English World Cup Success And Welsh Football Fans

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Until the arrival of Kuwaiti money the best title for a football book ever was Colin Shindler's autobiography Manchester United Ruined My Life. That title alone explained what it was like to be a Manchester City fan when Manchester United were seemingly winning everything and their local rivals were forever struggling.

Crucially even in the rare occasions Manchester City did well. United seemed to find a way to top it by doing something just that little bit better.

Analogies can be taken so far. But I suspect that's the position Welsh football fans feel like at the moment.

Outside of Wales the ABE (Anyone But England) reaction to England's World cup success is taken as jealously. Taken as a whole I'd argue this isn't the case. For most Welsh football fans England is the team you love to hate in the same way Manchester City fans love to beat United. Having a main "bad guy" is part of being a sports fan. If you are not in a tournament then you support the team your biggest rival is facing. Simple as. As an Englishman I get this and have no problem with it.

There is though an anger (as I've explained before) at the expectation Welsh football fans should support England. The example of the BBC Radio Wales phone-in asking "Are We All English Now". Or the Principality stadium speculating on the English team for a game (note the Principality stadium) or as I've seen this morning a Twitter ad from Budweiser offering a free drink to celebrate England's success …..in England and Wales only. This sublimation of Wales' own aspirations is something happily foisted upon this nation unlike Scotland.

And of course let's not forget Secretary State for Wales and walking doormat Alun Chucky Cairns happily letting the cross of Saint George fly over the Welsh office in London. Though let's face it who was surprised Chucky didn't argue about that?

What we have also seen is a preview of attitudes by some English people post Brexit. I've written before how Welsh people should prepare to be treated by some English Brexiteers in a condescending master serf like manner that they would not try on anyone else. This has also raised anger here.

Most of all though there is a certain sense of wistfulness that the magnificent achievement that Wales, smaller in the pool of player resources it could count upon than it's larger neighbour, was able to reach the semi finals of Euro 2016 seems now to have been a long time ago. During that time when companies tried to do England team promotions in Wales, were called out and shamefacedly withdrew them.  When Wales became Wales far more than any six nations would allow. When it acted independently from anyone else. When for a short time. It seemed free.

Now that England have reached the semi finals of the World Cup Euro 2016 seems an irrelevance to English fans now. As it should be.

So what can Wales do to return to those heady 2016 moments? Well more knowledgeable football minds than me could do a better job on that issue. Starting with my wife who says the Welsh women could start the upturn qualifying for their World Cup by beating their opponents in the last qualifying match next month.

Their opponents are England.

Better keep my mouth shut on that.

Until the next time.

The Football Book For Everyone

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

When I started the exercise on reading every football book in the Bridgend library area I never expected to be able to recommend one that could appeal to those who loved,hated or was just plain indifferent to the sport. Forever Young by Oliver Kay proved me wrong.

Obviously a knowledge of football helps in it's reading. But the key point in this book is the universal issue, not just in football but in other walks of life as well as life itself where you have an ambition and a talent to reach the pinnacle of that ambition only to have it suddenly and irrevocably taken away.

It's the story of the life of Adrian Doherty. A young man whose talent led him from Northern Ireland to the Manchester United youth team of the early nineties alongside people around that time as Beckham. the Neville brothers and particularly Ryan Giggs (a player who he was often compared more favourably than).Why he didn't reach that level I won't spoil. Let's just say that there's no stain on his character.

If you just read an outline of his life you would have then thought that it was one of tragic decline whilst people who had equal and/or lesser talent achieved superstardom. You would have also thought that Aiden Doherty would've lived the rest of his life racked with bitterness and resentment (I know I would have been). Oliver Kay shows that this wasn't case. Partly due to a quietly resilient personality and also because he had other passions to fall back on when football was no longer an option. And to those non sporting people his post football life takes up about half of the book.

Towards it's end Kay discusses a disturbing issue with regard to why Adrian Doherty left football. Again I won't spoil things by discussing it here, suffice it to say that it deserves an answer.

And how good is the book? If I was just to say I read in a two day period and was gripped perhaps that would be enough. It's a tribute to Oliver Kay's writing and of course the hero that is Aiden Doherty.

I won't be able to go to the library again until Monday so a new non Penguin/Pelican paperback is required. The book from the great unread is:

Helene Hanff - Letter From New York

This is from a series of monthly of broadcasts that the author of 84 Charing Cross Road did for BBC's Woman's Hour in the late eighties. When I finish reading it I think I'd have finished all of her books, certainly those published in Britain.

Until the next time.

In Which I Support Manchester United For The Day And Other Couch Potato News

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

I have cancelled my Sky Sports subscription now that the final West Ham/Boleyn game has come and gone. However there is about three weeks or so before the channels are taken off my screen and so I won't deny I've watched/recorded other things.But these have been football matches, and as it's the tail end of the season not that many at that.

With one exception.

Because after having made myself a cup of tea and porridge once I'd woken up yesterday (Saturday). I plonked my backside onto the sofa and watched a recording of the previous night's Natwest T20 game between Essex and Surrey. Cricket wise although I must admit it's normally a sport I'd rather follow on the radio the team I do follow is Essex. This is because when I was a child they would play a Sunday League game at Valentine's Park in Ilford near where I'd lived when (much) younger.

Of course many things have changed since then. For example 20/20 cricket didn't exist, and you didn't then have to wonder how a bank bailed out by the taxpayer is sponsoring a sports competition. Still, Essex is the team I support and so the early morning was spent watching the match.

Essex however lost. But despite the never knowingly undersold quality of Sky Sports commentary, done by people I suspect annoyed that they didn't have the Test Match Cricket gig, I'd lost interest well before that.Should've just stuck to watching football recordings.

The only piece of real energy today was I made a quick trip to Porthcawl for a bit of shopping and a quick trip to the library. The weather was grim, though Porthcawl can still give a good picture no matter how miserable the day.

Fifty Shades Of Grey

As hinted I've borrowed a new book from the library which is this:

The Three Degrees - Paul Rees

This is about the three Afro Caribbean players who started to play for West Bromwich Albion in the late seventies. Their experiences, including the racism which was (if you consider the bananas) literally thrown at them. It should be an interesting read.

Once all the Porthcawl stuff was done it was time to go home and get ready to become a Manchester United fan for the day.

Explanations for the unknowing are in order. At the end of the Premier League season West Ham had finished seventh. A situation which meant they had missed out of inclusion into next season's Europa League judged on that alone. Their only chance was if Manchester United,already in the competition having finished the season in fifth, won the FA cup that they were contesting that day against Crystal Palace. So it meant that yesterday I was like a lot of Manchester United fans in Britain, having never been to Manchester let alone see them play there.

It also meant that I would be watching an FA Cup Final and rooting for the favourite.

As it happens I've never hated Manchester United like other fans do. That goes for Chelsea and Manchester City too. I think it's because I'm old enough to remember when these teams failed. When they got relegated and the years of empty trophy wise.

(Incidentally speaking of the years of empty the best title of a football book ever was Manchester United Ruined My Life by Colin Schindler. Written by a City supporter during United's recent successful period and before the oil money transformed the blue side.It says everything about being a fan when things are not going well)

It doesn't mean I root for them normally (after all in most matches they are the favourite). It doesn't mean I'm immune to cracking jokes about them. It's just that there's no bitter bile that comes from my lips when they are the subject of conversation.

And as I'm rambling on the subject I don't have this hatred towards Millwall either that each others fans are apparently inserted into the DNA. To be honest I feel neutral towards them. A sort of Charlton Athletic state of being.

Tottenham come close. In recent years they've become really annoying. There's something particular about their chairman Daniel Levy that is really dislikeable. When there are shots him on the television during a game, he always looks as if he's about to produce a white cat whilst expecting the arrival of James Bond.

But of course ultimately, there's always Arsenal. I've a group of friends known since childhood from north London who have been rabid fans of the Gunners and have always sort to remind me of their successes and West Ham's failures. Remember one Sunday when I received a phone call gloating over some embarrassing Hammers defeat.For some reason - can't recall now - was in bed laid low by some bug so there was no way I could respond properly. So waited patiently for years until West Ham beat them and I rang them to gloat. I was ...ahem ...thirty five at the time.

I am a fifty two year old man now. But football,and only football has the capacity of turning me into a ten year old boy. When we beat Arsenal in the first game of the season just ended. I viewed it as the long awaited triumph of good over the forces of evil.

But anyway back to yesterday. There was one more match to see before my (temporary) team's game. I'd never watched a Scottish Cup Final Live before and having Sky Sports did give me that opportunity so I took it.It was between Hibernian and Rangers. The latter was recently promoted next season to continue their rivalry with Celtic. A confrontation I can now best describe as being like Cardiff and Swansea with added religion.

Spoiler alert: It was unquestionably the best thing I saw yesterday. Hibernian won 3-2. Thanks in no small part to Anthony Stokes. Apparently he's on loan from Celtic so I assume now that Rangers fans think that he was on an undercover mission to spoil their day. David Gray, their captain scored an injury time and you saw what it meant in his face  and the faces of players,the manager an the fans that the hoodoo of cup failure was now lifted.

Speaking of the Hibernian fans some of them invaded the pitch after the game as did a few Rangers ones. If the TV pictures were anything to go by the wringing of hands at the situation was mainly overdone as although I'm sure there were a few apes of either team it was mainly a case of the Hibs fans being drunk with happiness at their victory. It was the Hibernian manager, Alan Stubbs, who said it best. For when the Sky Sports interviewer tried to get him to condemn the situation he said though not condoning the pitch invasion he understood it. That's a man with a sense of perspective.

By the way Sunshine On Leith is probably the best football anthem ever. If you can watch on Youtube the scenes of the fans singing it after the team received the cup then do it. Your hairs will rise from the back of your neck at the emotion of it all

So to the FA Cup Final and time to watch my team play. Well the first half was, barring a few decisions from the referee Mark Clattenburg that helped United (what a fine match official he is), dull. Time travels fast in a football game when you're bored. It makes your mind wander as well to ask important questions. Such why did Alan Pardew the Crystal Palace manager wear a Triffid on his lapel? And why did the Captain of my team, Wayne Rooney,have a hair transplant when he seems to have settled for a hairstyle best described as US marine?

In the second half Palace, then much to my relief United scored. So by 90 mins the match had to go into extra half time.Then there was a long pause on the TV for about fifteen to twenty minutes whilst I went to have dinner with the other inhabitants of the house otherwise known as my wife and daughter. Unsure what my wife was doing whilst I was watching the football. Daughter was making a hat for her Design and Technology lesson at school and no, I don't understand what a hat has got to do with technology either.

Unpaused the first half of extra time was unmemorable other than for the sending off of Chris Smalling for a tackle more suited to Twickenham. In the second half though my team dominated the game and Jesse Lindgard scored an absolute cracker of a winner.

So my team had won by 2-1. But now it's Sunday my real team is now in the Europa League. So Manchester United ......thank you.

And as it's Sunday I suspect I'd better get acquainted with my wife and daughter again.

Until the next time.

In Which I Take Kim Edwards To The Dentist And I Contribute To Murdoch's Coffers To Say Goodbye To The Boleyn

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Well my long delayed appointment to the dentist eventually happened today (Tuesday). As you remember it was postponed twice when I was under the weather. I took the Penguin paperback I've been reading. The Memory Keeper's Daughter by Kim Edwards whilst I was waiting to be called in.

Of course Dentistry has gone beyond the days where pre waiting entertainment constituted a few worn fashion and motoring magazines. Now they give you a TV to view. However it's daytime TV which means mainly something along the lines of property/emergency services/ benefit scroungers/antiques/collectables/people with domestic disputes resolved in a mock court or an emotional bear pit that make you feel you're watching prewatershed MMA/progammes you like but was first shown decades ago/ general cheap trash.

Which all meant that TV was not a distraction.

It is you know a very emotional book. I find myself more amenable to such novels the older I get. A couple of years ago I found myself surprisingly affected after reading Bonjour Tristesse by Francoise Sagan. If this was in my twenties I'd have just shrugged. Age does that to you.

Things went OK at the dentist. Especially as she had seen me make the effort to come earlier this year even though I was unwell (so that was cancelled). So when I admitted that dental hygiene was the last thing on my mind during the past month I was spared a lecture.

Rupert Murdoch is a little bit richer this month. For this afternoon I had Sky Sports added to my TV package with BT. It costs £22 a month and a month is all I want. Because tonight (Tuesday) West Ham were playing Manchester United in the last ever game being played at the Boleyn. And I had to watch it.

Before I go on, and give the impression that this is not so much a post more of a eulogy for a much loved stadium. I'm not going to make any excuses for the drunken apes that smashed the Manchester United coach on the way to the ground. It didn't matter if the result was 8-0 and gave the Boleyn a memorable send off it will be this that it will be remembered for. They've disgraced the team,the memories and the majority of the supporters. Not only that but rival fans will throw tonight at our faces for a long,long while.

That all being said. They are the team I have supported as a child. I've fond memories of going to home games. Think the one that sticks in my memory of the games I went to was the first home game after the death of Bobby Moore. It was against Wolverhampton Wanderers. Before the beginning of the match there were emotional scenes as a wreath of a West Ham football shirt with a number six on it being brought on the middle of the pitch

Remember Mike, (or was it Gavin?) Small missing a chance that I could have scored without my glasses on. Wolves scoring first. It was Steve Bull (I mean who else would it be for them in that period?). West Ham won though. One of the goals was a Julian Dicks penalty. And if there was one certainty in football at that time it was that goalkeepers never saved a Julian Dicks penalty as he kicked it with a force that I've never seen before or since. They just avoided the ball.

Also, as I've mentioned before. Friends and family aside the one thing I have truly missed about moving to Wales was West Ham United. So I wasn't going to miss this match.

I have a collection of twenty football shirts,which I'll explain about in another post (though probably twenty, to a real collector, will evoke laughter bordering on mockery). There are two rules to this collection. One is that full price is never paid and the other is that it's just one per team. Of course these rules are broken for West Ham (I've four of them). This was the one I bought for its original cost and it seemed fitting I'd wear it today.

The Legend that is Dagenham Motors

Well you probably know that West Ham won memorably after having been 2-1 down. It was a wonderful game. But the final show after the match to celebrate the history of the Boleyn did make me shed a few tears I must admit (though in a manly way of course).

Let me apologise to Manchester United and their supporters for the actions of a few drunken apes...but I'm happy we won.

Until the next time.