Word massive" and the True Stories Told Live evenings were fully subscribed.

The news of the demise is covered on the BBC and Media Guardian and follows the line that the falling circulation made it a difficult business to sustain. Declining circulation for a print title is nothing new. Yet I rather suspect something else forced the issue at this moment in time.

First, all magazines make money from advertising and copy sales. The Word's advertising team seemed to consist of one person. But a metropolitan readership with higher than average discretionary income should be able to attract higher spending advertisers in greater numbers than they did. The problem seemed to be a sales strategy built on the content of the magazine - festivals, CDs and books. That worked very well in the era of "Fifty Quid Bloke" the demographic which the founders identified back in 2001. But successful consumer magazines also feature adverts for products that the readers will like irrespective of whether they are written about. There was rarely a sponsor for the podcast, which amazed me. At a time when a lot of brands do get the importance of Long Tail marketing, there are worse parts of the long tail to own than a hub of middle class culture vultures.

Second, the founders and popular talismen for the title, publisher David Hepworth and editor Mark Ellen, always contributed the better features in the magazine, but my feeling was they've lost their love of new music. The things they contributed to Radio 4 about and wrote about on blogs expose such a rich hinterland, I suspect this is where their love lies. There is only so much you can write about music after a lifetime of doing just that. The best of the rest of the features in The Word were always the non-music ones to my mind, or Eamonn Forde's epic rants about the changing economics of the industry, and it became the strength of the magazine and what provided regular moments of serendipity.

Thirdly, owner Development Hell is a lean business but has experienced media industry investors like Chris Oakley. Like David Hepworth, he has sharp antennae for what is going on and what needs to be done, and a rather gloomy view of print media's future. The trouble was, they didn't have the energy to do what they know needs to be done to do it properly. What surprises me is there isn't at least a plan to take The Word online only. Maybe it's an experiment in human nature to see how self sustaining the Massive can be. Which I suppose takes me back to the first two points.

I'll miss it hugely and hope that the incredible array of talent involved in its production and writing will find a place somewhere else. I note with some interest that Andrew Harrison, formerly of this parish is brightening up Q magazine these days.

On getting an Honorary fellowship from UCLAN

I was awarded an honorary fellowship today, my birthday, by the University of Central Lancashire. It was a really special day. My Dad and his wife were there, so was Rachel. I had to do a short speech to the students and their parents, which I include here.

Ladies and gentlemen, distinguished guests, recent graduates, parents and friends.

First of all, could I thank the University of Central Lancashire for this award.

50 years of running the journalism course is some achievement and I am honoured and humbled to be here today.

The kind words bestowed on me made several references to the journey I’ve been on through my career.

My hero, my inspiration to get into journalism, was Hunter S Thompson, the Godfather of Gonzo journalism. This was a quote attributed to him that fuelled my fire in the late 1980s:

“Journalism is a money trench, a long plastic hallway where pimps and thieves run free and good men die like dogs. It also has its downsides.”

I’ll come back to that.

But I am mindful today of the uncertainties that confronted me on my graduation day in 1988. And at many other occasions at crucial turning points in my life over the last 24 years.

None of what has happened to me was part of a masterplan.. Some things I fell into. Others I made happen.

Sometimes, I’ve been lucky. And you will be too.

But it’s hard out there, I know that.

But if I may, I would like to address my brief remarks to those of you receiving your first degrees and MA certificates today.

As an external marker and guest lecturer at this university, I know how hard you have worked to achieve your degrees today.

And I recognize too that many of you will be looking for careers in industries where the structures have crumbled and the very foundations of the media sectors you want to work in are in undergoing a constant period of change.

When I did a series of mock interviews with students from this university recently I was struck by a number of things.

Firstly, I was impressed at the lengths to which Cathy Darby (left), a wonderfully generous and devoted course leader had gone to extraordinary lengths in order to make you even more employable.

Secondly, it really struck me what a fantastic education you have received here. As I said to the group afterwards, I saw something in all of them that would have made me want to employ them and help them along.

But thirdly, I emerged with a certain sadness from the day because of the reluctance many of them displayed in wanting to show off their remarkable achievements.

The one skillset I never learnt at University, or I properly gripped until my second job, was entrepreneurship and enterprise. Don’t confuse that with selling your soul to the advertising devil. Or compromising your values and journalistic integrity.

And don’t think I mean becoming a big head.

But sell your achievements. Be proud of who you are and what you have done. Make the person sat opposite think that you can make their life easier and better by working with you. The same applies to a film graduate pitching an idea, or those of you with business degrees looking to raise funds for a business idea.

Realise that old people like me need young people like you, to understand how the emerging generation use social media tools like Facebook and Twitter as instinctively as we use our thumbs.

But think too what advertisers want, but create for yourself a space to do what you do best – to tell stories and speak truths.

But how you do that is changing too. Like at no other time in the 50 years of this course.

Rightly, this University, through the Journalism Leader’s Programme, is at the forefront of research and debate about the future of media. Get involved and stay close to that work.

The most successful amongst you will start to work out a new and different economic model for content. I’m sure you are doing that already.

A friend of mine used to have a suitcase full of contact cards that he’d drag around between the Sunday Times and the Manchester Evening News and, God help him, the Daily Star.  Now of course they’ll be his contacts on LinkedIn, or saved on his phone – and backed up on a cloud.

It shows the power of networks, the connections between people that make things happen.

Contacts are currency – so work hard on building your own networks, starting today on this day where all of you in the room, from countries all over the world, have something that links you for the rest of your lives – your graduation day.

Back finally, to Hunter S Thompson. That quote I shared at the start is made up. It’s a composite, a twisting of the truth. These things often are.

Don’t rely on Google and Wikipedia. Talk to real people and get real quotes.

But there is a further skill you will all need. 

Kindness.

You just never know who will be able to help you. So in everything you ever do, remember these three things. Be honest, be loyal, be kind.

And remember the old Chinese proverb, which may also be made up, but it still stands – “the wise man knows everything, the shrewd one knows everyone.”

Doing the radio with Gordon Burns

I really enjoy reviewing the papers on the Sunday morning programme on BBC Radio Manchester and BBC Radio Lancashire. It's hosted by the peerless Gordon Burns, who at 70 years of age has lost none of his wit or analytical skills. I've been on about 7 times now. Each one has been different, sometimes the stories that dominate have been uniform across the papers, sometimes they've been wildly different so we have to pick out the nonsense as well as the scoops.

It's also great fun working out the interests and complementary strengths of whichever other journalist is in that day. The last one was with Cerys Griffiths, the brilliant former editor of BBC North West Tonight and who now works at BBC Learning. She was super quick and knew how to summarise a story perfectly.

I enjoy the spontaneity of radio and the ability to project real emphasis to an idea. I also like the interaction around an idea with other people. Next time I'm doing should be in the thick of the silly season. Should be brilliant.

A cool video from the Learning Journey event

Asda reveals Marple plans

Asda have unveiled their plans for a supermarket on Hibbert Lane in Marple on the site of the sixth form college. The exhibition of the plans mainly highlight that the sale of the site will enable the construction of a new college on Buxton Lane just around the corner (pictured).

My first thought when I saw the leaflet was, oh , that looks alright. Then you read it with a more sceptical eye and it adds up to the same thing you always feared, a dirty great supermarket close enough to a town centre to threaten it, not close enough to complement the offer. As a piece of public affairs lobbying it contains all the depressing hallmarks of a slick corporate operation ticking all the right boxes and using buzz words like "community". A series of leading questions at the back of the leaflet make it seem like they're going to solve all the problems of traffic, sick children, sports provision, education and cheap food. You can read a well argued destruction of all this sophistry on the Marple in Action website.

There is no doubt that things will change forever round here. A developer has also purchased a car park site in the centre of Marple with a view to another supermarket opening closer to the centre and within the retail core, while the Asda plan is outside of it. It is more likely than not to be Waitrose.

There are plenty of empty shops in Marple, and a few really crummy businesses which lower the bar of expectation. But what is the centre for? What more can do done to add to the attraction of the place and sell stuff that people actually want. Allowing an Asda to come in, where their customers won't touch the rest of Marple's other stores will be a disaster.

Boomerang - The Meltdown Tour by Michael Lewis

Great book this, for the most part. Michael Lewis deals with the banking crisis of 2008 with detailed reportage from countries at the centre of the storm, but with mixed results Iceland (harsh), Ireland (fair), Greece (harsh and fair), Germany (over obsessed with scat). And then there's a very bizarre final chapter on California, which doesn't fit. It doesn't feel like a book, more a collection of associated long Vanity Fair magazine pieces, which it is.  But for my money, the journalism and analysis on the Iceland and Ireland pieces is peerless.

A month off blogging to get my head straight

Hello - and greetings from my new office at Lockside Mill in Marple.

I have really enjoyed doing this blog over the last few years. It's been a useful and valuable release to comment and pontificate on things of importance to me. But since I started Think More at the start of the month, I've left the Marple Leaf alone in order to work out what it's for and what I should include on here.

Well, I've got a different set of priorities now. I always said, this blog isn't about work, it's about the other stuff. That's slightly changed now, as so much is now so integrated into everything else.


Even though I never updated this blog during office hours at Insider - access to Blogger is banned, along with Facebook and Friends Reunited - running my own business absorbs all that extra capacity in the evenings and weekends, as does having five kids.

But I am going to carry on with it and include relevant content. This is what this post is about.


The most popular topics on the blog are Blackburn Rovers, Marple and Manchester. The other subjects I like to drop in here are shameless namedropping, daft lists, cultural observations and something of an archive for concerts we go to, books I read, friends we share time with, and a few things about TV programmes.

All of them have changed their role in my life to varying degrees.

Firstly, I am totally fed up with Blackburn Rovers and will not be setting foot inside Ewood Park while Venky's are in charge. I despair of what has happened and cannot think of another way of expressing my disgust. I will go to away games occasionally, as I still support my team. There will be occasional blogs and I will be changing the inscription at the top of this blog's flag to something that captures my stubborn hostility to Venky's and yet the love for what still might be. However, what I will say is this: as I am now involved in a business with Ian Currie, who has tabled a bid to buy the club, I will be very careful on what I say and be mindful of how that will be interpreted. We'll see. Just don't expect any leaks.



Secondly, Marple, the small town where I live, is on a real knife edge at the moment. The Portas bid is in. The pre-planning consultation process on Asda's plan for a new supermarket on Hibbert Lane is well underway. Shops are starting up and closing down, local facilities are in need of upgrade. I will be blogging on all of this regularly. The added spice is I'm also working from Lockside Mill, an amazing business premises in Marple.



Now that I'm no longer working in frontline journalism I also have an opportunity to say a few more things about where the media is going, especially on some of the deeper issues around morality and commerciality. I've backed off previously for fear of my comments being made into a story on How Do. That said, I'm gutted that The Word magazine has folded and that has upset my thinking somewhat.


Fourthly, I've also taken on a new role as chairman of Downtown Manchester in Business, a fantastic business lobbying group that exists to channel private sector views on the development of the city and broker connections between members for new business relationships. I'll link to Taking the Michael, my weekly chairman's blog which will focus on many of the subjects about my favourite city.


Finally, there's the guiding mission of my new business Think More. It is this: to get the people of the North to think more, to take part in debates that are shaping our lives, through the forum of live events that stimulate and inspire. There will be blog content on that site which serves that purpose.

Phew.

Zombies don't like fizzy drinks

A video made by our lads. Fantastic production skills.