For I Am Ten Again : Cardiff City Vs West Ham Part Two: When Reality Bites

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

So I'm here. The Cardiff City Stadium. It's about half past one. Wife has dropped me off. I'm still ten.

There is a small crowd by the players entrance. Cardiff City players are signing copies of the match programme. They go in. Soon the West Ham coach arrives. One of the first people to get out is the manager Manuel Pellegrini with a look that suggests he wasn't comfortable with the journey and moves swiftly into the players entrance. Then there is a pause, then another bunch of players emerge. Then another pause and a final group get out.

That's the back of West Ham captain's Mark Noble's head going into the Players Entrance. I can sure take a picture

I go to the gift store just to buy a few things for daughter and the matchday programme for myself. Their third strip ( a thing I hate. Just another way to fleece the fans) is on sale for £10. I was tempted to buy one for her as well but thought better of it. Until this year you would have thought it just the luminous colour of motorway maintenance which is bad enough. Now it would be also mistaken for right wing protesters in Britain and would be liable to have you attacked by French gendarmerie as part of the gilets jaune .

Gift Shopping

Eventually I get inside. I walk to my block. Past the betting kiosks and screens showing the early match Crystal Palace vs Brighton and make my way to my seat.

Bluebird Country

The players come onto the pitch. the West Ham fans are in the next block to me and sing Bubbles the theme song. Unquestionably the most realistic of all football anthems. Nothing says the agony of being a fan than the line "Fortune's always hiding. I've looked everywhere".

It would appear though that the Cardiff City DJ was ready for them. The moment Bubbles was finished immediately Men Of Harlech comes on the tannoy. Most of the crowd (including me - remember I'm a quiet hammer surrounded by Bluebirds) stand up. When that finishes the West Ham block begins singing God Save The Queen and then shouting "Engerland". Whatever the next ninety minutes or so was going to be a lesson in diplomacy was not one of them.

The West Ham block is to the left of this photo 

It was noticeable that there were some (not many) empty seats in the stadium. Mainly though for the most expensive seats contrary to what I thought earlier. My suspicion was that they were season tickets who decided to watch Scotland vs Wales which was being played at roughly the same time. However the ground was mainly full showing again that the awe of the international rugby game is not what it was, though still powerful.

The match begins

It was the fourth minute, the fourth minute you understand when Hoilett scored a goal at the near post. Cardiff City were ahead. Whatever I expected from this game Cardiff City scoring that early was not one of them.

Of course I clapped alongside the Bluebirds surrounding me but to  misquote Smokey Robinson if you took a good look at my face you'd see a smile that looked out of place.

"YOU'RE GOING DOWN. YOU'RE GOING DOWN. YOU'RE GOING DOOOWN" chants the West Ham block of fans. Whether true or not only time will tell but timing wise it smacked of sour grapes.

"ONE NIL AND YOU STILL CAN'T SING"
This goaded the guy in front of me to stand up, swear, give the finger and say things that google would ban me for. The bit I was bothered with was the standing up, given that he was spoiling my view of the game. He moved from his spot during the game. But late in the second half a group of stewards took him forcibly away from where he'd moved to.

And throughout the first half Cardiff City showed an energy and commitment seemingly absent from the last few games. In contrast West Ham only seemed to get their bearings in the last few minutes.

I had begun to notice that the guy sitting next to me was also a quiet West Ham fan amongst the Bluebirds. Clapping at the very rare West Ham attacks on the Cardiff goal. Thankfully for him not so loud as to be truly noticeable by the Welsh around him.

One-nil then to Cardiff City at the first half.

Come the second half , early in the second half, Cardiff City score again. Camarasa edging the ball passed the West Ham goalkeeper Fabianski (booed constantly - being ex Swansea City - worth noting though he stopped it being three nil soon after).

The Cardiff City fans truly began singing now. "YOU'RE GOING DOWN (etc) " was said in response again, as was bubbles. But we all really knew whose afternoon it was then.

More Action

West Ham were disappointing. They really only had two real chances. The most dramatic bring the Declan Rice shot that hit the post. Cardiff City had the greater passion. They had a purpose.

A disappointingly rare second half attack from West Ham

Perhaps Pellegrini had underestimated the Cardiff manager Neil Warnock (whose book when manager of QPR I've chatted about in this blog). What was clear was that Warnock had done his homework. He was the one who earned his wages this afternoon.

Two nil then is how the match ended. I came into the ground a ten year old boy. I existed back to my fifty five year old self. Disappointed as I am Cardiff were the better team and genuinely as I said in my previous post I hope they hang on in the Premier League. This result, as the music from the Bee Gees confirmed as I went out, that they were staying alive.

Some people later asked me whether at least I was happy to have seen the game anyway.
Of course not.
My team lost.
Reality Bites.

Until the next time.

On Cardiff City, American Football In Wales, and The South Wales Valleys....As You Do.

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

As I'm writing this the biggest sporting news is that Cardiff City have won promotion to the Premier League after four years. This time they'll be managed by Neil Warnock (author of The Gaffer which I've discussed in this blog and is a good read)..

More than Swansea City it'll be very easy for me to go and watch them play West Ham. I've done it before. All I need to do is to pretend to be a Bluebird and look dejected when West ham win whilst keeping a monk-like silence so no one will suspect that inside I'll be happy as Larry...whoever he was.

Aside from that though I genuinely wish them well (along with Swansea City, Newport and Leyton Orient). I suspect for Cardiff City next season. A dull but stable season will suit most people fine.

But whilst they were getting promotion I was watching a different sport. American Football in fact from the British National Football League. The Welsh team, the South Wales Warriors were playing and I kid you not The Jurassic Coast Raptors from Dorset. Arguably the most stupid name in American Football history.

I like American football, with it's combination of violence and chess and as it was free to watch and wife/daughter didn't have anything better to counter it with I decided to go to Llanharan Rugby Club where the game was being held by myself (they don't like the sport).

As I took my spot the Welsh team were doing their pre match training. There was eventually a fair crowd for this game, given that the players were mainly doing this for the love of the sport and not for multi-million pound contracts. Still rules are rules. A bearded man with a clipboard asked a player whether he had a Warrior strip. Given that the player was wearing the strip he was not impressed.

Next the coach introduced the team to the team to wops and cheers from the team.

The Green Army

After that he told the players he expected a high score from them. He needn't have worried as it soon became clear that this game was going to get one sided as once the Warriors scored a touchdown they soon scored another one."They're not pushing" was a comment I heard one of the Warrior players make on their opponents. And it was true. I'd put more effort in opening a Jam jar than the Raptors did on the pitch.

After touchdown two

In all honesty the Raptors were an awful team. I could only recall one significant drive they had. And they didn't score from that.

After the third touchdown you knew it was going to be the sort of victory where the opposition had neither the energy, talent or resolve to beat the Warriors.

Half time. Time for food. A Hot Dog and a Pepsi. Wouldn't have been more American at that moment unless singing a Country and Western tune.

After I had the hot dog I was reading one of the two books I'd borrowed from the library. It was this:

Matthew Quick - The Good Luck Of Right Now

Regular readers will know I didn't like the last book of his I read. I won't chat about this properly until I've finished but so far so good.

The Warriors Half Time Warm-Up

Soon after the second half started the Welsh side scored again. I'd lost count by this time.

And then they scored again. and again. Come the last quarter I knew I was going to leave early. Why? Because you could tell that the Warriors Jurassic performance had like their Dinosaur namesake rolled over and died. There was a sort of surrender in their performance which meant it was pointless to stay on. And I left with about five minutes remaining.

"The game's not over" said the offensive coach to his men as I was walking passed them. Trust me it was over a long while before that.

I decided to drive around the South Wales Valleys before I went home. It was a spur of the moment thing. So I didn't stop until I reached somewhere near Treherbert. Still the views were stunning. Here they are.











And let me repeat. If my wife dies before me I'm moving to Treorchy. No matter what my wife or her Cardiff friends and family think. And this is the reason why. Let's face it. If I didn't tell you where I was you'd think France or Tuscany.

Until the next time.

On Books and Football : Talking About True Legend Brian Clough

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Well as my mother is getting better there are less things that I have to do as nursemaid. What this means is that for the first time in a week and a half  I've had time to concentrate on reading.

So let's go to an ebook I'd actually finished Letters On Sweden,Norway and Denmark by Mary Wollstonecraft. There is a mystery about this book to me. Wikipedia stated that it was written by Mary Shelley. However the introduction suggested that it was in fact her mother.

I don't have the time or inclination to check. Personally I'm hoping that it was her writer who wrote this. If only because it was a dull read.

Dull though is a description that I wouldn't give to the next ebook that I've read Cloughie: Walking On Water:My Life.

For those of you too young to remember Brian Clough was a legendary (when the word meant something and wasn't used to describe chicken burger) manager of the seventies and eighties. Taking two unfashionable teams Derby County and Nottingham Forest to League and (with regard to Forest) European glory.

This book, published in 2002 and ghost written by John Sadler is an autobiography of this larger than life man.

Since I've started this blog I've read three books by football managers before this one. There was the amiable tome by current Cardiff City manager Neil Warnock, the stunningly badly written Sam Allardyce biography and the weird biography cum business management book by Carlo Ancelotti.

This book is not only better than those. It's one of  the best football manager autobiography I've ever read. On a par with John Lyall's Just Like My Dreams.

The start is the key. Clough is in hospital awaiting a liver transplant due to his alcoholism. He has left Nottingham Forest following relegation. As you read it there is a sense of a man knowng that time is not on his side. The brash Brian of legend is replaced by a more reflective one. Never for example have I read an autobiography where a manager acknowledges that he was partly (because of the effects of the alcoholism) responsible for a team's relegation. He also speaks about his love of the drink and his regret about his feud with former assistant Peter Taylor and later how he handled Justin Fashanu

(And yes I forgive him for his remarks on blog hero Trevor Brooking. After all Trev answered him on the pitch)

Throughout he is not afraid to mention his failures as well as his successes.

What it reminded me of was Johnny Cash's last song Hurt. A dying genius looking back on his life.

It is a biography but it's a credit to Clough and John Sadler that rt reads as if he's chatting to you. He will speak about a subject meander and then go back to the main subject of the chapter. And you know what? It works.

Of the three books I mentioned earlier, it puts to shame the Carlo Ancelotti bio/business thing. Clough's style would not have been approved by Carlo. But we know who, given the resources at his disposal has achieved more.

Possibly if you're too young to remember him then this biography may be a difficult to understand. for those of us old enough though it's a worthwhile read of a true legend.

It will make you sad. It will make you wistful. It will make you smile as you remember him.

The next ebook is Sister Carrie by Theodore Dreiser.

Until the next time.

Finished Two Books In A Day Including The Worst Football Book I've Ever Read

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

So two books have been finished. The first was Too Late To Turn Back by Barbara Greene. An account of her journey through West Africa in the nineteen thirties with her cousin Graham Greene.

It's an OK book. The author isn't racist towards the native people there although there are moments where she does come across as patronising. To be fair she does appear to acknowledge this in this edition published in the nineteen eighties.

To be honest acceptable though it was I very much doubt I'll remember it in the future. A sort of literary McDonalds.Apart that is as a comparison if I ever read her cousin's account of the same trip Journey Without Maps.

So the next Penguin/Pelican paperback to emerge from the great unread is:

A128 - W G Fearnsides and O M B Bulman  - Geology In The Service Of Man

Yes I know. But when you collect vintage Penguins/Pelicans then this is a consequence.

The blurb describes it as "eminently readable". I doubt that but no stone will be left unturned in finding out.

I've also finished Big Sam the autobiography of Sam Allardyce (with Shaun Custis). In terms of his time in the job the Usain Bolt of ex England managers.

I'd borrowed that book (written before he became Sunderland manager let alone England) to have a laugh in the light of what happened subsequently. Those moments are there but on completion my main question is how a book as badly written as this one got published.

For there are moments when it seems to suggest that Allardyce can barely string words together (which his TV interviews show is not the case). I've mentioned before of a sentence with four "I"s in it. Another example that caught my eye was in describing the Bolton player Hierro "There wasn't a better passer in the Premier League and I include Paul Scholes who was the master". A sentence which if you think about it makes no sense. I did wonder whether an uncredited writer of this book was Google translate.

Even the construction of this book is dire. Chapter five is entitled Stateside With The Rowdies with regard to Allardyce's time with Tampa Bay.and has roughly fourteen pages in it. Just three are actually about the Rowdies. The remaining pages are devoted to other tropical parts of his career in Coventry and Preston.When going through the clubs he's managed suddenly inserted between them is a chapter on his management style. Surely that would have been more suitable towards the end?

And speaking about the stories of the clubs he's managed I have said before that I've some sympathy with him for how the football boards/owners have treated him (although in his last season with West Ham if the second half of that season was as good as the first he could still be Hammers manager today). But these chapters seem less about setting the record straight as settling old scores. In terms of the trials and tribulations of being a manager a far better book is Neil Warnock's The Gaffer (who is,incidentally, now manager of Cardiff City).

So in all respects this is an awful book. However as I mentioned before when taking this out  of Porthcawl library there might be a chance of redemption. For as the lady librarian implied, there are further chapters to be written.

Until the next time.

Of Books Read And To Be Read. And Why I'm Learning Welsh Again

Hello there. Trust you are well.

When chatting to you about the books in my first post I'd forgotten in fact that I was reading three books at the same time. As all these books have now been read reckon I should start with the book I hadn't mentioned which is.....

Danny Baker - Going Off Alarming

Took this with me when visiting my mother on the Mother's Day weekend. On the London Underground it took me from Grosvenor Road to Epping and from Epping to Victoria by chuckle. I've a soft spot for these autobiographies, particularly for its first volume Going To Sea In A Sieve. It evoked a London of my youth as the mayor seems to make the present day capital a land for for Russian Oligarchs to live in. Even if his is South of the Border and mine is of the East.

Of course Iris Murdoch could not be more different from Danny Baker and that it appears includes my reaction to this Penguin Paperback.

Iris Murdoch - The Italian Girl

One thing I will make every effort to do is not to go into great detail about the books I'm reading because I don't want to spoil it for people who want to read it in the future. So let me say this. It was a disappointment having been a fan of The Sea,The Sea. What it was was arty twaddle, For a relatively thin book it was full of unbelievable characters with unbelievable traumas in an unbelievably short space of time. The most I'll say about it is that it was readable...but that was it.

I didn't have high expectations of Neil Warnock's ghost written book The Gaffer. But that didn't matter because this is best described as amiable. Essentially it was billed as an entertaining slice of a manager's life and judged on that basis you did feel cheated. If I had to choose between the Warnock book and the Murdoch one then The Gaffer wins. But both would lose when brought up against either of Danny Baker's autobiographies.

So there are new Penguins and Football books to buy. But I won't be able to do that until later this week so I went to the shelves of the great unread and picked two books. 

This was the first one....

Paul Theroux - The Pillars Of Hercules

As the cover says this is a chronicle of his travels  along the Mediterranean around 1994. I personally find travel books more interesting when read years after the actual trip. The phrase "the test of time" seemingly suited to it. My favourite travel books don't just capture a place but also a mood. That said I must be honest and say that I've never read any of his books in the genre before or indeed any of his novels. Not because of a personal dislike but simply as there as there are so many books and so little time that I've never got round to reading one until now.

Mind you I have read a couple of short story collections with an American consulate official as a central character. They were alright but nothing more (and obviously they did not inspire me to actively get seek out others in his canon). I do remember that the best word to describe these books was "professional" but writing to a reader I'd argue needs to be more than that.

I hadn't actively sought out another football book amongst the shelves of the great unread but it just turned out that this was the book came to my sight next.

Football Dynamo - Marc Bennetts

As (again) the cover explains book (this edition 2008) is about Russia and football written by a British journalist living there. One of my favourite type of books in this genre is one that mixes personal experience with general history. It probably explains why for example my favourite about boxing is In The Red Corner by John Duncan, about the relationship between Cuba and the sport.

Anyway it is I can tell you a fascinating read. How do I know this already? Because I've already started reading it years ago and am halfway through. It was bought many years ago. Remember beginning to read it but then another book demanded my attention beforehand for reasons I can't recall and so it was put back on the shelf (with the bookmark still on the point I left it) to be forgotten. If there was a moment you can go "ahhh" at a book it's now. Not now though (so you can cheer).

Now to completely change the subject I've recently decided to resuscitate learning Welsh. Now before chatting about the present an explanation as to the circumstances as to why I'd learnt the language in the first place is called for. Because it came about by accident.

Many years ago and before we had our daughter my wife had a job which required her to work on Wednesday evenings. At the time I felt at a loose end and decided to attend evening classes on that day. So looked at what was available. I'd wanted car maintenance as my stock move with any problem in that regard is to panic and call the breakdown people/go to a garage. But there were no lessons on that day. There were though lessons in Welsh for beginners.....so it began.

I always say that in a parallel universe there is a version of me proficient in car maintenance. Of course in another parallel universe there is another super me who can speak Welsh and  know his way around a car.

Anyway slowly but surely I started learning yr iaith Cymraeg.Getting to a stage where I passed the equivalent exam in O Level and had only just failed to do the same in the higher level. I found myself regularly watching the Welsh language TV channel S4C and the radio station Radio Cymru and practised the language socially in such occasions as coffee mornings.

However when I lost my job and found it difficult to get a new one I slowly became depressed and found it hard to concentrate on other things including Welsh. I performed disastrously in my second attempt in the exam at the higher level. My heart was not in it so just walked away.

So I was in a sort of linguistic limbo. Nowhere near fluent but a thousand times better than "the cat sat on the mat"

Now I have work, and slowly my mojo is coming back. So I'm returning dysgu Cymraeg. What I know in learning Welsh the first time is that experiences are introduced to you which are absent if you only speak English even if you're living in the country. My wife is from Cardiff and I know that in some respects I know more about this country than she does because I can to an extent speak the language.

What I also know is this. Whatever personal circumstances derailed me from learning Welsh I have always believed that the language has to survive. Because if Welsh was lost then there will be a piece of Wales that would be lost with it.

Perhaps I'm an old romantic...but there you go

I find that I can listen to general programmes on Radio Cymru and watch those on S4C and be able to catch the gist of what's going on which is encouraging. In another time I'll chat about these channels but you're spared today.

So the beginner's books are taken out. The old papers are dusted off and ymlaen.

The mutations are once again to be tackled (and I don't mean the X Men).

Welsh Language Action

I'll chat about how it's going on in future posts.

Until the next time.

In The Beginning Then...A Trip To Porthcawl. A Penguin is Bought And The Gaffer Is Borrowed

So it was a Monday.

The morning essentially begins as it normally does with a cup of tea, my one true drug of choice. Later on I have to get involved in that delicate nature of negotiations that is waking up a teenager for a school day. I've learnt that parenting an adolescent in these is exactly international politics. For if you don't get what you want sanctions are threatened. In my case usually involving the hiding of her Ipad.

The weather has been odd. For the past couple of days people have been complaining of feeling cold even though when I've been doing the early shift the car windows were not frosted up. Today however when I have the day off the windows are frosty. Not that hard but enough for the freewheeling spray of the deicer.

But it was also bright and I decided there and then before I did any promised shopping to the wife I'd go for a little drive to Porthcawl and have a bit of a walk there.

And that's what I did.

Porthcawl is a small seaside town about ten or so minutes drive from where I live. I've always liked it because although it its not without problems (what town isn't?) it has a certain individuality to it. The high street for example has a pleasing mixture of national brands and individual quirky shops. You compare it to Bridgend Town which really is slowly becoming an urban suicide note and you understand the contrast.

The quirky little gem that is Porthcawl Town

Mind you I'm not saying that everything's perfect. Here are relatively modern apartments known as "the bottle bank". I'm not to be honest a fan. If only because of the complete lack of assimilation with the surrounding buildings. It's like wearing an England rugby shirt amongst a group of Welsh fans.

The Bottle Bank:A boil on the face of the town

But, and it's a big but, Porthcawl can produce views that could make you make you think you were in the South of France and not South Wales (of course if you ignore the temperature). Here are a few examples:

Remember this is South Wales

Just takes your breath away

Last one

And the point is this. Wherever you are in Wales you are never far away from an absolutely stunning view. Views that would make you stop and stare. Today these were the views that made me do exactly that.

On an unrelated point I collect Penguin paperbacks for when I was younger they were the publishing house with the widest breath and generally the greatest quality. But only those mind you with their distinctive spines that would make it look good on a bookshelf. I had made a blog about it but boredom made me stop, But now I'm reviving it partly. I'll go and buy one at whatever cost but won't buy another until it has been read.

Well after gazing at the views I went to a the local Tenovus charity shop and bought this in an orange spined edition.

Iris Murdoch - The Italian Girl

I've only read one of her books before as a teenager. Which was rather odd if you consider that The Sea,The Sea is one of my favourite novels of all time. But then, so many books, so little time.

Unfortunately for me I didn't see any football memorabilia in my trip so in terms of footy stuff I went for Plan B today. I'm going to read every football book in every library in the Bridgend area. Now when I say every book I'm not including any "football funnies" type thing. So let's say instead every "proper" football book.

Which leads me to the choice I made in Porthcawl library.

Neil Warnock - The Gaffer

I always liked Neil Warnock, a man that always seemed to represent the classic caricature of a British manager though that's not saying he's without talent. Anyway we'll see what this book is like.

Until the next time.