Meeting the editors

I did a talk this morning to an event called Meet the Editors. Also presenting were Chris Barry from the Manchester Evening News and James Wilson from the Financial Times. It was organised by How Do, a new portal for the media industry in the region and held at the offices of Cobbetts Solicitors. This is what I had to say:

When I was a kid there were just three TV channels, our home took a daily paper and a weekly local paper. At different stages in my life I’ve had a magazine – or comic - that’s touched my life and my interests.

Beano - Victor – Roy of the Rovers – Smash Hits – the NME – The Face – When Saturday Comes – Loaded – Private Eye – Golf Punk and most latterly – a new magazine called Monocle, which is basically 'The Economist in Prada'.

We can plot our lives with what we read.

People engage with their media. And now more than ever we spend more time at work, more time thinking about our careers. What we learn in our work affects what we earn. Knowledge is power and how we use information and intelligence gives us a critical advantage.

I was faced with a choice at a difficult age. My first two jobs were on an Australian music magazine and – unlikely as it looks today – on a monthly glossy fashion magazine.

Fashion is as shallow as you'd expect, but I soon learned that music journalism is people who can't write, interviewing people who can't talk, in order to provide articles for people who can't read.

It’s a career trajectory that – all going well – I’d probably have been sacked from Heat Magazine five years ago and would now be appearing on those Channel 4 nostalgia programmes talking about why Magpie was better than Blue Peter.

My next job back in the UK was the most important in my career – in 1989 I worked for a magazine called IBM System User. It was for IT managers when there weren’t that many of them. Instead of the appalling cycle of arse kissing I’d have to do to get a ten minute interview with a soap star promoting a new type of shoe. I was getting my calls returned from board directors of Johnson & Johnson, Midland Bank while executives from the software suppliers would want to talk to us.

Now, I didn’t get computing. I used to pretend to laugh at incomprehensible in-jokes about programmers.

What I was experiencing for the first time were the close ties that a B2B magazine can build with its readers. Ties that are far superior to those a mass-market consumer magazine will have.

You might see the editor of Heat on TV from time to time, but does he regularly want to get in front of large part of the mass market that reads his title? We do. We are part of the market we serve, part of the fabric of that community and that's good fun.

As a media form we are unique in that we enjoy the trust of our audience. And trust is very important.

In our industry publishers must put this audience at the heart of their businesses and build exciting new models and ways to touch their community in ways that work, be they print, online and physical events tailored to suit each different part of the business community.

When I think of the successful business titles they are the ones that offer a range of opportunities for readers to engage. Broadcast, Computer Weekly, Real Deals, Retail Week and Accountancy Age spring to mind.

I’ve used that word a great deal. Community. It’s why I think regional newspapers are declining and having to reinvent themselves as media providers that touch their readers in different ways.

Does technology hold any fear. No, not at all. You have to embrace it, but wisely.

The technology world is incredibly adept at providing pretenders to challenge any King. Publishers have a duty and responsibility to be astride of this.

As for the threat to our business from a blog, or a user generated site, I’d refer back to the trust issue again. You hear some news, or some comment regarding your own world – which one do you trust more – one attached to a magazine brand like Insider, or a media brand like the FT, the BBC or Insider or some blogger trying to build a following by being controversial.

This is an incredibly exciting time for our industry and a great opportunity for us to seize.

Business coverage in the national papers is enormous now compared to what it used to be.

On TV entrepreneurs are genuinely hailed as heroes now. Who would have thought the Apprentice and Dragons Den would have taken off in the way they have.

The liberal leaning media in this country has woken up to the fact that wealth is created by risk takers.

How have we come to this place at this point in time? The answer, and I apologise for sounding a bit grand, is the fundamental shift in power in the global economy away from governments, politics and our elected representatives and towards the power of the corporation and of the global economy. Interest in politics is low – more people voted in the final night of Channel 4’s Big Brother than voted in the local council elections.

Newspaper editors have been forced to reassess the traditional view that politics is the priority on the news agenda.

The media's heightened interest in finance reflects the growing awareness that real power is shifting from politicians to big business.

That brings with it certain attentions. Business has always been there to be knocked down in the free press of a free society. Private equity seems to have become the bogeyman of corporate Britain at the moment.

It’s easy to see why. Inward investment into a region and the economic effects of a new factory, call centre or a retail outlet has profound implications for the communities in which people live.


The genesis of public involvement in share ownership was the large-scale privatisation of the Thatcher era. In the 90s, that was cemented by the windfalls from demutualising building societies and insurers. According to the department of social security, a third of Britons now own shares.

Interest has also been raised by widespread home ownership, providing many with a sizeable lump sum of capital for the first time - another Thatcher legacy. Cash in the bank and a private pension invested in the stock market produces a vested interest in the economy and sharpens your interest in the financial pages.

But what of magazines now?

At Insider we cover stories that effect business people in the North West. Insider has always been seen as strong in the professions, in the property market and has a strong tradition of investigative journalism and independent editorial. We have a shelf full of awards.

But we’re not a magazine about stuffy business issues, we’re a magazine about people in business. Not a magazine about business processes. That would be pretty dull for you, and for me.

We have seen our magazine change and evolve to reflect changes in the regional economy, to highlight the regeneration process and the development of new economy industries. This has resulted in a building boom, an increase in the way investments are made and therefore a shift in the types of advertisers who want to reach our target market.

At the heart of our philosophy, which has seen the company radically change since I arrived in 2000, has been our regional place. We believe we fill in the gaps where the national media just don’t get. We seek to be a media that you guys want to read, we want to host events that you want to come to and create a community that you want to your advertising messages to reach.

As you know we also have stories relating to the activities of the professions, the property market, and how these industries can help business people. Our lists of achievers such as the Power 100, the 42 under 42, and the North West Rich list– a list of the region’s wealthy - are popular, but we are constantly revising these and are open to new ideas to keep the magazine fresh.

Business is exciting, you deal with people who are driven by a passion and an energy to succeed. They create wealth and success and they ooze confidence and enterprise. It’s very infectious. Business communications has to convey this. It has to be the broker of quality conversations. You will find people have high standards, if you are willing to match those, then we can all thrive and prosper as a result.

Thank you.

Racist bullies

This from Manchester Confidential today about the confused moral tone following Bernard Manning's death:

This is clear in today’s priceless Manchester Evening News. The main headline reads ‘Bernard has the last laugh’ and mocks the ‘politically-correct’ who turned their backs on him. Meanwhile the back page has a headline reading ‘Don’t let those race bullies win’, about City’s Nedum Onuoha being racially insulted during England’s match against Serbia. But surely dear MEN, the Serbians didn’t really mean it did they? They were just having a laugh like good old Bernard, weren’t they? Don't be so politically correct.

The link is here, but spare yourself the trouble of the unmoderated comments.

Bernard Manning - the last laugh

I have never laughed as hard as I did when I saw Bernard Manning perform. He dared you to laugh at him, and he always surprised. Manning, who died today, was a genius of comedy, but had become reduced to a relic. I first saw him at his Embassy Club in the 1980s when he whipped up the audience to a jingoistic frenzy, introducing "a couple of army lads just back from the Falklands", how the crowd roared, some standing to their feet in fist waving approval. "Pedro and Carlos, they're Argentinian," he said.

The last time, a couple of years ago at Mere Golf Club, and after many many debates over his racism and supposed hatred, he was as sharp as ever, but more reflective. He didn't use the P word or the N word, which I was pleased about at the time as it showed he'd realised the offence he caused. He'd never admit he'd toned it down though. He told the joke about the old Jewish guy on his death bed that was on the news tonight - "Becky, you're a curse" - and he worked the room for a good couple of hours.

He was a comic genius, Peter Kay is but a cleaned up version with tamer references to his Nana. The world moves on, quite how much is perhaps exemplified by the delivery of the news of his death; sandwiched as it was between the furore over the award of knighthood to the inpenetrably pretentious Salman Rushdie, and reports that Serbian football is supported by, and played by, a particularly nasty type of racist.

I have to say though, I had him in our death sweep at work, but some chiselling crook changed the rules without telling me.

New regime at Rovers

Alan Nixon, a well connected freelance journalist in the Cheshire footballer belt has smoked out who has bought Rovers (his mate the chairman, John Williams, probably told him). The new owner is an expat called Daniel Williams (no relation to John), based in New Jersey, and he's been working with Walter Hubert, a director from the old days.

The full story is here. The price tag of £67m is way off beam, my source reckons it's £30m.

The other name in the frame is Nigel Morris, the founder of Capital One bank and a Lancaster Royal Grammar School alumni. He's a Spurs fan but may be interested in an investment. Kevin Roberts is also sniffing around football. Another LRGS old boy, KR is a Man City fan, but really loves the egg chasing variety of sport: "The global rugby community is something special and is unparalleled in sport," he says.

Book review in a lift - Cider With Roadies

Book review in a lift - Cider with Roadies by Stuart Maconie. I've always enjoyed Stuart Maconie's writing, but this book takes a while to get going and I asked its owner (Neil Tague, business journalist of the year) why he enthused. Taguey advised me to fast forward to the NME bits. Good advice. Superb tale of journalistic shenanigans and making stuff up. Best bit: hanging out with the Happy Mondays. Initially 5/10, rising to 9/10. Bit like the NME in the 80s and 90s.

Nearest the pin

I'm rubbish at golf. I don't play enough, but I'm not going to give up because I like the game immensely. If I can keep my head down and play through the ball I can hit some decent shots. Putting is OK for a hacker, chipping needs a bit of work. Driving is simply atrocious. Playing with my pal Pat Loftus yesterday showed me how far I've got to go.

Still, one of us won "nearest the pin" on the 7th at Worsley Park. It wasn't Pat. To date it is the only thing I've ever won at golf apart from a few Euros from a badly hung over accountant called Jason Hiley.

This pic is the proof, though the word of a chartered accountant of some repute should be enough too.

A pro on the same competition, Harry Proos, also got a hole in one. But he's a pro.

The law of the jungle

This week has been fascinating observing the behaviour and attitude of road users. Everyone's back at work at the moment. The roads are full again and the rain has made people a bit more edgy.

I'm not a particularly aggresive driver. I tend to let more people out of drives, turn right and merge than I have to, but kindness costs nothing and you hope people will do it for you. Well, until a month ago they did, but that's because I was driving around in a 4x4. I tell you what, people got out of the way. When you came to merge, they would let you merge. Now I'm in a rented regular car until my new one arrives I get nudged out of lanes and flashed at the rear by flat track bullies. One graceless idiot this morning on the M67 at Denton island was driving a Golf (a woman, as it goes), a pushy berk was revving his Mondeo as if the most important thing in his world was not letting me merge in when three lanes become two.

This NEVER happened when I drove the beast.

Also, I will be calling a company in Sheffield this morning to inform them that their van driver on the A57 at Gorton is unfit to drive a commercial vehicle.

Where good men die like dogs

I used to write about the television industry. Indeed, I worked for a TV production company for a year. Compared to just about every other industry I have ever had dealings with it is a nasty snake pit of egos and talentless dorks stabbing each other in the front.

It was with amusement that this blog - The Secret Blog of a TV Controller - has been so widely talked about in telly land. I've already spotted a couple of people I used to know. The author is clearly having a great time putting reputations to the sword. As one Marple Leaf reader commented - "Levels of cruelty you just don't see in the Marple Leaf."

HollEwood

It really is the silly season for football. Our Weekly News service today reported that the Manchester City deal is close to collapse, but that Rovers are close to a sale with an American buyer. I heard this story yesterday and have failed utterly to stand it up today, but Rovers have confirmed that talks are ongoing. I've heard the deal is done, the price was £30m.

The whole business of football defies the logic of any other kind of businesss. And the football media - the amiotic fluid of the whole football circus - plays an unwitting game in releasing nonsense. Take Manchester City (no-one else will, story here), a deal to sell the club to a foreign politician in exile is dead in the water. To keep that story off the back page of the Manchester Evening News, the club con supporters into thinking the board have a clue and hope they'll renew season tickets after they concoct the speculation that they want Mark Hughes as manager. I'm sure they do! I expect they'll be lucky to get Graeme Souness.

As for Rovers going west - I'd have preferred it if the Walker family had taken more interest, it's what Jack Walker wanted his settlement to do, or for other wealthy and professional Lancastrians to have taken the club on and run the club as a supporters trust. The key for any owner is a stable management that can keep us in the top half of the Preimership and qualifying for Europe.

I think one of the risks of football is that young fans are being priced out of attending matches and are getting out of the habit. Strangely at Rovers the 16,000 hard core and 10,000 soft core are younger and more rooted than the core support of other clubs. The pricing policy of the present regime is wise to this fact and seems to be taking a long term view.

Talk of the Town

Had the great pleasure of appearing on Talk of the Town on BBC Radio Manchester today, live from the Cornerhouse Cafe. Apparently it's possible to download from here.

Presenter Anthony Wilson was on great form as ever. He's looking thinner, as you would having been zapped so much in his scrap to beat cancer, but he's doing OK.

Also on the (not so) comfy sofas were top PR man and my occasional fixer Chris Bird and Iain Lindley, a fresh faced Tory councillor from Walkden, who has his own blog, here.

We put the world to rights between us, subjects ranged from: Cameron, Blair, Marple, local cinemas, Channel 4, the London Olympic logo, Big Bloody Brother, Diana, Food, Manchester City, local politics, the G8, Barcelona, the Bruges rosette, dogs, cricket, drugs, Liverpool and finally, why Iain Lindley needs to get a proper job.

My mistake

I make a point of absolutely avoiding anything at all to do with reality TV shows. I think they are a scar on our culture. Exploitative, appalling, mind numbing and the very epitome of the shallowness and craven stupidity they need to feed off and grow and mutate.

So there I was listening to a discussion on institutional racism in the police this morning on Radio Five, which ended up being about Big Brother. Aaaaaggghhh. I don't care, I don't need this rubbish in my life. Go away. Please report on something useful that matters.

I leave the final word on this subject to Lord Puttnam, deputy chairman Channel 4.

"I am not proud of the Big Brother row - I am not even proud of Big Brother. But Big Brother accounts for 15 per cent of the total revenue that keeps Channel 4 afloat."

Damned United - review

I did manage to read a couple of books on holiday. The best was Damned United by David Peace. Here's how I'd review it if someone asked me, in a lift, "any good?".

Brian Clough so hated dirty dirty Leeds and that cheating bastard Don Revie that he took the job as their manager when "he" got the England job. Clough lasted 44 days. This remarkable novel, written as a diary, is a raw, blistering and believable tale of envy and ambition in football. You have to remember though, that after the bitter conclusion he went on to manage Forest and conquered Europe, young man.

It also had a feeling of a Gordon Burn novel, who I like very much.

The dangers of swagger

I presented to a CBI event this morning.

This is an abridged version of my speech here. I think I may have upset one or two people with references to Manchester getting a bit uppity.

Lately there have been cries that Manchester is – according to the Lonely Planet guide – the UK’s capital city in waiting.

There were claims on a recent visit to New York by several senior members of the slick suited Manchester illuminati that Manchester was many things. "The first modern city of the post industrial age." "The original modern city." "The cradle of the second industrial revolution." "The birth place of the computer." Reading them back verbatim in the pages of the New Yorker was painful. It must serve as a warning that Manchester at times has a tendency to disappear up its own backside of self importance.

Then there is the whole minefield of standing up to London wherein lies a second danger in challenging London. It’s fine to come up with smart slogans that say – it’s grim down south – as the NWDA did - if you can back it up with enough evidence that Manchester is really challenging London. Think carefully though about what kind of city London has become – the centre of music, food, fashion, theatre, finance, retail, brands, major global companies, home to some of the richest people in the world, the home to new ideas and major media voices.

And yet, It IS economically unsustainable. You need to earn £150K a year to really enjoy London.

London is also:

Unaffordable housing.
Crowded infrastructure.
Crime out of control.

Manchester is none of these things - good or bad - and nor should it aspire to be. A touch of humility and a touch of realism can continue to project Manchester on a trajectory of economic and cultural growth that can make it desirable.

If Manchester is to forge a bright future then some integrity and aspiration would not go amiss. Yes, have the swagger, but take everyone with you.

There are gaps in London’s offer
Finance for real businesses
A proper meeting place and a trading community.
Manchester has always been where people come together to share. And is it not true that the art of good business is being a good middleman – putting people together.

The UK needs places for its best creative and entrepreneurial people to live and to be a home to growing businesses in sectors that Britain needs to steal a march on – interactive gaming, environmental technologies, the next generation of the internet.

Business tourism also needs to up its game – by that I mean Manchester as a thriving convention city where there is much to attract everyone from software programmers to tripe dressers.

But what this country needs more than anything is new ideas for a new century. They don't necessarily have to be original, or modern, just the right ones.

Instead of looking to what London has, civic leaders can look at what London can no longer carry, but which the UK needs. And which no other city can offer it in anything like the same way as Manchester.

Picture this

One of the most enjoyable aspects of an editor's job is judging awards. We're supporting a photography competition called This Working Life. You can link to it here.

The idea is to encourage the best student photographers to produce a piece of work - up to 10 photos - of a workplace. I've really enjoyed being involved. Admittedly, some of the photography was pretentious rubbish that betrayed the immaturity of the students - work is something to be portrayed as grim, stifling, oppressive. But there was a great deal of humour and character revealed too.

I can't reveal the winner, but I think we made the right decision. One of the things about judging is meeting people with a totally different background to me. We had a curator, an exhibition director, a picture editor from the Economist, some proper arty photographers and a venture capitalist.

Most impressive was the work where employees took pictures to reflect their own workplaces.

Rule Bretagne

We've just got back from a longish break in Brittany. It rained for pretty much the whole time we were there, apart from the last two days which were so hot most of us got sun stroke. My good pal John Dixon appeared to have had a damp time of it in the Vendee as well. Here are ten random thoughts about our holiday:

Most French towns and villages are like the creepy town in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. The restaurants were nearly all devoid of children, even the one we went to in Paris. Adults stared in horror at our brood. They don't greet you like the Spanish and Italians do.

The nicest most fun meal in France we had was on the campsite.

The best meal of the whole trip was in Abingdon, Oxfordshire at Pizza Express on the way home.

I struggle to find good French wine at home, we didn't have a bad glass all week when I was there. Wish I'd brought more back.

French trains are great.

If you're stuck on a soggy campsite in France then a day trip to Paris is great fun. Don't try and pack too much in though.

Campsites are great fun - when it's sunny.

Adventure sports in France -like a high wire are more relaxed than the health and safety stricken equivalents at home.

Sliding down a waterslide with your bum cheeks exposed makes you go faster.

Pedalos with two wheels are much faster than the ones with the one single wheel in the middle.

The fields of Athens, cry

I was going to bottle out of blogging about the European Cup Final and its aftermath.

The Liverpool Echo has splashed on the tear gas attack by Greek police on innocent women and children, which is shameful. You can even see the video of it here.

Nigel Hughes has bravely had his say here. This is a flavour.

As usual the travelling football fans have tried to absolve themselves of any responsibility for the chaos that ensued outside the ground. Also as usual though, the truth will be that some football fans behave like absolute idiots once they get more than a mile from home.
Last night's incident is even more galling in that it involved Liverpool supporters. Some of the culprits last night will be among those who hold a vigil for the 96 every April. Most of them will still refuse to buy The Sun. Most of them will claim that they will not rest until every employee of South Yorkshire Police has been hung, drawn and quartered.
The hypocrisy of this is quite staggering.

English football fans seem to have shorter memories than the police forces of Europe. The days of widespread violence weren't that long ago - no one is even mentioning Heysel - and mobs of beery lads chanting songs all day long is quite alien to the rest of Europe. I have no doubt in my mind the same chaos would have blighted the event had Chelsea or Man Yoo got to the final. Blame whoever you want, the Greeks, Rick Parry, the police, UEFA, none of it hides the fact that the stadium was full and people didn't see the game, because some fans "stole" the places of others.

Athens was a poor choice of venue. Next year's final is in Moscow.

Book review in a lift - The Modfather

I've just finished reading The Modfather - My Life with Paul Weller by David Lines.

Here's my book review in a lift.

Just as Nick Hornby had Arsenal, so this bloke has The Jam. He didn't actually know Paul Weller, he grew up in Leeds as a Jam fan. As he's the same age as me I thought I'd like it for the Jam stuff. I did, but liked the "growing up" bits too. He sounds like a self-centred, cowardly, pretentious tit as he recounts his teens, but then we probably all were. I know I was.

6 out of 10.

Reporting live from Manchester (or not)

I went to see John Simpson last night, the BBC Foreign Correspondent, speaking at the Pro -dot - Manchester annual dinner at the Midland Hotel. However, though I was invited (and accepted), there was no seat for me. Apparently I was to be sat with company "B", or was it company "E"? Despite being invited by company "M" on behalf of organisation "P". And having turned down a further invite from company H.

I was offered a seat by someone who would then have had to sit on the floor and eat stale loaves, which was kind, but I'm not the sort of person to come over all Russell Crowe.

When I heard the traditional buck passers answer of "there's been a breakdown in communication" I suddenly saw a vision of a nice comfortable sofa with my beautiful wife and a cheeky glass of Pinot Grigio.

Here's a report:

"John had some amusing anecdotes and spoke quite openly about his experiences and answered questions well, even the more stupid ones! He even went into discussing how he has recently had a baby thanks to the box of Viagra sat on his bedroom table!"

Form is temporary, arrogance is permanent

No group of football supporters in the world can beat Liverpool for sheer pomposity.

What's better? This?

There's a link to more of this sort of thing here.

Or do you prefer this?

I don't think our much more basic "C'MON ROVERRRS" banner will echo in eternity, but I like it.

Also for your amusement is a link here to You Tube featuring David Bentley and David Dunn in a dance off in a Preston night club following the players awards do last week.

Ten thoughts on modern architecture

The People's Property Award concluded last night. Here are ten of my thoughts on the buildings that made the final shortlist.

City of Manchester Stadium - One of the better new stadiums. Lacks atmosphere on match days.

Hilton Tower - A grand structure, but possibly a missed opportunity.

Imperial War Museum North - Awesome, but pretentious.

The Jerwood Centre Grasmere, for the Wordsworth Trust - Beautiful. I love slate.

Blackburn Station and Transport Interchange - It's a roof.

National Football Museum, Preston - externally horrible, but the venue is a treasure.

Aintree - Breathtaking from all angles. A worthy winner.

Jaguar House, Chester Zoo - Lovely building, but still just an animal house,

Kingsmead School - never seen it.

FACT Centre - Great building, great asset to Liverpool

And the winners are...

There were double celebrations all over the North West last night. Our People's Property Award has gone down a storm with over 30,000 votes cast in the competition to find the public's favourite modern building across the region.

The winner was Aintree Racecourse. Collecting the award was the architect, Gavin Elliot from BDP.

But I'm also excited about a double win for Insider last night at the Merseyside Media Network Awards. My lads Neil Tague and Damien Wiehl won in the best business writer and best designer categories. David Casey even won the raffle!

Damien is a really imaginative designer. He can produce magazine covers of incredible complexity as well as others with breathtaking simplicity. What they all have in common is a refreshing originality. I'm so pleased his talent has been recognised in such a way.

This is his masterpiece of the last year:

Taguey is on a stag do in Spain somewhere so wasn't even there to get his award. Here's a picture taken last year of him contemplating his next exciting news scoop.

Waste disposal

I hosted the North West Business Environment Awards at the Bridgewater Hall last night, full list of winners can be found here. It was a good event, we kicked off with a chat show discussion about how businesses can meet the challenge of climate change and good waste management. Joe Dwek and Paul Monaghan even disagreed on a couple of things about energy which made for good entertainment.

I enjoy doing these kind of things but every now and again I have to read something off a script that makes me want to gag. One award for environmental good practice in the public sector went to the most useless organisation in Christendom - the North West Regional Assembly - a quango with neither point nor purpose. It seems they won the award for ordering lots of fair trade tea and coffee and occasionally emptying their waste bins and recycling paper. They would make an even greater contribution the environment if they simply stopped producing irrelevant reports and nonsense press releases altogether.

The people have spoken

Voting has now closed in our People's Property Award which we've been working on with the BBC North West Tonight. We had over 20,000 votes for the final run off, absolutely incredible. We've all been bowled over by how much it's captured people's imagination.

I know who's won, but I can't tell you. The winner will be revealed at our awards do tonight at Manchester Central. There will also be a whole load of other awards handed out tonight as well. Should be a good night.

Who let the dog out?

Although I have no interest in the FA Cup I was mightily amused that a proposed tune from within the ranks of the red menace has been winging its way around our office today.

"JOSE, wherever you may be
Ji Sung Park ate your dog for tea
you won f*ck all and your dog is dead
why don't you get a cat instead?"

Aside from the puerile and dodgy nature of this, the giddy popularity of this ditty shows just how much Jose Mourinho has fallen out of favour with the public. There's a good piece in the paper about this today. You can link to it here.

And the winner is...Blackburn Rovers

It was the Blackburn Rovers player of the year dinner at Ewood last night, the first of three awards events I've got on this week - environment awards tomorrow, which I'm hosting, then the enormous Insider Property Awards North West on Thursday at Manchester Central.

It was a great do with a wonderful buzz around the room and a great togetherness between the players themselves and with the fans who were there. The awards were compered by another milkman's son from Lancaster - Graham Liver, currently talking for a living on BBC Radio Leeds - and the whole show was very slickly put together. After a fairly sour experience at the event four years ago when the manager didn't even turn up to what was a glorified pub quiz I was initially reluctant to bother. But my pal Stephen Ashworth told me it would be worth a trip out and that this was one of the many things have changed under Mark Hughes, who he knows well.

ALL the players were there, all the directors, all the coaching staff and no-one was showing any attitude or swaggering about like Charlie Big Potatoes. They seem a very close group. The awards went to David Bentley (fans player of the year), Benni McCarthy (players player and goal of the season), Christopher Samba (new lad), Matt Derbyshire (young player), Brett Emerton (contributor), Brad Friedel (performance) and to accompany news of his new contract extension - Tugay (most man of the match awards).

We had a good chat to the gaffer. The Intertoto holds no fear for him, it's part of the pre-season preparations.

There's talk around the room of new investors coming in. The Walker Trust can't keep a hand in forever, though I sort of thought that's what Jack Walker wanted. There are high hopes that a proper local consortium would be formed to buy the club, but while there is foreign interest in football the trustees will talk to willing buyers. It can be an exciting future, there is something special and refreshing about the club again.

Thick as thieves us, we'll stick together for all time

We went to see From The Jam last night in Preston and it was a superb experience. I initially thought it was going to be awful, as I said here, but was persuaded to give it a go.

The first obvious point to make is that the lead singer was Russell Hastings and not Paul Weller. I tell you what, he definitely knows his Jam tracks. I've never been one for these tribute bands, but this was a proper blasting out of all the old favourites.

The passion of the crowd - of which I was probably in the younger half - brought back so many happy adolescent memories. I was looking around for old faces from concerts I went to across the North of England, but we all look fatter and balder, though I'm sure I'd recognise Lancaster's very own David Watts - Gary "Swaz" Swarbrick.

The Jam were an unbelievable phenomena that appealed to young men like no other band has in my lifetime. Oasis came close. They also bridged a number of youth cults - like punk, mod and the early casuals. The sentiment in raw, knowing tunes like When You're Young and Town Called Malice really cut it with what it was like growing up in a very uncertain world, but without the ready made rebellion of hippy dom or overtly left wing political protest. Thick as Thieves - an album track from Setting Sons really got me thinking about the power of nostalgia for our generation and the awesome treasure chest of memories we have and the solid bond that our gang had from the love of this amazing band that touched our lives.

So, although Weller wasn't there, the whole night was worth it for the smile on Bruce Foxton's face. His bassline makes Eton Rifles, one of the best songs on the night. They even played my personal Jam favourite - To Be Someone Must Be a Wonderful Thing. It really must have been.

European tour starts in July

With Bolton qualifying for the UEFA Cup, it seems our 3-3 draw with Reading now means we are the highest placed applicant for the Intertoto Cup (current holders Newcastle United). Our season will start in the 21/22 of July, with the second leg a week after.

We will be visiting a former communist stronghold now heavily subsidised by EU money.

That is: Llanelli from South Wales V Lithuanian side Vetra Vilnius in June. The winners of that will then play a team from Poland (mid-table to top is wide open). We won't know where we'll be until the 14th of July. But either way it's a trip we're quite up for going on.

This was gleaned from the BBC Wales football site and from the UEFA website, Intertoto section.

Disappointed that West Ham survived. The Tevez thing stinks. Then there's Lucas Neill.

Go Go Go Joseph

We all piled in the bus and headed off to Blackpool yesterday to see Joseph and his Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat at the Grand Theatre. On the surface we were doing it as a treat for our Joseph's 8th birthday, but the truth is we would have gone anyway.

It was a superb performance which had the kids engrossed. Like a lot of places in Blackpool there's a faded glory about the Grand Theatre, but the staff had a real dignity about them and cared about the experience we had there. Their website is here.

The touring performance - linked here - is well worth catching and I'm sure the cast we saw would be more than capable of holding their own on a West End stage; thus completely ruling out the need for the current snotfest on BBC 1 which we refer to as Any Queen Will Do. I watched it at Center Parcs by mistake and decided the main purpose of it was to provide sexual bait for that bloke out of Torchwood or Denise van Outen. On a casual revisit two weeks ago not much has changed.

But poor old Blackpool. We couldn't get away quick enough and no matter how hungry we all were at 7pm we wouldn't have contemplated having tea in a cafe or restaurant in the town centre due to the number of yobs roaming the streets. The shopping centre is being rebuilt, which is a good start, but there is so much to be done. The prom, the tower and the theatre we went to all have a magic about them that makes the rest of the seediness all the more tragic.

PS And the reason I'm sat here on Sunday afternoon typing away with Radio 5 on in the background and getting text alerts from Ewood Park is because this is a brief rest period. Joe had his first holy communion this morning, he's at the pictures this afternoon watching Spiderman 3 with his mates while me and Rachel are off to see The Jam (no Paul Weller, mind) in Preston tonight. Review tomorrow if I get a chance.

Ten thoughts on top Marple Traders

Rachel reminded me that the Marple Leaf hasn't been about Marple much lately. Ten thoughts therefore on my favourite ten shops and traders in Marple.

M & Co - change their stock regularly, cheap and good quality kids and casual clothes.

Grenaby Farm - this must be where steak pies go when they die. The best by a mile.

Deli Select - a treasure trove of cheese, snacks and treats.

Toast - cosy and friendly place for a cake and a coffee.

The Co-op - when you just need something when the cupboard is bare.

Harrods - for his impudence and knowledge of car parts

Dolce Vita - Wolfie warned me this was rubbish. I take his word for it, but the refurb and the new menu have created a buzzy happy place. No need for a Piccolino here.

Marple Wine bar - Murillos tapas bar is great for a table full of tapas and a bottle of rose wine on a hot day. Choose carefully, mind.

White's Butchers - Some great cuts and always with a smile

Controversially, Greenhalgh's - I don't usually like bakery chains, but they're lovely people and the sausage rolls are very good.

Kids and football

With having so many of us we're never far away from a birthday in this household. Yesterday Joe was 8. He wanted the Blackburn Rovers away kit more than anything else. I'm so amazed at his resilience and loyalty at sticking with Rovers. Most of his mates at school support Man Yoo with some boys sticking with City and Everton. Getting to go to matches helps and so does a relatively good season. Meeting a few of the players like Savage, Oojer and Bentley also made it harder to waver. Though I suspect Bellamy might have put him off for life. Obviously I'd love them whoever they supported - I'm married to a Burnley fan, afterall - but just how proud I am was summed up by a tale I heard this week.

Mark Webb and Steve Wilson, two of our guys in the Leeds office, and long-suffering Newcastle United supporters, met a certain high profile Newcastle player who used to play for Rovers. Steve has had a bit of bother with one of his brood deciding to support Man Yoo. Our star - let's call him "Alan" (his real name) sympathised. One of his boys likes to wear an Arsenal shirt. Just goes to show.

I started going to Rovers in 1977 because I could. But one of the many complexities of the football industry at the moment is that I think loyalty only goes so far these days if commitment stretches to watching your team on Sky and wearing a replica shirt. I'm so pleased that my nephew Ben has really got into watching Blackpool with his step Dad, and my brother-in-law, Dave Tinkler. It's been an exciting season for them and it might just stick with him.

As for kits we only have a strict policy in our house. You can have any kit you like, as long as it's Rovers, Burnley, Spurs or foreign (see above).

Also on the football front, Max and Louis are making their debut this morning for what will be the Marple Athletic Under 7's next season.

Let the people speak

We've been working with the BBC on a brilliant new TV feature to promote the People's Property Award. We wanted to add something to our own Insider Property Awards that engaged the public.

What we came up with is a series of programmes featuring modern architecture around the North West and inviting viewers of BBC North West Tonight to vote on their favourite modern building in the region.

You can vote for your favourite and view any of the programmes here.

Where's the "service" in NHS?

I had the misfortune to waste this morning in Stepping Hill Hospital with Joe and his small fracture on his left arm. We had a good laugh last Saturday when he was looked at, x-rayed, put in a cast and sent away in quick order. Everyone was lovely. But this morning we returned for a check up and the morning was dreadful. We arrived really early for his 10.30 appointment, but they were running late. I asked how late and they said they didn't have to tell me until they were running half an hour late. So tell me anyway. No. Computer says no. By half past they could say it was now half an hour late.

By 11.00 they announced they were running an hour late. Which was too late for us, we both had things to do. The attitude of the staff was dreadful. Their body language suggested that they were the victims in all of this, not the people with broken bones. There was no apology, just a grimace and a weak attempt to blame the doctors. Joe didn't get seen, we'll have to try again next week and book out an entire day just in case.

Just not good enough.

So farewell then, Tony Blair

Those in the Labour Party baying for Tony Blair to quit over the last year will have seen what a statesman he was today with an honest account of a decade as prime minister, and a stark message about Iraq.

He leaves office with his head held high - not following a shock resignation or a palace coup. But I think he leaves with a heavy heart because he knows he wasn't able to really tackle those parts of the welfare state that needed even harder reform than just chucking money at the staff.

If he has a particular failing it is that he was sometimes too tolerant of weak and incompetant government departments. DEFRA and the DTI are a joke. The Home Office and the Civil Justice departments have swung from crisis to crisis. Don't get me started on the NHS. He has also allowed Gordon Brown too much power to increase the tax burden.

We have had a real leader for the last 10 years that has made the country stronger and more confident. It is also more tolerant. I think the country would have been even more successful had he really been able to govern as he wanted to, not within the limits of an ideologically shackled party and a nanny state machinery.

We'll all miss him when he's gone.

Look out for red five

I've never had the slightest interest in motor racing. The whole circus around Formula One has always passed me by. I don't think I even know anyone who has been to Silverstone for a F1 race, let alone where me and Matt found ourselves yesterday, watching a FIA GT race day at Silverstone.

It was very very noisy and very very exciting. Matt really enjoyed himself. Truth is, I did too. As we were hanging out with the Porsche racing team we were in a great box at the finish line and saw plenty of action. Jonny Lang, an up and coming young blade on the racing scene, took us around the car in the paddock and explained how it all works. Great experience. As you can see, Matt got to sit in the seat of Jonny's car.




We were lucky, great location, great bunch of people to be with from Aston Ventures in Manchester, but I still don't see the appeal of sitting on a grandstand at a far flung corner of the circuit. Like golf, it's one of those sporting events that TV actually enhances the experience.


Still, I think I better get used to it, I think Matt's hooked.

Look into my eyes, look into my eyes

We went to see Derren Brown on Thursday at the Lowry Centre in Salford Quays. I was mesmerised. I didn't really know what to expect having never watched his show on TV but he was a great showman.

The mind reading sessions were the highlight. Working out what people were thinking. Some of it was spooky - I hope Sean with the three knee operations doesn't have to change his locks - but people were shaking. How he does it, I don't know. There has to be an element of luck and sleight of hand, but it's great entertainment.

Watched his TV show last night as well. Amazing.

Kevin Roberts is blogging

I've added a link to the blog of Kevin Roberts, here. He went to the same school as me (many years earlier, I hasten to add) and has done incredibly well for himself as the chief executive of Saatchi & Saatchi Worldwide. He is also the best speaker I've ever booked for an event. Link to some thoughts on that is here.

He is an incredible bundle of ideas and energy. He's not short on confidence. But I find his enthusiasm infectious and his hybrid Lancaster/New York/New Zealand accent fascinating.

He also likes Monocle magazine. But while I enjoy reading about business trips to Seoul and Santiago, he lives it. Link to Monocle is here.

Ten thoughts on great speeches

The Guardian is currently running a series of great speeches of the 20th century. They haven't finished yet, but I've thought of ten that I think HAVE to be on any list, regardless of the century. I can't read the words of Churchill without a lump in my throat. My Grandfathers both gave their lives to the fight against Hitler. One in the RAF, who died in 1943, and the other as a Commando in Norway, Burma and North Africa who lived for another 40 years with the memories, the horrors but also the dignity of service as a Commando.

- the Sermon on the mount, as set out in Matthew 5 "Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake. Rejoice, and be exceeding glad: for great is your reward in heaven: for so persecuted they the prophets which were before you."

- Winston Churchill, May 1940 - “blood toil sweat and tears.”

- Winston Churchill, June 1940 - “We shall go on to the end, we shall fight in France, we shall fight on the seas and oceans, we shall fight with growing confidence and growing strength in the air, we shall defend our Island, whatever the cost may be, we shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender."

- Winston Churchill, June 1940 - Later that month he once again reminded the country of the magnitude of the threat: “But if we fail, then the whole world, including the United States, including all that we have known and cared for, will sink into the abyss of a new Dark Age made more sinister, and perhaps more protracted, by the lights of perverted science. Let us therefore brace ourselves to our duties, and so bear ourselves that, if the British Empire and its Commonwealth last for a thousand years, men will still say, "This was their finest hour."

- Winston Churchill, August 1940 - In August following the defeat of the German Luftwaffe in the Battle of Britain his tribute to the Royal Air Force was: “Never in the field of human conflict has so much been owed by so many to so few.”

- John F Kennedy – January 1961 - "In the long history of the world, only a few generations have been granted the role of defending freedom in its hour of maximum danger. I do not shrink from this responsibility -- I welcome it. I do not believe that any of us would exchange places with any other people or any other generation. The energy, the faith, the devotion which we bring to this endeavor will light our country and all who serve it -- and the glow from that fire can truly light the world. And so, my fellow Americans: ask not what your country can do for you -- ask what you can do for your country."

- Martin Luther King, 1964 - "I say to you today, my friends, that in spite of the difficulties and frustrations of the moment, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal."

- Nelson Mandela, 1964 - Facing charges of sabotage, high treason and conspiracy to overthrow the government he spoke powerfully (and at great length) from the dock. This is how it ends. "During my lifetime I have dedicated myself to this struggle of the African people. I have fought against white domination, and I have fought against black domination. I have cherished the ideal of a democratic and free society in which all persons live together in harmony and with equal opportunities. It is an ideal which I hope to live for and to achieve. But if needs be, it is an ideal for which I am prepared to die."

Ronald Reagan – tear down this wall, Berlin 1987. President Ronald Raegan has been widely derided as an actor at the helm of an aggressive conservative administration and a cold war warrior intent to imperil the world with nuclear Armageddon. I've had the privilege of seeing him speak at a convention in Las Vegas in 1991 and he was a great orator. I think history will he kind to Reagan. His nerve never faltered and his strong messages to the reforming Soviet president Mikhail Gorbachev hastened the demise of communism. He said in Berlin in 1987: “If you seek peace, if you seek prosperity for the Soviet Union and Eastern Europe, if you seek liberalization: Come here to this gate! Mr. Gorbachev, open this gate! Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall.”
The speech ended: “As I looked out a moment ago from the Reichstag, that embodiment of German unity, I noticed words crudely spray-painted upon the wall, perhaps by a young Berliner: 'This wall will fall. Beliefs become reality.' Yes, across Europe, this wall will fall. For it cannot withstand faith; it cannot withstand truth. The wall cannot withstand freedom. "

Col Tim Collins, Iraq, 2003 - "We go to liberate not to conquer. We will not fly our flags in their country. We are entering Iraq to free a people and the only flag which will be flown in that ancient land is their own. Show respect for them. There are some who are alive at this moment who will not be alive shortly. Those who do not wish to go on that journey, we will not send. As for the others I expect you to rock their world. Wipe them out if that is what they choose. But if you are ferocious in battle remember to be magnanimous in victory."
The fact our troops are still in Iraq and are hated by so many Iraqis is such a sad betrayal of an honourable and laudible ideal.

We'll support you evermore

There's a lot of talk around at the moment about who you should "support" in Europe when English clubs reach finals. I don't care. I'll be pleased if Liverpool win, just as I was pleased at their incredible fightback in 2005. I was impressed when Manchester United won in 1999 with the dramatic late goals, but I didn't leap off the sofa.

But equally, as those games unfolded I wasn't crestfallen that the game was being won by a foreign team. I won't be gutted if Liverpool lose in anything like the way it took me a week to get over Rovers losing to Chelsea in the FA Cup semi-final, or lost the ability to speak for three hours when Liverpool equalised in the last minute in a cup tie in 1990.

I feel the same about England now as well. I want them to win, I just don't care that much if they don't. This thought came to me in Nuremberg during the World Cup as I watched England's underperforming galacticos stumble around against Trinidad and Tobago. I couldn't find it in me to utter "c'mon Becksy", "nice one Ashley Cole", or to sing some ditty about Peter Crouch. I'm glad I went to the World Cup, but would probably have enjoyed a spectacle like Australia v Brazil more than the general feeling of being slightly embarrassed in the company of the "no surrender" and "10 German bombers" brigade.

I'll say this as well, I'm slightly relieved that Manchester United won't be playing Liverpool in Athens in the final. It would have been horrible.



Here's a sympathetic picture to capture the sombre mood of the day.

Book review in a lift - Opus Dei by John Allen

As a recently confirmed Catholic I wanted to have a delve into this most controversial part of the Church. As a well respected journalist covering Vatican matters John Allen's book is a well written account. It scotches a number of myths and confirms a few truths. Is the Da Vinci Code (which I haven't read) correct? No, it's wrong. Do they wear a cilice? Yes. Do they whip? Yes. Until they bleed? No. Is Opus Dei a sinister and powerful force? No. In Britain? Ruth Kelly is one of 500 members of a heavily indebted organisation, out of 5 million Catholics in the UK. Did Josemaria Escriva, the father of the Work, support Franco? Well, yes, but so did the Catholic Church, they were scared of communism. It's a fair and balanced account that ultimately paints a far less exciting picture of Opus Dei than the conspiracy theories about them. As a result the book tails off a bit.

Overall: 7/10.

Contagious

Irish joke of the year 2006

A teacher asks her class to use the word "contagious". Roland the teacher's pet, gets up and says, "Last year I got the measles and my mum said it was contagious.""Well done, Roland," says the teacher."
Can anyone else try?" Katie, a sweet little girl with pigtails, says,"My grandma says there's a bug going round, and it's contagious."
"Well done, Katie," says the teacher. "Anyone else?"
Little Irish Sean jumps up and says in a broad Dublin accent, "Our next door neighbour is painting his house with a 2 inch brush, and my dad says it will take the contagious."

Hat tip: Brian Curran (b-i-l)

Charge of the light brigade

Plotting a route into Manchester from Marple sometimes feels a bit like organising the charge of the light brigade. You have to weigh up the path of least resistance, taking into account all likely obstacles. This is made all the more harder depending on which children need to be dropped off at which nursery, school, carer etc. It also depends hugely on which day it is and whether either of us needs to be in Manchester city centre, on a train, at Manchester Airport, at Rachel's place of work, in Cardiff, London, Birmingham or Dublin.

We were warned that Marple has one road in and one road out. Which is factually untrue. There are two and they're both horrific from 7.45 onwards. Tuesday is the busiest day of the week by far, then it gets gradually easier.

I'm about to make this even harder for myself and give my car back to the leasing company in two weeks time, without another car arranged. I'm going to see how long I last before sorting out a short term hire until my new one is delivered sometime in the summer. Which means relying on the train to get to work. I don't reckon I can do it, but I'm going to try.

I have been getting the train this week and it's been a mixed bag. Trains from Marple are reliable but crowded. Trains from Rose Hill are empty but slow and unpredictable. You can hedge both these options and park at Romiley, but the station car park is now being used by contractors, reducing the free places to about ten. It then costs £1.50.

Ten years on

It is ten years since I last cared about the outcome of an election. Any election. May the 1st 1997 was a great night. There was a great sense of optimism that the exhausted Conservative government was being swept away by a fresh broom.

It is also just over 15 years ago since I was genuinely disappointed over the outcome of an election. I was gutted that Labour lost the 1992 general election. The next day a colleague - Vince Stevenson, an anarchist - said that in my lifetime Labour would win an election, Blackburn Rovers would get promoted and that none of this really mattered.

He's right, and the main difference now is that being a high profile journalist means it's no longer practical to support a political party in the way that I support a football team.

I vote in every election, I think it is my duty to do so. Even when the stakes aren't anywhere near as high as they are in some places in the world today. When I see the lines and lines of people waiting to vote in Iraq and South Africa then I am reminded of that important obligation.

I'll be voting Labour in the Marple South election for Stockport council. On the face of it the Liberal Democrats do a decent job of running the council. The local councillors, all Liberals, seem to be the only ones making any kind of effort to ask people what they think or keep the voters informed. And they don't seem to be suggesting that we're going to have to have fortnightly rubbish collections.

Ten thoughts on...celebrity Rovers fans

We don't have many celebrity fans at Blackburn Rovers. We're not that sort of club, to be honest. We can't claim a celebrity fan base that includes James Nesbit and Curly Watts. I've thought about this because I'm told that one of the contestants in the new series of BBC TV's The Apprentice is a Rovers fan. The link to him is here. But this is a stab at a list for a bit of Friday fun.

Jim Bowen, presenter of Bullseye.

Steve Pinder, actor, used to be Max Fanham in Brookside.

Neil Arthur, former singer from 80s band Blancmange.

We sometimes claim Carl Fogarty, though he's really a Man Yoo supporter, but he pops up at Ewood rather a lot.

Wayne Hemingway, fashion designer, who occasionally appears on Soccer AM.

Jack Straw.

Jack Straw's son, Will.

And then there's only one Simon Garner. Who's famous for being a Rovers player. But he's a fan now.

We're really struggling now. Arthur Wainwright, the fell walking book bloke was a fan, but he's dead. As is Jack Rosenthal, a writer, and husband of Maureen Lipman. She must still hold a torch in north London for the mighty blues.

So to make up the numbers there's that Apprentice bloke. Adam Hosker.

Hard work that. But then, rather that lot than Alastair Campbell.

Go for gold

We were partners in a business conference today called Elevation held at New Century Hall in Manchester. One of the speakers was Sir Matthew Pinsent, the 4 times Olympic gold medal winning rower. What a great motivator and a speaker. The sheer physical regime he went through in order to win was enough to make your eyes water. He recounted how at the Athens Olympics in 2004 the unfancied British team came from nowhere to pip the Canadians at the very last 4 inches. As he looked over at his rivals he met the gaze of one of the Canadian team who he now knows well. At that exact moment they both thought exactly the same thing: "bloody hell he looks knackered, we're going to win".

His tips for successful teams:

1. Set goals
2. Excellent communications
3. division of responsibility
4. trust in team mates
5. hunger for success

Tinseltown in the Tower

At the Manchester International Festival event on Tuesday I committed one of those social faux pas you can only dream of. As I politely thanked festival director Alex Poots for the event I casually mentioned I was particularly looking forward to the rare chance to see The Blue Nile at the Bridgewater Hall. Knowing an artsy Glasweigan like him probably had an inside connection I'd already thought to say A Walk Across the Rooftops is still their best album. "Not Hats, then," replied Alex. "Nah, didn't quite reach the heights," I said. Replied Alex: "I played on that."

For the record, Hats is superb. And I've always been a huge fan of Craig Armstrong's piano version Hats track Let's Go Out Tonight on his first collection The Space Between Us. But no, Blue Nile's finest hour is the soaring string arrangement of Tinseltown in the Rain as Paul Buchanan stretches his vocal range.

On top of the world

You could not meet a nicer bloke than Ian Wolfendale. He can see everyone else's point of view. He shows kindness beyond words, bravery beyond sanity and is the epitome of reason.

The only exception to this is the Hilton Tower in Manchester. You know, the massive one. Made of glass. He hated the building with a passion. Loathed it, detested this blot on the landscape. It was crass. Didn't fit in. Like a bloody big triffid hanging over Deansgate and creeping over the skyline in the unlikeliest places.

We were involved in a party for the Manchester International Festival last night in architect Ian Simpson's apartment at the very top of the tower. I asked Wolfie to come along into the head of the enemy mothership.

He's happy to say he's flipped his view. "It's something we've all embraced as a symbol of the modern city and something we're actually very proud of," he says. The hillwalkers of Wolfie's circle now use it as a point of reference from the top of Kinder Scout.

The view from the tower was spectacular, but I didn't feel twice as high up as the punters in Cloud 23, some 23 floors below. But you could peer into Coronation Street, see our office, the hills beyond and in one sweep you could see Old Trafford and the snaking line of rear lights heading to the match and the City of Manchester stadium to the east. It was amazing to be there. Ian's apartment, under construction, was also something to behold. It'll be great when it's finished. Manchester, that is.

Running man

My colleague Jim Pendrill, aka Running Man, ran the London marathon in under 3 hours. He came in at 2hrs 54min (and 32 seconds!) and was 551st in the race overall. If you tap his name into the marathon website you can also see his 10k split times.

Quite a few of us promised to double our pledge if Jim came in under 3 hours so his effort pounding along the scorching Embankment in 70 degree heat is going to cost us! A rough estimate is that Jim will have made £2,000.

This was such a joy for the family of Luke Carthy, the boy who Jim's wife Julie has been looking after and who sparked Jim's interest in a trial to seek a cure for the deadly and hereditary disease that little Luke is suffering from.

If you want to give to the charity, The Myelin Trust, you can find out more here.

Cool running, JP.

The Literal Democrat

David Thame, one of the finest business writers around, has set up his own website. It's full of the wicked wit we have come to love so much. His Real Deals column in Insider is always a real treat. Sadly we don't have it on our website.

He offers marketing people some tips on dealing with him. And a few ground rules.

A flavour of it is here:

Congratulations. Oh please, please spare me quotes like this: Norman Halfwit, director at Idiot Developments, said: “I’m delighted to welcome Sh!t Marketing as our fourth tenant.” Suzy Blonde, director at Sh!t, said: “We’re so happy to bring our expanding business to an Idiot Developments scheme.” Not only is Sh!t a silly brand name I won’t use - but the quotes add nothing. The day the developer says: “This is a tawdry little scheme and we’re very surprised to see some one daft enough to pay our exorbitant rent” and the tenant says “Our overdraft is staggering and I have these terrible headaches all the time, so we thought what the hell,” is the day I start to use quotes like these….. If it’s just a little story then a little unpretentious (brief) press release will do nicely, thanks. Don’t fabricate daft self-congratulatory quotes.

A link to David's site is here.

Manchester goes to New York

I forgot to post the link reporting on the visit to New York by the Manchester International Festival people which was covered in the New Yorker magazine.

There's a link to it here.

And a flavour of it here:

To promote the gravitas of a city best known for one of its soccer squads, for the Madchester pop-music scene of yore, and for its tendency to be drenched in slow, steady rain, Poots had imported a team of seasoned professionals. “Manchester is the first city of the modern age,” Nick Johnson, the chairman of a company called Marketing Manchester, said. “It’s where Marx met Engels; it’s where Rolls met Royce. The industrial revolution started in Manchester. Manchester was the first city to invent the computer. I’ll have to get back to you on who that was, exactly.” (Arguably, the first computer was built in Philadelphia, though the first electronic stored-program computer can definitively be said to be a Mancunian invention. Marx made Engels’s acquaintance in Paris; however, the two did frequently convene in the North of England.)

It's not a particularly flattering piece, but the writer spots the fact that Manchester does run a genuine risk of believing its own hype a lot of the time. The festival should be good. I'm particularly looking forward to seeing Blue Nile in concert and seeing Anthony Wilson back to his best in a mass debate on whether London is bad for Britain.

Happy birthday Matt

Matt is celebrating his 5th birthday this week. He absolutely loves racing cars so I'm taking him to Silverstone in a couple of weeks to meet the Porsche racing team. He's had loads of presents from Cars, his favourite film, including a model of Radiator Springs which was a bugger to assemble with a hangover, some Cars pyjamas from Grandma, this brilliant helmet from his Aunty Joanne and Uncle Dave and more goodies from Grandad Stewart and Nana Hazel. The rest of the team have been great about all this attention lavished on one boy. Wonderful kids, we're so proud and so lucky.

"Going out", it's the new "staying in"

I did four nights out last week and strangely feel alright. I must be fitter and happier than I feared. They weren't just swift drinks after work, but full blown formal dinners with drinks at 7, carriages at midnight and in three cases they were black tie as well.

1. CBI dinner in Manchester on Tuesday was OK, met some good people, listened to a dreary speaker, got a good story lined up, but it felt like work.

2. Our property awards in Cardiff on Thursday was a triumph. We pulled a great crowd together and there was a great energy in the room. Our editor down there, Wyn Jenkins, is a top bloke with a good following in the business community. We found Wyn because my deputy editor Lisa Miles used to work with him and rates him - which is praise indeed! I wanted to put an ad in Press Gazette that said - "Patriotic Welsh bloke needed, must have an accent like Neil Kinnock, be mad on rugby and have ruddy cheeks. Ability to spell would be an advantage. " I got better than that, he's all of this and more. It was brilliant to watch him work on Thursday.

3. The Marple Athletic JFC fundraiser at Mellor Golf Club was a ripping night. Looks like the money raised should really help the club. One thing though. Jason Isaacs might be able to coach kids football teams with distinction, he may be able to make the kids idolise him. Fair enough. And yes, he can probably play football a bit himself. Obviously he can also play the guitar in his absolutely superb band, A Few Good Men. And he sings lead vocals. And yes, he's a good looking bloke. I just don't need to hear it from every other woman in Marple. Seriously, great night out!

4. All of that didn't leave much in the tank for the Hurstwood Charity Night at the Midland Hotel in Manchester on Saturday. But we soldiered on. Our friends Stephen and Nicola Ashworth have dug deep to support Derian House, a childen's hospice in Lancashire. The money they raised on Saturday was astounding. We were delighted to play our part by offering a special Insider prize for auction.

It was clear to us as we watched from our taxi on Saturday that we socialise in something of a rarified atmosphere. What we witnessed on the streets of Manchester made us grateful we don't have daughters, but we were also horrified at the spectacle of the human zoo all around us. Then, I get to see this, an account on the Manchester Confidential website about the aftermath of a fight outside one of Manchester's so-called upmarket bars.

And so, on it goes. It's another hectic one this week, but we are definitely chilling out this weekend with a takeaway, a nice bottle of wine and a DVD. Staying in will be the new going out for us and that's how we like it.

Top night out

We had an absolutely belting night out last night, the third of the week. It was a fund raising dinner dance for Marple Athletic JFC with a superb band - A Few Good Men who played a cracking set. Seems like we also raised a few quid for the club, but some of us are paying a heavy price today; there will be a few sore heads on the touchline at Brinnington this morning. Ouch.

This blog had an advert in the programme. If you've visited for the first time having seen it, then a very warm welcome to you.

And if you have raffle prizes to donate, please get in touch.

Marple Athletic win the league - foreigner whines

Don't you love a whiney foreign prima donna.

"The teams from the north of England are terrible. When we play them I have counted their centre-backs booting up to 30 long balls upfield per game. The weather over here is killing me. We'll get one day of sunshine for every 30 days of rain, and it is driving me to despair. My girlfriend and my mother are frightened about not seeing the sun in England. Premiership football is very hard. I am Brazilian and I enjoy playing the ball, making clever touches and taking bicycle kicks. Arsene Wenger does not forbid me from doing them, but the game is so fast I don't even have time to think about them. The moment you stop to think, someone has taken the ball off you and knocked you to the ground. Over here they value a corner kick more than a fancy flick" - Julio 'The Bleat' Baptista of Arsenal.

What a tit.

I can say with some pride that Marple Athletic Junior Football Club Under 8s have won the A and B divisions by some distance. Why? Because they are fitter, stronger, better organised and happier than other teams. They play through rain, mud, sleet and sunshine. The northern way. Love it.

Land of my father

I'm in Cardiff today. I do like Wales; my Dad was born in Wrexham and although I'm a proud Lancastrian I do always feel a touch of pride for Wales.

It's a bugger of a journey down here though. Even when you get to train stations with no vowels in the name you're still more than an hour from Cardiff.

We're off to the Wales Property Awards tonight which is a great do for us.

Borredar!

There is power in a union?

Long before I became a capitalist and had to do people's appraisals I've been dismayed about the infantile ultra leftism of the National Union of Journalists. I resigned over their stance on Northern Ireland and now I notice they are now advocating a boycott of Israel. Please.

One journalist has pointed out already that such resolutions seem to go against some of the core ethics of journalism that we are here to protect, such as balance and objectivity. I don't think any representative body of journalists should be taking a side.

See here and here for more of the same.

It also seems to clash with point 3 of the NUJ's code of conduct:

A journalist shall strive to ensure that the information he/she disseminates is fair and accurate, avoid the expression of comment and conjecture as established fact and falsification by distortion, selection or misrepresentation.

And in the midst of this terribly complex and often dangerous conflict I don't believe that it's the Israelis that have kidnapped BBC journalist Alan Johnston.

Hat tip: Norm

The Magic of the Cup (spoiled)

Still disappointed about the football at the weekend, but will probably save a very small fortune from not now going to Wembley. There were no discounted tickets for our tribe for the semi. Hence we didn't go as a family. I was going to post some splenetic rant about the price of tickets for the semi-final, but this from an email called The Fiver says it all.

The FA, no doubt pleasantly surprised by the ease with which they've been able to persuade the public that delivering a new national stadium ridiculously late and even more ridiculously over-budget is fine so long as you keep stressing the fact that it has 2,618 toilets, has now decided to recover their entire £353m overspend from MU Rowdies and Chelsea fans in a single afternoon. Today it confirmed that the cheapest tickets for this year's final will be an eye-watering 40% higher than their equivalent last year, with seats going for £35, £60, £80 and £95 (with a limited and as yet unspecified number of £17.50 seats on offer to Under-16s).
"It was important to set ticket prices at a sensible and affordable level for the first FA Cup final at the Late Wembley," honked permanently bewildered FA big cheese Brian Barwick, suggesting fans can look forward to even greater price increases next year when the novelty has worn off. "We believe these are very competitive prices for what will be an historic match," he continued, pointing at the list of admission fees charged by the Rowdies, Chelsea and anything on London's West End with the names Andrew Lloyd Webber and Ben Elton attached. If fans had any sense or dignity they'd vote en masse with their feet and stay away, but there's little chance of that. To paraphrase a ginger Welshman who was famously never prime minister (no, not John Hartson): loyalty is a fine quality, but in excess it fills inaccessible football stadiums and FA coffers.

In happy contrast the Rovers season ticket packs include some very generous discounts. I hope they manage to attract people back.

Gutted

Gutted. There is no other word for it. We took Chelsea all the way and still lost. We deserved to win today. Bah. Still, the flag made it onto TV. And Rachel backed first and third yesterday.

Sport mad

Although this is the first year in four I've not been to the Grand National, it's a fantastic sporting weekend. Last night's fairy tale at Edgely Park saw Sale Sharks' Jason Robinson score a try with seconds remaining of his last ever game. Ever the gent he thanked Bath for a gripping game before taking the applause of the 10,000 crowd. What a night.

Good match report here.

I've been looking for the picture from today's Guardian which shows him skipping towards the line with the Insider Magazine hoarding in full view. I'll buy it from Action Images in due course and get it framed for the office.

Rachel always does well at the National and we've backed our usual crop of no hopers and outside favourites, picking Irish trained horses and ones that aren't owned by Trevor Hemmings.

Tomorrow it's the semi final at Old Trafford. it was too dear to take the family so it's a lads do this time. Ten of us are meeting for lunch in Manchester, then heading to the swamp and then probably returning to town with our tails between our legs. 30 years following Rovers has taught me to prepare for disappointment. If McCarthy and Tugay can turn it on we can do it.

Ten thoughts on...cooking

Although I really appreciate good food, it’s usually when someone else has cooked it. Having spent so long away from home over the past week and anticipating a lot more time away in the next two – rubber chicken at business dinners, hospitality at rugby and football (I know, a hard life) you can’t beat home cooking. When it’s our home that means me. Here are my ten favourite things to make. If you ever fancy coming over, let me know your ideas for wine to go with them. Olive magazine is a great inspiration for this kind of thing as it’s aimed at simpletons like me with no time for preparation.

Fish pie
A winter and a summer variant to this, but the trick is to flake the fish and pile in a fist full of prawns, parsley and peas, don’t overdo the pepper.

Thai Chicken curry
A nation that has learned to love curry of the Indian or Pakistani variety hasn’t ever mastered making it at home, if you ask me. Thai is easier, especially as the core paste (red or green) can be bought in a jar – cheating a bit, but the coconut milk, extra red hot chillis, the crunchy vegetables and the gently cooked chicken make it one to experiment with.

Spaghetti Bolognese
The first thing many blokes cook, because it’s so simple and straightforward. Onion, garlic, mince, tin of tomatoes and a sprinkling of herbs. That’s the basic bit, but using Oxo cubes and puree to beef up the beef gives it a thicker flavour. You can use this as the base for lasagne and chilli too. I like red peppers in there for flavour and density.

Sunday roast
Taking over the kitchen for an afternoon and sticking onions and lemons into chickens, sprinkling with herbs from the garden and getting the roast spuds just right. Best veggies in our house are frozen peas, corn on the cob and carrots in marmalade.

Chicken soup
The leftovers of the Sunday lunch can be used to make a great stock when you bung in an onion and some herbs. Warm it up again, bung in a load of noodles and some peas and corn and it’s a Chinese type one. Wack in a jar of crème freche and it’s the Jewish equivalent.

Cheese on toast
Spread the cheese on thick and improve it with Worcestershire sauce or HP. I know it’s not really a recipe but when you can’t beat it for taking the edge off munchies after a long walk.

Full English breakfast
This is actually really hard to do when you most want to do it – ie first thing on Sunday morning when you’re really sleepy. Cumberland sausages are the best, thick smoked bacon and chunky mushrooms. I like white bread dipped in whipped eggs but a guilty pleasure is fried slice soaking up the sausages and bacon fat. A spoonful each of baked beans tops the lot off.

Lancashire hot pot
Chunks of lamb (some on the bone), carrots, and the right blend of thyme and rosemary topped off with thinly cut proper potatoes make this a tricky one to get just right, but as it’s the North’s representative in a new series of the Great British Menu. Serve with red cabbage, but don’t make it, get it out of a jar.

Paella
You can overdo paella, but the sheer size of it is brilliant for a feast. Something for everyone, keep it cooking in a massive pan. The mussels are a risk as the rubbery buggers give kids the squits. But chorizo sausages, chunky prawns and chunks of chicken and pepper give it lots of variety.

Cake
An American of my acquaintance once bragged that her cheesecake was simply the best. How do you make it, I asked. “Well, you open the packet…”. Truth is I’ve never really cracked cakes yet. But there’s this ace recipe for the Victoria sandwich in Olive this month.

The tragedy of Mark Langford

They'll probably never find the loot that Mark Langford and his wife Debbie trousered from their stewardship of The Accident Group - slogan, "where there's blame, there's a claim". We reckon he put about £9m into an Employee Benefit Trust, then transferred that offshore. Talk of £50m is fanciful.

The obituary in the Daily Telegraph is here.

A typically nasty and graphic account in the Daily Mail is here.

Previous posts on the subject of The Accident Group are here.

Was it suicide? Was it stress? Was it justice? Whatever his state of mind when he died it can't have been a happy one. He was separated from his wife. He had become a pantomime villain. Pilloried and pursued across Europe as the man who not only ran a distasteful business, but ran it dishonestly too. Served with a petition from the Revenue and Customs at his daughter's birthday party, his tragic end serves as a sad and pitiful warning to those who's greed and ambition consume them utterly.

On the two occasions that I met him I was struck by his painful craving for respectability. The back story was that he'd threatened to sue us for saying he'd killed Bill Thornley, a war veteran, while driving his Ferrari. He had top libel lawyers Carter Ruck and Partners send us threatening letters. We didn't back down and the row went away. It was true, by the way. He had killed the bloke, but technically he had been cleared of causing death by dangerous driving. Semantics. Mr Thornley was dead.

A year and a day later, he then called me in for a chat. He had employed Clive Entwistle, a former Cook Report investigative journalist as his PR man. Clive claimed this was an extension of his work unmasking bad guys. Langford wanted to show that he was helping people, that he had offered a service to people who had nowhere else to turn after legal aid was withdrawn for personal injury claims. He was also branching out into personal finance and would be sponsoring Manchester City FC through his First Advice brand. The truth was he was still mainly selling after-the-event insurance to accident victims, and taking a cut of the loans to fund them and gambling on a percentage of cases being settled by the insurers.

But Langford also had made an enormous pledge to support the NSPCC. At a glittering ball at Knowsley Hall President Bill Clinton praised him for his efforts. As well as providing the glittering lifestyle for his family - the mansion near Congleton and the fleet of cars, he also craved admission into the respectable class of Cheshire business. Hence the NSPCC stuff. Hence he was talking to Insider.

The business was doing quite well, his accounts showed enormous profit growth, but there was a time bomb under it. Insurers were contesting more cases. To compensate for this more cases were taken on, profits were then booked on probable case wins, rather than cash coming in.

At the end of one meeting I went through his accounts and asked about all the offshore entities which owned his businesses and asked about the employee benefit trusts. He got quite twitchy at that point and stopped answering the questions.

When the next accounts were published it showed just how much he and his wife were paying each other in salary and dividends. We decided to clear a stack of pages and the cover in the June issue and go to town on TAG. Sue Craven did some research for us and red flags shot up; this was a business not paying its bills. Everyone went quiet at TAG as well. Calls weren't returned and the cosy co-operation had dried up. In late May 2003 it went bust. He fled to Marbella and was engaged in a tetchy and evasive battle with the administrators to get the money he had taken from a business that had falsely declared large profits. He was disqualified as a director, chased by the Inland Revenue and Customs and occasionally turned up in the press for the crime of living in Marbella. Always on hand to provide a quote is someone called Alec McFadden, from something called the TUC (not that one).

Infamously, when the business went bust 2500 staff were told in a text they weren't being paid. That communication stunt was in fact organised by the administrators PWC, yet it will be forever the epitaph for Mark Campion Langford.

How do you cope?

We've been away. Center Parcs, Legoland and London. And before you assume we went to that Center Parcs at Longleat, which is quite near to Legoland at Windsor, we didn't. We went to that one at Penrith. We had to get there via Burnley and Settle because of the M6 on Good Friday. Then we drove to our Travelodge (one room, mind) in Reading on Easter Monday after a full day of fun in the forest. We've carbon offset it all however by urinating in the outdoors a lot, apparently it's good for the plants.

If I had £60,000 for every time this week that someone has said to us: "Five! Boys! How do you cope?" I wouldn't have to worry about our enormous and overwhelming mortgage. The truth is, we don't always cope. We sat up until 1am talking about them and what a wonderful life we have with them last night. Conclusion? We're getting better at it, but it's bloody exhausting.

All five of the little darlings will scream and rage and tantrum at some point. But there is usually a limit to it and it's usually for a reason. It took us a while to work that one out, but the reason is either hunger or tiredness. They need to eat, or they need to rest. Thankfully, they very rarely all kick off at once and they tend not to fight with each other too much. Well, sometimes, but it's soon resolved.

The other cause of angst is they need to go to the toilet at the most inconvenient time. Like when we've just navigated through a crowded train with standing room only (where we stood from Reading to Paddington next to a toilet), through Paddington station, the tube station and it's two flights of stairs, up, then down again. On the platform two of them announce a minute before we're about to get on a tube to Westminster: "I'm really bursting for a wee." It's fine at Center Parcs, you just whip it out and have a wizz behind a tree. Don't you? Oh. We piled off at Gloucester Road where the nearest toilet is one of those pod things.

So, here are some lessons learned this week to make up for the lack of ten thoughts last week.

• Make them piss regularly. Stand over them and demand they try harder if it doesn't work first time. It usually does.
• They make their own fun. The more contrived the higher the expectation. The highlight of London for Matt was going on an underground train. Louis loved seeing Reading's stadium as we drove past it. The elder trio played football in St James' Park and Matt and Elliot made a maze in the daffodils. Never mind Buckingham Palace and all that.
• Give them adventures. A three bedroomed house at Center Parcs with the hated Jetix was much more stressful than all of us in one room at Travelodge.
• Musicals on CD are actually alright. They love Mary Poppins and Joseph.
• If there's a fight, let them resolve it between them. Unless skin is broken, or blood shed. Don't be an audience.
• Be prepared to queue at theme parks. Or just don't go. We lined up for an hour to mess about with a JCB for five poxy minutes. My Dad could have sorted an afternoon doing that with his mate Bobcat Pete.
• They don't remember the shit bits. They are grateful, they don't show it all the time, but they are absorbing the love and the experience.
• We don't remember how surly and ungrateful we were as kids. My Dad came up to Center Parcs for the day and just chuckled at our gasps of exasperation. Been there, done that, son.
• At a restaurant, organise two tables. One for us two and a table for the five kids. They get on with it then and we can relax a bit.
• They make a lot of noise, but isn't it sad to see families that don't talk to each other. We blank out other people now. You have to. Sounds selfish, but we can't apologise for overbreeding and most of all they are very happy.

Discrimination report

I have a strange attitude to the Guardian newspaper. It's the best put together paper in this country. The wholesome humanitarian outlook is much more of my neck of the woods than anything else. The weekend paper is full of different ideas and always finds something new and fresh to say. News is balanced and well composed. It has more must-read columnists than any other paper: David Conn, Michael Walker, Marina Hyde, Matthew Fort, Jon Ronson, Catherine Bennett and David Hepworth. I even respect Polly Toynbee but I don't like her style or her politics.

BUT. As the voice of smug media London there is nothing worse than the Guardian in full flight. Take this. A feature on the top black and ethnic minority people in Britain's media. PR people, record producers, someone who runs a civil liberties group (media???), radio presenters, you get the drift.

What about a managing director of a media company with a turnover of over £50m that has changed the direction of his industry, moved its core brand into on-line and television? You'd think he'd be a shoo in.

Ah, but that's David Benjamin, the MD of the Manchester Evening News. He's the right colour, but he doesn't get in the Groucho Club very often. He just works in some far off outpost called the North of England.

Under April Skies

I didn't know which news stories to believe yesterday and certainly wasn't bowled over by the sheer hilarity of the April Fool's jokes. BMW did an advert about a new gadget - this has never been funny, but they persist with it nevertheless. The Observer had a piece about Tony Blair going into acting when he leaves Downing Street, here's the link.

We watched Louis Theroux's programme about a preacher in Kansas called Fred Phelps from Westboro Baptist Church of Topeka and his family have become The Most Hated Family in America. They picket funerals of servicemen and women to proclaim it is a good thing. They wave offensive banners about homosexuality. Their website is God Hates Fags, and no, I won't be providing a link to it. This just had to be an April Fool. Surely? But no, here's what Wikipedia has to say about Phelps, here. We've been discussing it at work and we haven't made up our mind. If it is a spoof, it's a good one.