Ten thoughts on Oasis splitting up

* The first two Oasis albums were blisteringly good. They captured a time and had an incredible energy, the concerts in this country were the closest experience I'd had to what The Jam created from 1978-1982.

* For me, one of their best songs is on their rotten third album, All Around The World on Be Here Now.

* They never moved on. You could play each subsequent album to a man from planet Zarg and they'd never place them in evolutionary order. Oasis were discussed this week in the context of the new Arctic Monkeys album. This is different said a critic, better this than just trotting out the same old stuff, like Oasis.

* I saw Oasis at their blistering best in 1996 in San Francisco. Back then I thought Noel would ditch his simian brother and do bigger and better things with his pals like Paul Weller and Ocean Colour Scene. What took you so long? That said Echo Round the Sun on Weller's 22 Dreams is the worst track - and Noel's on it.

* That whole row with Blur was idiotic, probably rooted in a desire to endlessly punch Alex James in the face, which is understandable. I supported them, bizarrely, in the same way I instinctively supported Blackburn Rovers, Labour and England for Euro 96. But you have to say Blur have played the better hand over the years.

* I think they've turned their backs on Manchester, which is a shame. Mick Hucknall's millions are invested in the city. Where are the Gallagher's?

* You could imagine sitting down and having a drink with Noel and rather enjoying it. Not so with Liam.

* It's bad form to walk out with gigs planned. Noel says he can't work with Liam any longer, well, he's always been a knob so why let all those people down now?

* Very pleased for my graphic designer Darren Gillibrand. He was there at V Festival, the last ever UK show.

* I can't imagine any of them recording anything of any critical significance ever again.

Some more best jokes ever

It's a pretty bold statement to say a joke is the best ever. And so I'm slightly suspicious when TV channel Dave has awarded the best joke at Edinburgh this year.

It's this from Dan Antopolski : "Hedgehogs. Why can't they just share the hedge?"

The last best joke I'd heard in ages, from Jason Manford (on Twitter), is this:

"How does every racist joke start? With a look over the shoulder."

Thanks to Ted Robbins, here's the best comedians' joke ever:

Two comedians meet up at Edinburgh. "How have you been?" asks one.

"Great," replies the other, "haven't you heard? I was doing some work in New York, got on the Letterman show as warm up, got on a Broadway Show."

"No," says the other, "I never heard about that."

"Yes, then my agent got me in the new Ben Stiller film. It was a raging success. I won an Oscar, now I'm doing a new film with Simon Pegg."

"Oh," says the other, "I never heard that."

"And to warm up some new material I did a couple of pub gigs at the Frog and Bucket in Manchester, but I died on my arse if I'm honest."

"Ah," says the other, "I heard about that."

The Junior Officers' Reading Club - by Patrick Hennessey - a review

I first heard extracts from The Junior Officer's Reading Club by Patrick Hennessey on Radio 4's Midweek and it was compelling and urgent. His exchanges with David Hepworth on The Word Podcast was one of the best radio interviews I'd heard in ages. It was all a revealing enough tale of a young man's rites of passage through Sandhurst, and at first I enjoyed it. By the time he got to Afghanistan, it dragged on a bit. It seems harsh to reduce (edit) this young man's tale, as it takes something away from the sacrifice of his fallen comrades, but he seems to have aspirations to write more and he needs to learn. Anyway, here's a review here that says pretty much what I think.
7/10.

Double perils at Rose Hill Marple

The commute home on the 18:06 from Manchester Piccadilly to Rose Hill Marple is a very pleasant experience at the moment; today there was plenty of room to sit and gaze out of the window while listening to my chosen medley of The Chords, Secret Affair and The Purple Hearts.

By the time the train screeches up the sharp rise from Marple junction and along the cutting towards Rose Hill, I noticed the embankment full of pretty pink and white flowers atop a towering bushy plant, but with blood red triffid like stems. Aaaaggghh. The dreaded Japanese Knotweed. This invasive and evil weed was imported in the 1880s as an ornamental plant and gets everywhere, it can cause havoc with gardens and is almost impossible to get rid of. Railtrack are part of an alliance to tackle this nuisance, here, and we wish them every success.

Walking home from Rose Hill station, I hang a sharp left along the Middlewood Way, the path of the old railway line, and emerging on Wood Lane by the entrance to the rugby club. That route should be lovely, but it is littered with dog shit. And horse shit. Dog owners carry bags with them and seem to have embraced the law that says they should clean it up. Some clearly do not.

It's one of my unreasonable prejudices that horse owners are self righteous middle class prats who feel morally superior to anyone who doesn't make way for their fetishistic animal indulgence. This is reinforced when I see their crap that litters the Middlewood Way. Horses just seem to do great piles of it wherever they can. I'm sorry, but that is just as disgusting. It might not stink the same as dog mess, but as far as I'm concerned there's no difference. Shit is shit.

On the wagon

After a great holiday, and the subsequent shock of having to get back into the commuting and working, I thought I'd lay off the grog. I'm not a heavy drinker. I don't get pissed very often, but like a lot of people of my generation we've taken to having wine about the house. I've started to discover favourites as well, usually strong Italian reds or a potent New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc.

My pal Erikka Askeland gave up alcohol for a commendable 40 days a few years back and wrote a very entertaining blog about it. Her abstinence was all the more remarkable for the fact she lives in Scotland.

I'm not going to do a confessional theme on this blog, but we are going to see if we can cut it right back. Last night we thought we might fall off the wagon as we had friends coming over. Apart from a welcome glass of Cava, the wine was left untouched. Mornings have been strange. I feel groggy but rested. I've also combined it with walking a lot more as I'm "between cars". So, just thought it's worth putting a marker down. No big deal.

This is how it feels to be Everton

An Evertonian of my acquaintance was in a philosophical mood on Tuesday as he reflected on Saturday's 6-1 home lashing by Arsenal.

It felt strangely comforting, he said. "You know when you're in a marriage and everyone else on the outside sees the relationship as perfect. It puts pressure on you, because you know all is falling apart. You eventually reach that point where you admit to yourselves that this is over. Saturday felt like that. David Moyes is not a good manager. The squad is weak. Now everyone can see that, and we can do something about it."

The stages of a midlife crisis

I bade farewell to my midlife crisis car today, my Audi A4 convertible. No more whizzing round with the top down, pleading with kids to get inside a bin liner before they can have a lift home from football. No more lying awake at night thinking someone's going to kick the front door in and demand the keys at knifepoint. It's been fun, but now it's time for a sensible runabout. More later, but this is a brief lament.

What we did on our holidays

When the sun shines in Cornwall, then all is well with a domestic holiday. And ours was special this year. But the perverse thing about a British break comes on those wet drizzly days when the estate cars with roof boxes tear up and down the A30 and the A39 in search of relief and fun.

Blissfully we had few such washouts this year. When we did we found the Lost Gardens of Heligan, a fairground museum called Dingles, Launceston Castle, Tintagel and Land's End. The first was amazing. Really. A great day out, and it's got a brilliant farm shop. More on the second later. In the latter two, there were shops full of tat and grass slopes. Our kids love a grass slope. There were also grass slopes at Launceston and Dingles.

Land's End is an absolute toilet. In fact, it's worse than that, because one of the grimmest things about it were the public latrines. We had our picture taken at that sign for £9 - but it hasn't arrived yet - showing how far Marple was. We went to the Doctor Who exhibition which cost the thick end of £20. The whole experience was grubby. The punters, a large number of whom were smokers with kids in Bristol City shirts, all looked glum. Here are some more reviews, here.

Dingles had a collection of old fashioned fairground attractions in a barn and to be honest I feared a repeat of rip-off tat. I couldn't have been more wrong. A lovely place, run by enthusiastic volunteers and space to run around. It gave us a nostalgia kick and the kids the freedom to enjoy the dodgems and a wild merry-go-round without being terrorised by teenagers.

It sounds like this is drifting into a bit of a moan, which this wasn't meant to be, we had a bloody brilliant holiday. We've already booked to go back next year to Fentrigan Manor Farm, which was just perfect for us. We were talking to the owner Richard Grigg and he's got loads of ideas to keep improving the farm and make it better.

The common twine that links all these positive experiences, and excludes the negatives, was the attitude and intent of the people behind them. A bit of pride, a bit of passion. And hopefully a bit of success from other people's fun.

Football predictions 2009/2010

It's become a tradition on this blog to predict the Premier League places and some other issues around the other leagues. Last season was a total wipeout. Here's what I reckon this time.

1 Chelsea
2 Liverpool
3 Manchester United
4 Manchester City
5 Tottenham
6 Arsenal
7 Aston Villa
8 Everton
9 Sunderland
10 Fulham
11 ROVERS
12 Wigan
13 Stoke
14 Bolton
15 West Ham
16 Portsmouth
17 Burnley
18 Wolves
19 Hull
20 Birmingham

League Cup: Manchester United reserves
FA Cup: Liverpool
Champions League: Real Madrid
Scotland: Do you know what? I couldn't care less.

Nothing particularly controversial there. I think from Rovers downwards it's all going to be pretty grim stuff. Gary Megson will be the first manager to get sacked. I think we'll lose at Turf Moor but win at Ewood.

Elsewhere, West Brom to win Championship, Ipswich and Derby to come up with them. Newcastle nowhere. Blackpool to go down, PNE comfortable mid table.

Huddersfield and Charlton to go up. Dirty Leeds stay down. Stockport County to go down.

Notts County on the way up with Shrewsbury and Rotherham. Morecambe in the play offs. Sad farewell to Accy Stanley.

The Road by Cormac McCarthy

After dipping in and out of various autobiographies, long magazine articles and bits of newspaper, sitting down in one sitting to devour this book was a massive shock. A gripping apocalyptic tale, focused on just two characters - a father and a son - but covering an enormous range of profound questions: good and evil; unquestioning love; our environmental stewardship of earth; and the existence of God. A truly amazing and mesmerising book. 10/10

Gone fishing

It must be 33 years since I last went fishing. But the old magic (and the old ineptitude) was still there this afternoon as we messed around in the fields and lakes around Fentrigan Manor Farm. You should have seen the one that got away - a carp - it was THIS BIG. And we had such a lovely day as a family, away from other people and the demands from our children for ice cream. Very chilled out.

Slavery in Marple

After the rant, here, about Griff Rhys Jones comes another history programme of a comedian on a journey, this time it's "Who do you think you are?" which my observant FiL, Eamon Curran, tells me was about David Mitchell, the comedian.

"His ancestor Rev John Forbes Of Sleat, Isle of Skye was instumental in rescuing young girls from the Walmsley woolen mills in MARPLE and a Dr Hibbert certified the death of one girl who died of typhus. Check out www.ambaile.org.uk lots of information."

Will watch it later and comment further.

Pull!

Try anything once, within reason. Here's me having a go at clay pigeon shooting in Cornwall. What a lot of fun this is. I think next time I'll try doing it blindfold and see if there's any improvement.

I'm on a journey...

You've all heard the opening line of many, many BBC documentaries where a middle aged comedian is on a journey - and the rest is just a vaguely hacked together series of mildly interesting anecdotes masquerading as a penetrating and incisive narrative.

The latest is Griff Rhys Jones and "his journey" around rivers, imaginitively called River Journeys With Griff Rhys Jones. Last night's episode annoyed me. Not because he went to Marple and didn't acknowledge it, but because the whole point of this exercise was a fraud.

He went from west coast to east. Included in this were some warm and inviting vignettes of modern geography; the clean up of the Mersey, Manchester's underground rivers, then some stuff about canals. Visually this works very well in Marple, which they did by shooting the barges, the locks and the viaduct, but his narrative was to get on the Rochdale canal in Manchester city centre and then get off around Stalybridge and hike up a mountain, so he didn't mention it. But then that's the point of these programmes. No one is really listening. No one is really watching. No one will notice if you take liberties with reality.

They didn't even mention the name of the star in the making sat on the bridge at about 17m 36secs. We certainly didn't on first look!

Griff then dropped down to Chatsworth House - oh how the BBC love a toff and a stately home - warbled about there for a bit, then ambled over to the Trent for some stories about a road and fishing for carp in gravel pits. As for his "journey from east to west" he'd forgotten it.

Next month: Alan Partridge and the spoons of our Motorway service stations.

Once more unto the beach

Sorry for not smiling, because I was very happy indeed. There is no sensation more likely to make you feel like you're on holiday than sea water in your face. I do so like crashing around in the waves with a Boogie board.

Summerleaze beach in Bude also has a safe seawater pool, freezing mind, hence the wetsuits.

Wide Open Road

It took ten hours to get from Marple to where we are staying in Cornwall. All told that included diversions to even get to the M6, two meal stops (an hour each), two road side toilet stops, rain in the Midlands, heavy traffic on the top bit of the M5 near Bristol, rubber neckers on the M5 in Somerset and a couple of wrong turns.

As I was piloting the supplies that's a lot of time alone. I listened to all my podcasts, a morning of Radio 4, some music and a dreadful afternoon of nothing courtesy of Radio 5 Live.

Here are some random things I learned.

More soldiers who served in the Falklands have committed suicide than died there in battle.

Justin Webb is leaving the BBC in Washington to move to London, the sale of his house there was a very odd process.

It's raining at Egbaston, thanks to Radio 5 Live.

Mark Mardell is leaving the BBC in Brussels to replace him.

It's still raining at Egbaston, thanks to Radio 5 Live.

The origins of the mild insult "Berk" - thanks to Andrew Collins on the Word Podcast, in a debate about Dave Cameron's use of the T word on the radio.

Ooooh, it's raining at Egbaston, thanks to Radio 5 Live.

I really don't like the Monocle Podcasts at all.

Julie Cullen and Matt Everitt on the BBC Radio 6 Music Podcast are just fantastic. Especially from live events.

Of the mid-period Jam albums, I prefer All Mod Cons to Setting Sons.

How is it possible to say so little other than it's raining at Egbaston, no thanks at all to Radio 5 Live.

If you do a Genius selection (from my music) based on One Day Like This by Elbow it comes up with, as you'd expect, Arcade Fire, Bon Iver, Fleet Foxes, Glasvegas and... Promise by Girl's Aloud. Obviously based on songs of the year. And yes I do have that track.

Admire the distance

More than most I was pleased that Manchester has forged a link with Los Angeles. Richard Leese explains, here.

Back in 1999, when I'd had enough of London and had enough of my job, I had two serious options in front me - move back to the North West and get a job doing something completely different, or pursue a very serious opportunity to work in the new film office in Los Angeles as part of the British High Commission. Obviously, I took the former route, but was able to stay in journalism.

My first interview in London was on the day after Joe was born, I was asked if I wanted to carry on with the process (and I did have another interview), but the importance of family took precedence and I backed out.

I liked LA; it's fashionable to say it's all just freeways and false people, but I've been there a dozen times for work and for holidays - usually nesting in either West Hollywood or Santa Monica. There's always something new to do, somewhere unusual to explore. And there's something magical about watching the sun set from a dusty road up in the canyons, or at the Observatory at Griffith Park. It helped of course that I've got good friends there, Matt Diamond and Colleen O'Mara, who know the city.

A film that shows LA's layers so well is Heat, starring Robert de Niro and Al Pacino. There's a brilliantly atmospheric build up at one point, two thirds in, featuring the skyline, helicopters, freeways, that then prefaced the dramatic scene where they meet for a coffee (at Broadway Diner in Santa Monica, since you asked). The soundtrack to that build up was New Dawn Fades, a Joy Division track performed by Moby. Tony Wilson used to tell the story that he and Yvette were watching the film in a cinema on Sunset and sat up straight, exclaiming - "that's one of ours". The improved live version - featuring New Order with Moby - is on the 24 Hour Party People soundtrack. It always reminds me of that choice I made.

Rain rain go away

Way back when, and after two consecutive summer holidays in the same place in Italy, we have chosen to go to Cornwall this year. The weather forecast looks utterly wretched, but we are determined to have a good time.

We're loading up with wet suits, boards and wellies, as well as shorts and t-shirts. We're renting our own house out to a couple of army mates of mine who are just back from a tour in Afghanistan and like gardening and decorating for relaxation. I've done a map with all the things to do on it, including see a pre-season friendly at Truro City. If you have any more ideas, let me know.

Football's finest

So Burnley veterans play Blackburn Rovers veterans as part of a family oriented tournament at the MEN Arena. What do you know, a bunch of about 20 throwback idiots turn up to kick it off.

Details are here. The messageboard from the Lancashire Telegraph, which I can't even be bothered to link to, had Burnley's finest actually castigating Rovers fans for a "no show". I don't know whether to laugh or cry.

There's a lot of goodwill towards Burnley. You've got Alastair Campbell spinning like mad with his profile of Owen Coyle in the Observer, favourable coverage in the New York Times and lots more. But there is a dark underbelly to their support which threatens to ruin this Premier League adventure.

A few choice links at the wet end of July.

Here are a few choice links at the wet end of July, with some broad hints at things I should take to read and listen to on my hols in August. Any other suggestions gracefully received.

Real journalism's David Conn turns his attention to Liverpool and their American owners.

And some thoughtful posts on The Word site, sparked by the moral quandry of a Manchester City supporter. Been there, done that, bought the replica shirt in 1994.

They tried to make me go to Sangin, no, no, no. Great review of the book I'm enjoying reading - Junior Officer's Reading Club by Patrick Hennessey.

I must get round to reading Nudge - behaviour, human and otherwise and how to influence it. Also, a clever Manchester group to bob along to. And another group of thinkers here.

Italian dreams - Barga is an amazing place in the northern and hilly part of Tuscany. It's got very strong Scottish links - Paulo Nutini's Dad was born there, for instance. And the annual fish and chip festival is in full swing at the football ground in the town. From tonight. And it's 28 degrees and sunny.

New local paper for Stockport. Mmmmm?

The new deli in Marple, All Things Nice, is bloody brilliant. But the website isn't working yet.

Scroll down from here to see the Clarks Weaver - quite fancy a pair of these.

A whole new ball game

Having become moderately interested in Rugby Union after our business went into partnership with Sale Sharks, my interest has been sufficiently piqued to accept a corporate invite to go and see a different type of egg chasing today: Warrington Wolves v Salford City Reds at Rugby League.

I don't have any particularly stong prejudices about Rugby League. There is an old adage from Laurie Daly (link here) that says Rugby League is a simple game played by simple people, with something rude about who plays the 15-man version.

Then there's this, here. Which explains a few differences and is pro RL.

This argues that the subtleties of union make it more intruiging, more like chess.

I also noted some comments from a Rugby League fan - Damian Connelly - to explain his personal frustration with the 15 man code:

Andy Farrell briefly considered a return to Rugby League after a disastrous World Cup - decided against it though as it would mean a return to having to be active for 100% of the game, instead of just 20% and anyway "you don't get chance for a cup of tea on the pitch when you play league".

Ruck/Maul specialists spend winter officiating at Harrogate Turkish baths so they can continue rolling around on the floor bum@ing and groping....

Line out teams may as well join the Billy Smart circus trapeze act - again another opportunity for a bit of "manual handling".

I understand that the IRB are considering a few rule changes to make the game more exciting - dropping down to 13 a side, with unopposed scrums and limited tackles. Or alternatively to exploit the propensity to pap pants and kick the ball instead of taking a tackle like men, drop down to 11 a side, make the ball round, take down the posts and replace with a netted enclosure.

OK, so I'm getting into something way over my head here. What I can say is I've been to loads of Sale Sharks games and still don't understand the game. I enjoy it, but don't understand it. I can work out the pattern of a football match within 30 seconds. Rugby? no chance.

So yes, of course I've seen Rugby League on TV, I can see that it's a faster and more flowing game. But it's also very straightforward to understand.

The atmosphere at the game was also slightly more like a football match today; there were away supporters, abusive songs, fans goading each other and police. But I was told that was because Salford are a bit more "soccer" than most well behaved RL followings.

If there's a frustration I've had of watching Rugby Union it's the ability of a poorer team to play tight rugby and stop a game by sheer physical determination: Bath, Worcester and Newcastle all did that to Sale. I can't see 13 players doing that to the same extent with the open style of RL. On the evidence of today's game, Rugby League seems to be all about courage and speed. Warrington dominated, yet trailed at half time 12-20. Whatever the coach Tony Smith said at half time, changed the game totally. They were braver, took more risks, chalked up points and Salford lost all heart. The result was a capitulation to 62-20.

But read a better report of the game than anything from me, here, here or here.

We'll have a bit more of this, I reckon.

It's Grand Up North

We've had a fun day today. My nephew Calum came over for a joint birthday party with our littlest lad Elliot, who will be 5 soon.

In pursuit of real football

Even though this blog is having a month, or two, off football, I did want to mention our expedition on Tuesday to see some real football. Me, Joe and Louis set off to Bower Fold, home of Stalybridge Celtic, to see the pre-season friendly against Buxton. Sadly, the game was at Buxton. Doh!

Thinking quickly, we headed a few miles up the road to Mossley, where the Lilywhites were meant to be playing Stockport County. Except they weren't, it was Flixton from the Vodkat League. Pre-season, eh?

There's a match report and video of the game here, which sums it all up from a Mossley fan's perspective: should have won about 8-0, but wasn't, it was 2-1. Fair play to Flixton, they had a go. The report seems a bit depressed, poor crowd, poor game, bad weather. I suppose watching non-league football over a long period becomes a real struggle of faith and will.

Indeed, there are tales of Mossley's financial plight here and here.

Honestly, the lads loved it. And I did. We loved being close to the pitch, hearing the banter, hearing the ref, seeing the balls getting kicked out of the ground (seven) and they appreciated the quality of the football. Seriously. Mossley's right midfielder had good feet, but couldn't score. Danny Dignan, the scorer, was lively. Flixton defended stoutly.

I've spoilt my children by taking them to see Premier League football and to allowing them to sample executive boxes and sponsors lounges. It's time they got some perspective on the whole family of football. We'll be doing more of this. Hyde, Stalybridge, Curzon Ashton, Woodley and Altrincham beckon. And Mossley again.

Politics can matter

So, this quest for some grown up debate goes on. On Wednesday I chaired a session for Greater Manchester Chamber on what devolved powers Manchester might get under the new city region arrangements.

Here's how it was reported in Insider Daily:

City region status will only benefit Manchester if backed up by the ability to set and keep business rates, a Greater Manchester Chamber event was yesterday told. Dermot Finch, director of the Centre for Cities think tank, said: “It’s meaningless if they don’t have this power, because Manchester is currently too reliant on bodies like the Department for Transport. But a city region can work here for five reasons: strength through collaboration; more efficient public services; a better ability to assess local skills and transport needs; and because of its strong global brand.”

That evening I went to a debate at Manchester Town Hall sponsored by the Independent, entitled Is Our Democracy Under Threat? I haven't located a report anywhere, but it was very well attended and some excellent points were raised by all the panel: Howard Jacobson, Johann Hari, Neil Hamilton and Graham Stringer. Politics, concluded Stringer, matters to people when opinion is polarised. The TIF debate fired people up, he said.

City region powers aren't as exciting as all that - the audience at the Chamber do was about 40 people.

There were about 200 at the Indie debate. And bizarrely, they barely touched on the erosion of civil liberties.

PS - I have actually now found a report, here, but check out the dreadful level of dogma and polemic masquerading as debate. I sensed an undercurrent of this at the debate itself, heckling from the crusties and stoppers.

Column inches

I had a very pleasant night out last week with Steve Connor at the Manchester International Festival pavilion. An evening talking about old friends, old enemies, the collapse of neo-liberalism and Jello Biafra can't fail really. We went to see The Durrutti Column, an instrumental Factory band, who produced a "paean" to our late friend Tony Wilson. And what a smashing, handsome, young man Oliver Wilson is turning into. It was lovely lovely music, with a mixture of tight strings, brass and subtle percussion.

But Paul Taylor's review - here - had it right.

For music so contemplative, it was a bizarre choice to stage this in the Pavilion Theatre, the audience forced to stand in a sweltering tent rather than appreciate every nuance from the cooler vantage point of a seat in, say, the Bridgewater Hall.

Are we just old farts, then? Or was this another Wilson act of situationism from beyond the grave? Make people suffer for the consumption of such art.

I think my next Vini Reilly experience will be listening to the new album sat down on a large sofa with a glass of wine and a book about Victorian industrialists.

Some more intellectual grist on the mill

I was invited to a breakfast event this morning with about 60 big hitters from around Manchester, where the guest speakers threatened to bring some intellectual vigour to Manchester's perpetual renewal, as discussed here.

The main point was that the city needs to recapture a 19th century “sense of self-fulfilling ambition” and continue to be a "city of ideas" with a "sense of independence". That was the conclusion of historian Tristram Hunt, a biographer of Freidrich Engels and author of Building Jerusalem a book Sir Richard Leese recommended (to much laughter) "if you have a spare few weeks".

They were debating the subject So What Has Manchester Done For Us? along with design guru Peter Saville at the Manchester International Festival Pavilion in Albert Square.

Hunt said history shows us the importance of arts, culture and ideas in attracting 25-34 year olds to a place - as Manchester did in the industrial revolution– “they are the wealth creators of tomorrow.” He also told stories of Manchester in the 19th century as a centre of innovation with "an extraordinary culture of public science".

Saville seemed nonplussed. He also said the audience was in "shock and awe" at Hunt's presentation. I rather took it as amusement, politeness and stimulation.

Now, the event was organised by the Commission for the New Economy, who invited a hand picked and deliberately on message kind of crowd. Saville also used the Guardian newspaper as a metaphor for what Manchester used to be and how it is unimagible that the leading liberal newspaper could be from Manchester in the present day and age.

Maybe it was early morning, but I felt Saville spoke with his usual impenetrable density. He is hard to follow, but there are ideas of searing simplicity pressing against the early morning wall of fog that a double shot of espresso didn't shift. But Tristram Hunt was lucid, lively and stimulating. They at least agreed that strong civic leadership sets Manchester apart. It needs to be - there are precious few private sector stakeholders with enough responsibility towards Manchester and a central government that is indifferent or hostile to Manchester’s ambitions.

But to return to the previous intellectual salvo - how much appetite is there for this kind of debate? And how much thinking and talking actually leads to new ideas that turn into wealth creation? I get brief glimpses of activity from the Commission, or Manchester Knowledge Capital, when the latest guru with an American accent gets wheeled out, but wonder if this amounts to a hill of beans? Jane Davies of Manchester Science Park asked that very question this morning, who needs another strategy?

Also, when I dropped the words M*dia C*ty into my question I got the distinct impression I was talking about some kind of elephant in the living room. Peter Saville doesn't believe the Manchester Guardian could exist today. But Radio 5 Live, a national news network, will be coming live from Manchester in two years time. And much more. It can work and it will.

It's silly wrong but vivid right

I have said many times that the key to happiness is spending quality time with the people you love. Last Saturday night we had a couple of families over with their kids for a few quiet drinks, followed by a great many noisy ones. I will continue to feel very sheepish when I next see our neighbours, who will have been reminded of how badly I sing.

There can be no greater way of celebrating friendship and life than singing together. And as I've been asked this week to come up with five songs for a Desert Island Discs project organised by Forever Manchester, then I want to dedicate the last one of the five to Michelle & Andy Hinselwood and Jane & Trevor Martin and all their wonderful children.

It's this, but then you'll have guessed that by now.

I haven't quite decided on the others yet.

Bookmarks for mid July

Me and my old pal Steve Connor are off to see The Durutti Column on Wednesday at the Manchester International Festival. It's a Paean to Wilson, and there's a link to their site here, and a lovely piece about drummer Bruce Mitchell here.

Don't get scammed. Read this.

Author of Kill Your Friends - John Niven, on Michael Jackson.

Frank McKenna on Michael Jackson, Michael Owen and Michael Shields. Sensible on all three counts.

Here's a sensible and pragmatic body of thought about how best to rebuild community politics and to oppose the BNP. And here are a series of profiles on some of the female supporters of the master race party (Babes of the BNP).

Real Journalism's David Conn covers the latest twists at Leeds United. Superb, but check out the messages, so many have been removed.

To become an extremist hang around with people who agree with you. From The Spectator, interview with bloke who wrote Nudge.

Great piece on Manchester International Festival from Prospect magazine.

Christopher Hitchens on Gordon Brown, from Vanity Fair.

Elbow and the Halle - magic

If you want to read a proper review of Elbow playing the Bridgewater Hall with the Halle last night, then this review from the Independent fits the bill.

And me? It was a special day. A special occasion. Most live music loses something in the delivery of the polished, produced, recorded performance, but then makes up for it in the thrill of being there, and the atmosphere of a collective experience.

Last night the Halle improved, enhanced, illuminated and made Elbow sound even more beautiful.

And there was also the added thrill of being there and enjoying an atmosphere in this special city. As one person said - no other city could ever have brought together something as comparably wonderful.

Walking towards Castlefield afterwards the air was alive with love.

Thanks to the BBC, there's this too. A glimpse, but you really had to be there. We were.

Rootless fools

I came across a blog from April, here, asking Whatever Happened to the Northern Intellectual?
It had been sparked by a round of debates, led bythinker and writer Charles Leadbeater, who has written an “interactive essay” entitled "The Art of With", which allows paragraph by paragraph comments.

Quotes from others are in italics, by the way. Stick with me.

The summary from the blog’s author Bournemouth Runner (it’s a song by The Fall, but then you knew that already) is as follows:

Leadbeater’s seminar at Manchester's Cornerhouse raised the point that the avant garde has traditionally been "separate" - rejecting the consumerism of the 20th century, but being part of arts institutions that are themselves based upon the consumerist model. Is the web, with its ethos of "shared" and "collaborative" experience a different model? Perhaps.

After a ramble about something called Googleopolis and sampling, he then launches into a bit of a rant about a lack of intellectuals and how that may hamper the development of a knowledge economy. Here you go:

And, around this, and this is why "The art of with" debate is timely, there needs, to be frank there to be an intellectual and critical discussion. I wonder whatever happened to the Northern Intellectual? Our city and regional leaders wouldn't fit that description - and nor, come to think of it, would many of our other high profile figures. When its (sic) debating time in Manchester we roll out the interesting, the practical, and the well-known, whether its (sic) Guy Garvey, Ian Simpson, Wayne Hemingway or Dave Haslam. Nothing wrong with any of them of course; but there's a sense of either the streetfighter tamed, or the Grammar school boy acting down for the masses. It's why Tony Wilson had the streets of Manchester to himself, where 2nd-hand situationism, and a day job at Granada could make for an intellectual high water mark. On the day that MMU/Chorlton-based Carole Ann Duffy most likely gets the Laureate, our professor of contemporary poetry is praised for her humour, accessibility and popularity, not for her intellect. Main rival, Simon Armitage, is always careful to hide his intellect under a laddish cover of northern dry wit.

Ouch. There's more.

There's a challenge for "the art of with" and the Cornerhouse, and that's about Manchester itself. Charles Leadbeater is fine and dandy, but its (sic) when the city doesn't have to import its intellectual discussion, but leads on it, that the city's undoubted knowledge economy will come into its own.

It sparked a response from DJ Dave Haslam, who said...

What or who is a 'Northern Intellectual'??? What or who is 'an intellectual', come to that? If you provided some examples or some description of this mythical being, then I would be able to begin to discuss this with you. Your question implies that once there was a Northern Intellectual but now there isn't. Or even your question implies, maybe there was only ever just one; 'the' Northern Intellectual. Perhaps a man who you once met on a train who read the same books as you and therefore fitted your ideal. I wish you'd been at the Festival Pavilion last night [Saturday] to hear me interviewing Guy Garvey. It was a great event; we talked about death, the creative process, the idea of 'home', the work of Alan Bennett, definitions of masculinity, drinking, how Manchester creates 'scenes', queues in Somerfield and Australian theme bars. And loads of other stuff. God knows if we were 'intellectual' enough for you, but I think we contributed to the world of ideas in a very unique and intense and open way. The audience asked questions. The room was full of love. We had a bit more to drink. There were no 'gatekeepers'.

Bournemouth Runner said he was sorry and that he’d missed a good one, but asked:

We're certainly still in thrall to the "intellectual" - or ideas person - from elsewhere, whether its Charles Leadbetter (sic), Stowe Boyd or Martin Amis - whereas, wrongly, I think, anyone outside of London gets praised for everything other than their intellectual capabilities.

Yet apparently there is a “scene” developing – around something called the Social Media Café which happens every now and again, this week it was at the BBC on Oxford Road. This "scene" has the potential to be at the beginnings of the so-called knowledge economy, he says.

I think there's a real thirst in the city for this kind of debate - I hope that the expanded Cornerhouse as Manchester's "creative hub" will become this.

Anyway. Here’s my first thought: "The city intellectuals of the world are divorced from the folk-bodied blood of the land and are just rootless fools." Jack Dolouz (and not Sal Paradise). Look it up.

I do sometimes worry about a lack of intellectual ballast in the recent movement to renew the North of England. So I have some empathy with that core concern. But basically, you're just left feeling, so what?

On balance, my problem with the above debate and the central idea of an "intellectual" is it seems very confined to the creation of art and culture, with the vaguest of nods in the direction of urban design. And yet there are, all around Manchester, profoundly “intellectual” people with lots to say about bioethics, theology, economics, civic politics, sustainable development, football, quantum physics and education, to name but a few. Whether these amount to a body of ideas that derive from "a Manchester way" in all of these areas is dubious. And whether in so doing they contribute enormously to the rigourous scrutiny that any new idea requires, then I have to say they do.

Within this huge pool of intellect, there is a grounding in common sense and of people just getting on with it. Does that therefore reduce it's intellectual value? I don't think so.

What I do think is that many worthy efforts to make it more so are just becoming paralysed with the ache of trying too hard. How many times have I heard the complaint that all the policy "think tanks" are in London? And yet, whenever a London-based thinker pontificates on a new way of civic leadership all roads lead to Albert Square. No model of governance could create what Manchester's civic entrepreneurs and political leaders have forged through their own endeavours.

And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with “importing” from elsewhere. Nothing at all.

War PLC - book review in a lift

I enjoyed Steve Armstrong's book about private military contractors (PMCs). Government's organise their armed forces to win their last war, not the next one, observes Tim Spicer, a leading and very modern mercenary. And the Iraq war will be seen as the first privatised conflict; but not the last. Just as many aid missions are led by NGOs, so too they will require firepower and muscle for protection. This book is not an academic study, or a blockbuster, but a journalistic summary of a misunderstood and misinterpreted economic and military trend. He makes good use of interviews, cuttings and background to present the whole world of PMCs from the point of view of everyone involved. I used to work in the same office as Steve (Stretch as he was sometimes referred). I always liked him, though we weren't friends or anything. Very pleased to see he's doing well. Book could do with an index though. 6.5/10

BBC staff look North

There's a piece in Media Guardian on the take up of relocation amongst BBC managers ahead of the move to MediaCity at Salford Quays.

A link to it is here.

My response, posted on the site, is this, though I was mainly reacting to moronic posts from readers of the UK's leading liberal newspaper:

Oh dear. marky1982, Kelvin, lhur2006, whoever. You're not going to get a rise out of us.

And please, I urge all these Mancunian sophisticates to resist from coming on here and saying there's a nice deli in Didsbury, or that the Manchester International Festival has just seen Kraftwerk doing Orginal Modern things.

No, this project is actually about getting the BBC a little bit closer to the people who pay for it. Some of them might drink WKD in cheap bars, even.

Nation Shall Speak Peace Unto Nation - so well done to all those BBC folks who have chosen to pack the van and move North. A welcome awaits.

And to the BBC looking for people to get the job done, there are loads of creative people in the North with great ideas excited at the prospect of making programmes for the nation's broadcaster.

More coaching badges than Paul Ince

I mentioned I was doing an FA coaching course here. Well, I passed. Which felt absolutely bloody brilliant. The best thing I got out of today was the real strong bond between the 22 of us on the course. I was on last and there were no shortage of helpers for me setting out the pitch, helping as ball boys (and girls) and taking an active part in the exercise. I hope I was as helpful to the others in their hour of need.

A new physical affliction to add to the swollen Achilles - sunburn on the backs of my knees. Ouch.

After yesterday's Under 11s 11-a-side tournament at Hadfield, where Joe's knee gave out and he had to be carried off in tears in the semi-final, then witnessed his mates lose on penalties, I was feeling a bit down about the whole circus of kids football. I still despair at the behaviour of some adults - and I didn't exactly cover myself in glory by giving the ref some backchat about child protection when he refused to stop the game as Joe was unable to walk. By the way, I've checked, and he should have stopped the game (welfare of the child is paramount), but equally as a parent on the sidelines I shouldn't have opened my mouth.

But there is a minefield here and as zealous as I feel about what I've learned on my course, I question whether common sense and FA policy is swimming against the tide. What should the attitude to winning be? Win at all costs? Or play the right way? At what point is asking kids to make decisions going to work?

It's July - some bookmarks of stuff I've been liking

Blimey - I've been made Man of the Week in Liverpool. Here's me with Frank McKenna and his report on the event we did last week.

Danny Baker's stunningly well-written and brilliantly observed piece on Michael Jackson from The Times in 2005.

When I said last week that it is far from a foregone conclusion that the Tories will sweep to power next year, I had this in mind - Jackie Ashley puts it very well

A very amusing video with Hardeep Singh Kohli.

The Spectator's Debroah Ross has lunch with Jimmy McNulty from The Wire.

Hazel Blears to face wealthy independent opponent at next election.

Adidas Beckenbauer - superb black wheels

OB well on top - good interview with Manchester's top cop by ManCon

Happy to renew our Rovers season tickets

We rebooked our season tickets for the Rovers today. We've decided to get four. One adult and three kids. Hopefully that will work out OK.

The Blackburn End and the Riverside are totally sold out. The family stand is filling up and the special offers on "taking back" the Darwen End with the 15 game £150 offer has gone well.

There will be four games where the Darwen End will be given to the away fans, news of it is here. Two will be Liverpool and Man U, one will be Burnley, presumably on police advice. The other is to be decided. I anticipate that will be a controversial decision. But then I wouldn't want to sit in a lower tier underneath that lot. Equally, Burnley are looking at reducing away fans capacity in the Cricket Field stand.

Having a laugh with Theo Paphitis

The Many Hands Campaign has been designed to get smaller businesses involved in getting their staff to raise money for the Manchester New Children’s Hospital Appeal. I was asked to help out last night as the campaign drew to a close at a reception with Theo Paphitis.

He made a very good point: businesses that encourage their staff to get involved in things like this actually do better. It's great for spirit and has the effect of generating a more selfless attitude.

The campaign has generated £100,000 for The New Children’s Hospital Appeal. And many of the initiatives have been brilliant. A special IoD Award for Innovation in fund raising went to Sheldon Bean from Beanstalk Telecom and Nigel Woolfstein from Wood & Woolfstein Dental Surgery who raised nearly £18,000 with their 24 hour tennis tournament.

Richard Duerr from Manchester jam company Duerr's presented a painting made with their own products, jam, marmalade and the sky was done in tartare sauce. He revealed that the top bid was for £1,050 from Richard's father. Theo offered £5K. Nice one.

My job was to moderate the Q+A. He was a great guy to interview, full of funny stories and really sound advice. He's signed me a copy of his book, so I'll have to read it now. Yes, he's disappointed not to have bought Woolies, and no he wouldn't follow Alan Sugar into a government role. Sort of, I think he'd quite like to be asked.

Bruce Springsteen at Glastonbury

...looked and sounded amazing, especially from comfort of my living room.

Maybe it's the tired and emotional state I'm in, but just had a lump in the throat moment at the greatest line in rock n roll. Which is the 13th line of this.

Aches and strains

My left big toe is sore. My right achilles tendon is swollen. My knees are stiff, and the right one is grazed. I can hardly see straight I'm so tired. And my head is hot. I've got that Sunday evening feeling back. The feeling of pain and contentment, that so punctuated my 20s and early 30s; and I love it.

For the second Sunday running, I've been on my FA Level 1 coaching course at Wilmslow High School. The coach is a proper football geezer called Bill Prendergast, who's been at Crewe Alex and Manchester City. He has similar values to me on kids football and brings a real element of fun to the sessions.

While the lessons on the rules of football and how to operate at junior football level are classroom based, most of the time is spent being subjects in the other 22 coaches drills. It is absolutely brilliant fun. The others are either young blokes about my age who want to help the clubs their children play for, or even younger lads who are keen as mustard and brilliant at football.

Each of us was given a training routine from the FA course handbook to run, starting with a gentle warm up called "traffic lights".

My session involved getting 12 volunteers to play "three pots in" or "three and in" or "Wembley" as we knew it as kids, on four separate pitches, coned off my me. It should have been so simple, but I over complicated it, confused the rest of the players and had to run through it all again. I think part of the problem was I was 19th out of 22 and the rest of them were mentally shot. And I didn't really understand the pitch diagrams in the book.

We're being assesed independently next week, so we have to get it right in every regard. Starting with a session plan.

We drew our running order today for next week's big test. I'm 20th. Wish me luck.

The Leaving of Liverpool

I went to Liverpool today to be a panellist on a debate about the direction the city is going in. The chairman and host was Frank McKenna of Downtown Liverpool in Business (pictured, tieless) and a man with the eye on the prize of being Mayor of Liverpool one day. The debate was recorded and will be broadcast on CityTalk radio soon.

My role in proceedings, I suspect, was to be the gobby Manc who dares to criticise the dignity of This Great City of Ours. Anyway, I have a bit of a thing at the moment about Manchester's complacency and a crisis of confidence. So to hear people in Leeds and Liverpool spend so much energy worrying about "that lot down the M62" seems strange. Odd isn't it, how internal and exernal perceptions can differ so widely?

I also like the Scouse spirit and am not overly given to sneering Manc superiority - not actually being a Manc and all that - so they should have booked Terry Christian if that's what they wanted.

Anyway, I've been so busy rushing to get home through mad traffic, and enjoying curry, beer, kids, Twitter banter and warm weather, I've only just thought about the debate. I managed to say most of the above, and get away with saying - "get your chip off your shoulder" - and not get chucked down the fire escape. I also suggested a single stadium for Everton and Liverpool would be a potent symbol of the city's cultural maturity - adding, "and those Everton fans who say they refuse to share a purple seat with Doctor Fun should grow up."

There seemed to be a consensus that the European Capital of Culture year in 2008 was about the city feeling good about itself, but with little culture and hardly anything European. Unless anyone from the national media (or Manchester) says that, to which the response is that it was a terrific success. It feels like a great big Scouse wedding. Now they're having the scrap in the car park afterwards.

I also seem to remember predicting during the discussion that the Conservatives won't win the next election outright. I think I ought to expand on that sometime soon, but I'm tired and want to listen to some gentle music as I wait for my woman of the hearthfire to return from her girls night out in Burnley.

Some bookmarks at the end of June

A flat in my old house in London is for sale for an eye watering amount of money. I wonder if the lad from the flat on the first floor still keeps his stash of crack in that cubby hole under the stairs.

Real Journalism's David Conn plays sweeper in the epic tale of the BBC Panorama saga - Harry Redknapp, Kevin Bond and Sam Allardyce never sued.

Blogging is dead say the experts - here and here. And do you know what, there's a scientific theory of this, The Hype Cycle - here - blogging is heading for the "trough of disillusionment" and Twitter has someway to go on the way towards the "peak of inflated expectations". Personally I think I'm on the "plateau of productivity" with The Marple Leaf.

David Quinn feels deep in the trough. He shouldn't. Words Dept is a good blog - spread the word.

Augmented reality. Clever stuff.

I bought these trainers in Liverpool today. Couldn't resist.

Season ticket sales going well down Ewood way.

As undergraduate sociologists in the 1980s we would debate the plethora of jokes that would follow a death or a disaster. Coping mechanism, or just heartless twerps? Following the tragic death of Michael Jackson, I present the case for the prosecution.

Seething Wells RIP

I was sad to read today that Steven Wells had died from cancer in Philadelphia. He was a writer for the NME in the 80s – sometimes under the name Susan Williams. There’s a great obituary from James Brown here: “the brilliant NME writer with no real interest in music”.

Other tributes here, here and here is his last column for Philadelphia Weekly. His last published words:

You could blame this fallacy on poor education, cultural deterioration, or simple moral decline.

Me? I blame it on sunshine. I blame it on the moonlight. I blame it on the boogie.

I met him at the Dukes Playhouse in Lancaster in 1982 after he performed at a poetry festival. I loved his punk poet stance and his aggressive polemics. He was probably the first celebrity that I met, though he would have been horrified at the thought.

When I was planning my own fanzine (Positive Feedback) he was so encouraging. He gave us an interview, and wrote back with a load of tips and hints which was brilliant and let us publish his ranting poem: "Agro Britain". So, he’s partly responsible for setting me on my way.

I have just replayed his terrific spoken word single – Agro Britain, Godzilla versus The Tetleybittermen, Ha Ha Ha, Police Dog. Brilliant.

Team Z - the strange world of junior football

It’s been a whirlwind end to the season at Marple Athletic. As you may know, three of our tribe play each week – Joe for the Under 10s and Max and Louis with the Under 8s.

Earlier this month Joe’s team braved torrential rain to compete in a tournament over in Warrington. They topped their first round group. The toughest opponents were a team called – on the programme – Team Z. Then they adopted another name on the score board, then another at a later point. But let’s just call them Team Z. They were big lads and one boy in particular had a great left foot. The last match in the group ended 0-0, which the boys were really pleased about. It certainly gave them the confidence to beat Mossley Hill, who had become a bit of a bogey team in recent tournaments. But something didn’t seem right.

At the Fleetwood tournament in May three of our boys were effectively accused of being over age. This is a tough call to make in kids football. Fielding players from an older age group is bang out of order. Passports were produced. Apologies were made. We’re a pretty serious club and wouldn’t ever do anything like this. It’s been known for players from a YOUNGER age group to make up the numbers, but never older.

ANYWAY! Our lads reached the final where they met the Team Z again. It was a good game. Marple lost after extra time. There was also this bizarre tournament rule once extra time started whereby a player was removed from each team every minute, starting with the goalkeepers.

To cut a long story Team Z won 3-1. As I said, something wasn’t right. In Under 10s football, if there is ever a problem, it’s usually with the parents. Except in this case there weren’t any. One Mum and a bloke in United shorts were running the team and they were pretty low key. And that, we thought was that. The boys were big and we just took it that they must feed them well in Z land.

Every other team they played that day complained about them. This usually happens when teams lose and there were a few teams present with gobby parents with a lot to say for themselves. The complaint was mainly that the kids looked big.

Anyway, wheels turned, days passed, questions were asked. Answers were received. It turned out that two of their players were 12. One was 14. I said I thought they were big. They were disqualified and Marple Athletic were declared the tournament winners.

At the club presentation night on June 12 we were able to present the trophy to the boys and spring this surprise news on them. The delight on their faces was something to behold.

But get this. Two days later they get beaten in another tournament. One of the kids in the team – a very big lad – was also playing for Team Z. But his mother assured he was 10. And that he has now found a nice new club away from the kind of cheats who would field 12 and 14 year olds.

I have seen a whole new world in my three years of involvement in junior football, but this takes some beating.

Take That and Freddie

I got a call from a well connected pal this afternoon. He'd had a cry off for Take That tomorrow night. Would me and Rachel like to come along? Other guests included Andrew Flintoff and some other talent from the same sporting stable.

We don't have a babysitter. Doh.

Dead cities

At a lunch I hosted last week at the Radisson Edwardian Free Trade Hall, a noted chronicler of urban affairs, Phil Griffin, contributed to the discussion with his usual colour and clarity. But can you guess which city he was talking about?

May I say if you take the longest possible historical view then it is that cities die.

There are examples all over the world of the corpses of dead cities.

And as we sit here in this room we are observing the death of a city in our lifetime. I think that is extraordinary. It has gone from being, when I was a child, one of the most prosperous cities on earth, to being virtually uninhabitable.

It is just horrific that it has gone from having 7 and a half million contented residents to being a dead place. However prosperous it thought it was it didn’t have a sense of its own decline.

It didn’t face the faults of its own internal mechanisms. One of which was that it was a mono economy.

Neither did it recognise when its cultural flagships were leaving town. That one of the reasons the city was as boisterous and prosperous as it was had actually just fled to the coast.

We have come to the end of the phase of post-industrial cities which began in earnest when Pascal Maragal said at the end of the 1992 Olympics in Barcelona that "we have reinvented the city as a cultural phenomena."

The gloves are now off. We can see cities dying before our very eyes. That is very cautionary.

Where was Phil talking of?

Bookmarks for mid June

This character is standing against Hazel Blears at the next election. I dare you not to peek at his book and marvel at the detailed research.

The Daily Mail run some quite ridiculous reader polls - this backlash is brilliant though, a Twitter inspired campaign to vote Yes to the question - should gypsies get preferential treatment on the NHS? - 93 per cent in favour when I voted. Hilarious.

A message to Yorkshire people who voted BNP. The people who voted BNP think that they have been told the truth. Hell, on the streets of Barnsley the people didn’t even know the name of the BNP candidate they had voted for. My job is to tell people the truth. I play music, so that should be easy – anything that’s a lie sounds like dissonance, out of tune, discordant to me.

I'm an enormous admirer of The Word magazine and all its podcasts, website stuff etc. I thought this month's cover story on Bono lapsed into nastiness.
‘Superstar saviour or sanctimonious git? Bono On Trial: A WORD investigation.’ is here.
Here's the case for the defence from Neil McCormick.

A Rovers blogger is here.

Football and Finance

Went to the Deloitte Football Business dinner last night. What a good do. The report on the finances of football is a peerless piece of research, Dan Jones always presents it very well and the guest list is top draw; good lads from around town who like football, mainly.

Had a good chat to Martin Goodman, the FD at Blackburn Rovers. It's clear from the financial position of Rovers in the Premier League that any activity in the transfer market will depend on the sale of Crocque Santa Cruz. That referee who sent Jason Roberts off against West Brom probably cost the club £1.5m. Matt Derbyshire looks like he's Greece bound. The new South African is quick and there have been enquiries for Keith Andrews from Premier League clubs. Amazing.

The continual difficulty is that Rovers have very little capital headroom. Any new investment would really help. This rather neatly follows on from the dialogue I've been having on here. But I still maintain that the Walker Trust is preferable to many flaky alternatives.

Other people at our table were Dan Jones, Graham Wallace of Man City, Ashley Lewis who used to be on the board at City and who now works for Steve Morgan owner of Wolves, Marple lad Phil Pinder, and Bill Dawson from Deloitte. Much banter on the fixture list followed.

On table 3, Brendan Flood from Burnley didn't show. But he has a lot on his mind.

Another feature of the night is the trivia question Dan Jones comes up with to keep me on my toes. His was: Name all 23 foreign managers in the Premier League.

Mine was can you name the five players who have played for at least four different European Cup or Champions League winning teams but have never won it themselves?

Dedicated follower of fashion and food

Got asked for London food tips the other day by William of Preston. Observations may be all worth sharing. A few clobber nods too.

I used to go to a good pie and mash shop on Exmouth Market near work but it’s probably in the middle of nowhere at weekends.

There’s one called Robins in Bethnal Green, near the tube. It’s not far from the Krays old stomping ground. Head back towards the City and you come to brick Lane, which is where you can get one of the best sandwiches you will ever taste. Jewish who don’t eat bacon boil a joint of salted beef, then serve thick thick slices with mustard in a beigel (pronounced Boygul). Nectar.

Thought you might like this.

I used to live in Pimlico and one of our local cafes was the Regency, nothing flash, greasy spoon, 1940s styling, but I last saw it when Morty gave Freddie a proper shoeing in the film Layer Cake.

If you fancied a mooch around Chelsea’s manor, get off at Parsons Green, head for the green, turn right at St Dionis Road and there’s an authentic little boozer called The Jolly Brewer – Denis Waterman gets in on matchdays. Pub on the opposite side of the green is the White Horse (Sloaney Pony).

For clobber shopping I’ve discovered this great little shop on Beak Street at the bottom of Carnaby Street called Albam. Really nice classic originals.

There’s also a boss shop in Covent Garden called The Loft

You’d be mad not to pop into the Stone Island shop. My pal Andy Dick (lives at Churchtown near Garrrrrrrstang, know him? Leeds fan.) is on first name terms with the manager, pop in and have a chat, he’ll put you on a mailing list, let you have first dabs at new lines.

Real life, just around the corner

I've been using Twitter with gay abandon. I subscribe to the view that you've got to immerse yourselves in this kind of thing if you're in any kind of business that views communication as important.

Phil Jones has blogged on this quite a lot - this is his best summary yet - here.

Then there's this from Pav at the Oldham Chron. "It all sounds just a bit seedy if you ask me." Oh dear.

I also bow to the much greater judgement of Matthew (aged 7) and Elliot (aged 4) about their social network - Club Penguin. Why do you go on it boys?- "because of the Puffles and because of the fun". Good enough for me, chaps. You carry on.

There's a view that some people keep separate identities for work and the rest. I think it's a sensitive and important area to consider, but I draw the line at being anonymous. I only have the daft name Marple Leaf on Twitter because my real name and various versions of it were taken. Michael is the fourth most common name of English speaking men of my age, Taylor is the third.

I liken it to going to a business networking event. I gave up drinking at these things a while ago, for example, so have developed methods of moderating my behaviour. I do put my serious head on, but I always end up breaking the ice and talking like a human being. There are also so many areas where real life and work life collide. Yesterday, for example, I had lunch with the chairman of Mountfield Rovers Junior Football Club in his capacity as someone important around Manchester. Sure, it was important for our respective businesses, but we get on as human beings because we have a common link around our other roles as fathers and "football people".

Similarly, my Twitter followers and people I follow represent all areas of my life. They include serious people I know through business, national politics, community events, family members and through work. They also reflect other quirky things that make me happy like pies, trainers and winding up Alastair Campbell.

I can't separate all of that. But I can edit it. I am who I am. I don't blurt out everything about my life, but all that I'm happy to tell someone I meet at the Tripe Dressers Ball is all there in social networks. And just as I don't write about work on here that much, so too you won't find articles about trainers in Insider. That said, I'm doing a site visit to Umbro soon...

Deli delights of Marple

Blimey, it looks like there's annother deli opening in Marple. The shopfitters have been working hard at a space at the bottom of Church Lane, next door to Corals.

That would make it 3. Deli Select on Hollins Lane is good for cheese and interesting snacks. And Toast on Market Street holds some lovely foodie events.

I hope there's enough to go around.

In defence of the Walker Trust

I was hoping to have a month off football. My post on the lack of action on the sale of Blackburn Rovers was commented on by Vinjay who didn't like my defence of the Walker Trust. As owners go I don't think they're so bad. He disagrees.

Absolutely. Apart from lack of funding, lack of ambition and lack of any communication whatsoever with the supporters they are wonderful.

1. Lack of funding
Basically, the trust stump up £3m a year, which tops up the TV money, the ticket sales and sponsorship. They aren't willing to hand over blank cheques to a manager to pay silly money for players. It has to be self funding and sustainable and sensible. We just aren't able to compete financially with Villa, City and the Big Four. Get used to it. Newcastle were big spenders. Look where it got them.

2. Lack of ambition
Mark Hughes helped Rovers punch above their weight? Paul Ince's appointment was a disaster bit it wasn't without ambition. The Academy set up is good. Some creative ideas to fill the stadium when needed were the envy of football.

3. Lack of communication
I disagree. Rovers chairman John Williams is, if anything, too open and honest.

A few quick bookmarks

Frank McKenna on a grubby day for democracy. I'm his "friend".

Patronising crap in The Daily Telegraph on Northern technology companies and the start-up scene being better in London - good comments at the end.

Big it up for David Ottewell at the Manchester Evening News - great scoops on Hazel Blears, James Purnell and fair play to him for the anti-BNP campaign.

Sports photo of the year

Rovers takeover - nothing doing

There's been no movement on the takeover at Blackburn Rovers. There has been a rumour that Red Bull were looking at it, but that was rooted in the new away kit being like that of Red Bull Salzburg who Rovers played in 2006.

They erased Salzburg's past, which didn't go down well with the fans. So don't expect to see a warm reception for this, should it ever come to pass.

Silver linings on dark clouds

There aren't many, to be fair. Seeing the BNP elected is every bit as depressing as I contemplated. I thought I'd feel better if I bobbed along to the rally in Piccadilly Gardens after work, instead I got even more depressed. A big cheer for the chairman of the Unite Against Fascism campaign. Why? He ran a campaign that failed. They played music by Sam Cooke and Bob Marley and blithely announced that such music would be banned by the BNP. How ridiculous.

The chanting and banner waving was pathetic. The speaker announced that "direct action had prevented the BNP from gaining entry to Manchester Town Hall last night." Cue huge cheers. Oh dear. Er, they did manage to get in. Look, he's here, the one with one eye, making a speech, here. And the pictures of the protests looked dreadful. Political street fighting and thuggery from the fascist left. That's right, the fascist left. Go and read the messages on the Manchester Evening News website.

Jonathan Schofield felt the same way, here.

So, what has happened here? Here are some thoughts.

Ear I Am is good. Blame lies with the people who voted for the BNP. End of. But who are they and why?

The spread of support for the BNP was concentrated in key areas for them. True, they had a small bedrock (about 4 per cent), but they needed peaks of support of about three times that. So, taken as a whole, support in Manchester was low (3 per cent), as it was in Stockport (about 4 per cent). But that was outweighed by support in the borough of Pendle which saw BNP support at 12 per cent. But drill down even more into the support for the BNP at the Lancashire County Council election and the picture begins to emerge that by working the streets of Colne, Burnley and Padiham the BNP got their vote out in large enough numbers to lift it over that 8 per cent threshold region wide.

We know that part of the world pretty well. Colne is a white town. Nelson is mainly Asian. When you analyse the Lancashire County Council district votes you see how Nelson North, mainly Asian, with a slate of Asian candidates for all the parties, the BNP did badly. In Nelson South, they still did less well, because it is a more integrated area. But up the road in Colne, it's a different story. A segregated housing policy (by stealth, or otherwise), a lack of integration between communities has bred a deep sense of them and us. It's a hopeless situation. It's exacerbated by news reports where no descriptions of the criminals police are seeking are released. Everyone in the area knows the subtext, but it's a truth that is unspoken for fear of stirring an already incendiary pot.

And where it matters, the BNP are the only party prepared to listen to white working class voters. Fraser Nelson made much the same point while on the stump in Watford.

This is the first important point to note: there is no explicit talk of race, immigration or the death penalty (which the BNP supports). Just rats. This chap had a problem; his councillor fixed it and secured at least one vote. This is a significant and new aspect of the BNP’s strategy. Just as Lib Dems talk about holes in the road, not holes in the nation’s finances, the BNP (in spite of its nationalist identity) focuses relentlessly on the local. It targets councils with huge (normally Labour) majorities which have, for whatever reason, lost the will or capacity to campaign and govern well. The BNP then seeks to make itself useful: most recently, by sending squads to clear litter in strategic locations. It is a devious ploy: distracting public attention from the racist reality of the BNP by presenting itself as the ‘helpful party’.

But why are people even giving them the time of day? In the paper today Sunny Hundal makes the point about the failure of politicians to get any kind of anti-fascist message across.

I hope this result also puts an end to anti-BNP gesture politics. There are those photo-ops where all the parties come together to tell people to "vote anyone but the BNP". If such people gave us a reason to vote and didn't sound like such vacuous robotic idiots on television, then more of us might even be persuaded to vote. These sorts of gestures only reinforce the BNP's anti-establishment credentials and ensure that people who want to vote "none of the above" vote for them.

Add to this there was a complete lack of positivity. A complete lack of hope. No-one is offering a brighter future. Not even Cameron's shiny new Conservatives.

But there is light at the end of this dark tunnel. These people are nutters. They will now have to face the same level of scrutiny as other politicians for the decisions they make and the examples they set. Not just the things they have said. On Radio 5 live this morning Nicky Campbell gave Griffin an open shot at goal to say something other than just to bleat about race. He blew it, he dismissed global warming as a hoax (much as he dismissed the Holocaust, here).

Pretty much every councillor they've elected has been a total disaster, there's no reason to assume this odious man will be any different or more competant.

So we've got fascist MEP. He's going to cock it up. That will be worth watching. Until then, keep hope alive, keep love alive. And speak truths. As George Orwell said, "liberty, if it means anything, is the right to tell people what they don't want to hear."

Ten thoughts on the current political turmoil

Gordon Brown sounded alright on the radio as I was driving back from Harrogate yesterday. But when you see his body language and facial ticks you can tell he's absolutely wretched with it all.

James Purnell looks like a weak weasel now.

And Hazel Blears looks ridiculous. She is completely disconnected from reality.

Caroline Flint clearly was onto something when she said she was just part of the window dressing. I think she was marked down as some kind of Sarah Palin figure - and looked what happened to her. Also, she says "er, you know" more than David Beckham. Comments below this are interesting.

The appointment of Sir Alan Sugar - like the phone calls to Simon Cowell and Piers Morgan - is a joke. He is no longer a serious business figure.

Why do pundits rate Alan Johnson? What's he done? Apart from come across as a normal bloke?

David Cameron looks ludicrous as he hops up and down getting giddy about an election he can't lose. Isn't it a worry that he doesn't say anything of substance at all?

Isn't politics horrible? I have friends who are attracted by the idea of public service, but would you seriously want all this grief?

With Nick Robinson wittering on about politics and personalities, I almost miss Robert Peston.

The BNP getting a seat in Burnley is awful. Really bad. They polled 8000 votes across Lancashire, a good share. Assuming those same fools also voted fascist in the European election, they could be well placed for hitting the 8 per cent share in the European elections that they need to get their leader elected. HOWEVER, I cannot believe they have got their vote out in such numbers in Greater Manchester, Cheshire and Merseyside. They did in Cumbria. AND, there's the UKIP factor which might soak up the protest votes. Fingers crossed.

Bookmarks for early June

Time travel seduction - This is one of the funniest things I've seen in ages.

Somalia beat Rwanda to win the Third World Cup - from The Onion - "In the Third World Cup every group is the group of death."

Thinker Charles Leadbeater is coming to do some talks in the North - The Art of With

Roque Santa Cruz - the first Paraguayan Rugby League player

Nice Trainers Mate - Another good website about trainers

A reference to the story of the Adidas Opus Dei

Spiteful piece about Rafa Benitez

I've been at the Yorkshire International Business Convention today - enjoyed being part of a sizable Twitterati - made some new chums - #yibc - feed results

Caroline Flint - her resignation letter - and an old favourite for old time's sake

Vote today, stop the BNP

Have you voted? Go on get out and vote. Make sure the fascists don't get in.

London - salt beef, kofte and Eccles Cake

Got a gentle nudge from my bessie mate John Dixon today, wondering when The Marple Leaf was going to diss his hood. I'd spent a brilliant weekend with John and his wonderful little lad Michael. We didn't do a lot, but that's what quality time with the people you love is all about - time with them.

I do love the range of food in London. And John was good enough to organise our diversions around my old foodie faves.

In no particular order they were:

A memorable Eccles cake from this posh gaff opposite Spitalfields

A salt beef beigel from Brick Lane

Turkish from an Okakbasi in Highbury

Yours Sancerrely

It was so good to welcome Rachel, Elliot, Max and Louis home last night (they've been camping in the Loire Valley in the centre of France, as you do). I managed to keep the house looking tidy, though the fridge had a bachelor look about it - one bottle of beer, half a carton of milk, fresh coffee, pate, cheese and some mouldy salad that needed chucking.

Happily it is also now stocked with nice cheese like Rocquefort and, best of all, five bottles of Sancerre. I think this is the king of white wines. It has everything it should have and never disappoints. I am writing this whilst sat on Bristol Temple Meads station and stuffed with a top lunch from Hotel du Vin, but the thought of being sat in our conservatory as the sun sets, crisp glass of Sancerre in hand, woman of my hearthfire at my side and the twittering of Marple's avian community filling the dusky air will keep me sane for the next 4 hours.