Links Under Construction

Sunday, 26 October 2008

What he said

It's not often that I agreed with the Daily Mail (or, in this case, their Sunday publication). However I read this editorial piece today - I really can't add anything to it. Mr Collins has hit the nail on the head...

Ten years ago this week, a young woman named Angie Rowe picked up a microphone, took a deep breath and launched a passionate plea for her local football club. At that time, the club was on the brink of oblivion. Its debts were crushing, its assets were negligible, and it occupied 92nd and last place in what we once called the Football League.

And yet, on a cold, rain-lashed evening, 150 people gathered at a city centre hotel to see if the club might dare to dream of a viable future. Angie had called the meeting to form the 'Tigers Co-operative Trust Fund' with the aim of issuing shares, raising money and giving the fans an independent voice. She spoke with quiet eloquence.

'We don't want pitch invasions, poster campaigns, hate mail, anything like that,' she said. 'But there comes a point when you can't carry on saying: "I can't do anything about it." We can all do something if we try.' I well remember the impressive dignity of the occasion. I remember the applause for a large, shaven-headed gentleman when he announced: 'My family's already decided to chip in £2.50 a week for 10 months. My mother's agreed, my sister's agreed. And they don't even like football!' Above all, I remember the defiant intensity of their belief that Hull City Football Club would one day achieve something wonderful.

Hull experienced some hard and hazardous times in the years that followed that fateful night but their subsequent success has done those dreamers proud.

Which brings us to Phil Gartside.

Phil is the chairman of Bolton, a member of the FA board and another of football's dreamers. Phil's dream is to have not one but two Premier Leagues, each of 18 clubs, with no relegation from Premier League Two.

He says: 'It would be revolutionary. But I don't think this would be as revolutionary as when the Premier League was set up and we should open our minds to change.'

Shrugging off the notion of Phil Gartside as Che Guevara, and setting aside a long-held personal conviction that the formation of the Premier League was an unmitigated calamity for English football, let us focus on his support for the abolition of relegation.

This is Gartside's crude and artless way of telling us that he has spent far too many seasons worrying whether Bolton are going to go up or down and that he would like some peace of mind and security of pocket, thank you very much.

He'd quite like to give himself a bit of insurance with two plump and greedy leagues and, as for the rest of the losers, well, they know what they can do.

Richard Scudamore, the chief executive of the Premier League, was quick to squash Gartside's exercise in self-protection, pointing out that the threat of relegation sharpens the competitive edge. However, we recall Scudamore's fumbling flirtation with the so-called 39th game. We also recall his claim that the Premier League was 'a shining example of redistribution'.

When Scudamore speaks, it is best to have several buckets of salt close at hand.

In fact, the current Premier League's broadcasting contracts stand at some £2.7billion, which guarantees each team between £28million and £50million a season until 2010.

By contrast, the Football League's television deal will be worth £264m between 2009 and 2011. Or slightly more than £1.2m per Football League club per season, with most of the money going to Championship clubs.

Those of us who recall the relatively happy days, when the Football League was a sturdy co-operative with each club enjoying a reasonable share of the game's income, will treat Scudamore's 'shining example' with appropriate derision.

Which takes us back to the bold Gartside.

In the course of his ramblings he demanded that British club owners be protected from the invasion of foreign investors: 'The Sheik of wherever and people like the Glazers.'

So, foreign players are more than welcome - and Bolton have welcomed them by the score. Yet foreign owners should be treated as a threat to upstanding Brits like Mike Ashley. Truly, Phil's logic is as questionable as his taste.

But let us return to the season, 10 years ago this week, when they held that significant meeting in Hull's city centre. Let us see what Phil's far-sighted plan might have produced at the close of 1998-99. Well, the top 36 clubs would have been fine, of course, including Bolton in 26th place. But among the names who would have been cast into the outer darkness, with no possibility of redemption, were Portsmouth, Fulham, Wigan, Stoke, Reading and Manchester City.

As for Hull City, who finished 89th, they would have had no place in Gartside's exclusive cartel. Yet this was the club for whom Angie Rowe declared: 'We can all do something if we try.'

And this is the club which is now rubbing shoulders with the elite of the English game. So let's tip our hats to the strivers and the fighters. Let's acclaim the people who believe we can all make a difference. Let's ignore the squeals of brazen self-interest from the likes of Phil Gartside.

And let's hear it for the dreamers.



Quite right, that man. Not something I envisioned myself saying about a journalist from the Mail.


Wednesday, 1 October 2008

Oh friend, where art thou?

Mick Bradbury, I have no idea why that name suddenly came to me yesterday but it did. Mick was my best friend during my primary school days, we lived pretty much in each other's pockets - whether we were playing football on the school grounds where I lived, kicking around on the close where he lived, or going down to the old Fosse cinema for the mid-week showcase (a Disney movie, following on from a humorous short and a documentary).

I remember all sorts of good times, and very few bad (although I'm sure there were some). Right up until the age of 11, when my family moved three miles up the road during my last junior year. A year after that we were both at the same high school, yet I honestly don't think that we ever spoke to each other again - not through a falling out, just because our paths rarely crossed - and that break of around 8 months was like a brick wall between us.

The wonder of technology, of course, is that you can now track people down through the likes of Facebook, Friends Reunited, and countless other sites. After his name came to mind yesterday I had a quick look, but no joy. Then again, I'm not sure whether I really wanted to find him or not? It's strange, I really hope that he's enjoying life and having a great time, I hope that his brother and parents are all well, but I'm not really sure what I'd say to him if his name popped up on my screen. It would be the digital equivalent of bumping into someone you've not seen for years - a brief "hello, how are you?" and then an uncomfortable silence... then again maybe that's just me, maybe most people find loads to talk about in those situations?

It got me thinking though, this extended society that the Internet (and other forms of connectivity) has delivered is surely as much a 'problem' as it is a solution? Sure I can go off in search of Mick, or of the guys I used to know from Fools & Heroes (Cam, Ed, Big Jim, and the crew). I could try and track down people I used to work with, or the folks who used to hang out at Alcatraz (nee Sector 5) - although scratch that, the latter might be difficult as I rarely knew anyone by more than their first name!!

I still have a solid core of friends picked up along the way, from all stages of my life (at least from 11 years onward), and I'm sure that in ten years I'll be able to look back on people from - for example - the cricket club, and think to myself "whatever happened to...?".

The technology, and 'social networking' (to use a noughties phrase), available today will be able to help me find out - in some cases at least - and to have that awkward conversation from the comfort of my own home. It's been responsible for plenty of losses to, though. There's the 'Dark Age of Camelot' crowd that I spent so many hours online with - Ricey, Ovi, Raven, and many many more - I'm in touch with a couple by email, but these are people I felt truly connected to and yet I haven't spoken to since I cancelled my account.

The same goes for the group of gamers I used to hook up with on my Xbox 360. I'm still in online contact with a few, Crippler (Rob), Sparky (Holly) and Defentropy (Arlo) are all on my Facebook and/or MySpace lists but conversations are minimal - yet, two years ago, I'd spend three or four hours every Saturday and Sunday morning talking to them through that cheap headset (those guys are all from across the Atlantic, so they would be hitting midnight sessions, and I'd be trying to shake the sleep from my brain).

So, if any of you mentioned above - or anyone else who I know (or knew) does happen to read this - rest assured that I'm interested in how life is with you. I wish all of you every happiness and success, and I'd love to hear from you - just be a bit pushy, because otherwise I'm likely to just stand here looking a bit sheepish.