How good’s your history? Remember anything about the year 1912?
Yeah, that boat sank, but there were lots of other interesting things happening too. Amundsen announced that he was the first person to reach the South Pole. Scott didn’t. Captain Oates announced that he was going out and that he may be some time, and indeed he has been some time, because 106 years later he has yet to come back.
March 1912 saw the first ever parachute jump from a “moving” plane. Now, my aeronautical engineering is a little rusty, but that suggests to me that previous parachutists had been daring enough to jump from about a metre up.
Elsewhere, some bloke flew somewhere non-stop, some woman flew somewhere else non-stop, and in August sodomy was legalised in France.
However, I bet that on this particular footballing weekend, most fans will associate the date with the misfortunes of one of English football’s biggest clubs, Tottenham Hotspur.
Apparently, this season is their worst start to any season since 1912. They have collected only two points from their first seven games, a tally so poor that people are even talking about Derby County in the same breath.
Admittedly, they have already had to play Chelsea, but they have also come up against such supposed relegation fodder as Wigan Athletic, Hull City and the always unpredictable Sunderland. And ironically they actually got a point from the Chelsea game.
HISTORY’S A FUNNY OLD GAME
In that 1912-1913 season that Spurs started so badly, the first division title was won by my team Sunderlandnil (this was a good seventy years before the name change, when they still played under the old name Sunderland), who had been playing glorious football for thirty-odd years.
Sunderland (as was) were so good that they also reached the FA Cup final, where they lost to Aston Villa, thus putting off the first ever league and cup double another half century until the 1960-1961 season when it was finally achieved by … Spurs.
That league title was the fifth in twenty years for Sunderland, and without any shadow of a doubt they would have been in with a shout in any European competition, had such things existed at that time. As it stands though, English football had to wait until 1963 for its first major European trophy, when the European Cup-winners’ Cup was won by … Spurs.
And the FA cup has been a happy hunting ground for Sunderland, with arguably the greatest cupset coming in the 1973 final when Stokoe’s second-division team beat the great Leeds United 1-0. Of course, the second division is a heady height indeed compared to the situation of the 1901 winners, the Southern League outfit Spurs.
It must also be said that when I was a kid growing up, before the (re-)emergence of modern greats like Manchester United and Arsenal, Spurs was THE great cup-winning side. In 1991 they won their eighth FA Cup, a record which stood for a few more years, at least.
WALKING ALONE
1912 also saw a feat achieved which was not to be repeated for another seventy-three years. Towards the end of the previous season (1911-1912) Spurs went to Anfield and won 0-1 with a fifth-minute goal from Tom Mason. They would not win there again until 1985.
The Liverpool-Spurs match had been played on the 16th March 1912, just a month before that incident with the boat, and I clearly remember the emphasis that the television and newspaper journalists placed on the coincidence of the date, talking about how the last time Spurs had beaten Liverpool at Anfield had been before the sinking of the Titanic.
BACK TO THE FUTURE
At the end of that 1912-1913 season, Spurs finished in 17th place (only the bottom two went down in those days), surviving the drop with a total of 42 of our Earth points. Since 1995, the only team to be relegated from the top flight having reached 42 points was West Ham in 2003.
Spurs travel back to Anfield on Saturday 24th May next year – the last day of the season. Will they already have crawled their way up to those 42 points, or will their fate be decided on a pitch that they still rarely win on?
For the sake of Tottenham’s fans, you would hope it was the first option, because if a club as steeped in history as Spurs goes down, it will be a titanic sinking indeed.
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
The pot and the kettle
So that glorious institution, the FA, is going to boycott the Bernabéu. Quite right too. The treatment dished out to more than a handful of England players in 2004 was shocking.
I lived in Spain for 14 years, 13 of them in Madrid. I love the Spanish. With my tongue nowhere near my cheek I can say that some of my best friends are Spanish. I love their way of life, their Devil-may-care attitude and above all their generosity. “Where three can eat, so can four!” they cry as they push a plate towards you. And of course this generosity extends to foreigners.
However, there is no shadow of a doubt that racism is endemic in Spanish sport.
WHITE AS SNOW
Whenever there’s an important match, the old stories get brought out and dusted down for the occasion. The fans hate the English because they stole all of Columbus’ silver, and they call the British “los hijos de la Gran Bretaña”, another way of saying “el hijo de la gran puta”. They hate the French for being stuck up and the Portuguese for being inferior. They hate imperialist Americans and cocky Argentineans and cheating Italians.
But most of all they hate anybody who is not as white as an olive.
They still use expressions containing the word “black” as a pejorative. They continue to call North Africans and Latin Americans names that are offensive to Moroccans and Columbians alike. I could go on forever about how racist the language is. All of this is ironic in a country whose language, architecture and music are heavily influenced by North Africa.
¡VIVA FRANCO!
When I first went there I only knew Real Madrid, but very soon I grew to hate their fascist Ultras Sur supporters, and I switched to where I felt more comfortable. However, even the working class Atlético have their fascist Frente Atlético group, as everybody has seen from the events which have closed down the stadium for the next two Champions’ League games. And Barcelona have the Boixos Nois. And Betis have the Supporters Sur. And so on through every division of Spanish football. It is also ironic that everyone in Spain hates Real Madrid for its fascist fans when every team has their own brand of Ultras.
The radical fans generally wear Spanish fascist symbols, from the era when Franco ruled with a rod of iron. Some of the older ones even sport the pencil moustache worn by “El Caudillo” himself, and the younger ones wear swastikas on armbands and sing Franco’s anthem, even though a lot of them were born ten years or more after his death and have no experience of his regime.
And with alarming regularity the violence of words becomes the violence of actions. In the last few years we have seen the coin thrown at a referee during a Valencia-Deportivo match, and the bottle thrown at Juande Ramos in a Betis-Sevilla, not to mention the tragicomic episode of the crutch in the Ruíz de Lopera in Seville.
WHO, ME?
Perhaps the worst aspect of this racism is the fact that they are completely oblivious to it all. When Aragonés insulted Thierry Henry just before that friendly, the Spanish Federation declared that “there was no hint of racism in his words”. Finally, after huge pressure from both UEFA and FIFA (so I believe), they shook their heads in disbelief and fined the man a mere 3,000 euros for “an act against the decorum of football”. This, of course, sent a clear message to the fans.
And it isn’t just the football. When the entire Spanish Olympic basketball squad posed in full kit mimicking the eyes of oriental people, there was worldwide uproar, but the incident was laughed off in Spain as “just a joke”. That comment was the end of the incident as far as the Spanish sporting press was concerned. They really couldn’t understand the fuss.
LET’S TEACH THEM A LESSON
So it’s lucky that so many Spanish players and coaches are now in England. Perhaps they will observe more moderate ways and import them back into Spain.
Or perhaps not.
Perhaps they will just learn how the English hate the French, Germans and Argentineans. Maybe they will just learn the art of the tabloid headline, using irrelevant and archaic contexts to fuel racial hatred before certain international fixtures. Or they will see how the young Irish trainees at Plymouth Argyle were all called “Paddy” in an unintelligent attempt to make them feel like they belonged. Indeed they could hear the terrace taunts against Sol Campbell (which the FA did nothing about) or the hissing of the gas chambers at White Hart Lane. Maybe they will see how in English books and films the “paddy” is always the thick, drunken man with his fists in the air, or how the “jock” is the incomprehensible, tight-fisted redneck, or how the “taffy” is the dirty, uncultured farmer who lusts after his own livestock.
Or is that all “just a joke” too?
Do you think they found it funny in Marseille, and in Charleroi, and in Stuttgart, Bratislava and the Algarve when the hooliganism which has come to be synonymous with the English once more ruined a decent tournament? Do you think anybody laughed at the images of that poor Turkish man who found himself in the middle of a crowd of some five thousand baying hooligans in a normally peaceful German square?
Just watch any La Liga match and look at the banners with bulldogs on them and slogans in English, and ask yourself which nation provides the role models for hooligans.
That’s the problem with racists – they can never see the mote in their own eye.
I lived in Spain for 14 years, 13 of them in Madrid. I love the Spanish. With my tongue nowhere near my cheek I can say that some of my best friends are Spanish. I love their way of life, their Devil-may-care attitude and above all their generosity. “Where three can eat, so can four!” they cry as they push a plate towards you. And of course this generosity extends to foreigners.
However, there is no shadow of a doubt that racism is endemic in Spanish sport.
WHITE AS SNOW
Whenever there’s an important match, the old stories get brought out and dusted down for the occasion. The fans hate the English because they stole all of Columbus’ silver, and they call the British “los hijos de la Gran Bretaña”, another way of saying “el hijo de la gran puta”. They hate the French for being stuck up and the Portuguese for being inferior. They hate imperialist Americans and cocky Argentineans and cheating Italians.
But most of all they hate anybody who is not as white as an olive.
They still use expressions containing the word “black” as a pejorative. They continue to call North Africans and Latin Americans names that are offensive to Moroccans and Columbians alike. I could go on forever about how racist the language is. All of this is ironic in a country whose language, architecture and music are heavily influenced by North Africa.
¡VIVA FRANCO!
When I first went there I only knew Real Madrid, but very soon I grew to hate their fascist Ultras Sur supporters, and I switched to where I felt more comfortable. However, even the working class Atlético have their fascist Frente Atlético group, as everybody has seen from the events which have closed down the stadium for the next two Champions’ League games. And Barcelona have the Boixos Nois. And Betis have the Supporters Sur. And so on through every division of Spanish football. It is also ironic that everyone in Spain hates Real Madrid for its fascist fans when every team has their own brand of Ultras.
The radical fans generally wear Spanish fascist symbols, from the era when Franco ruled with a rod of iron. Some of the older ones even sport the pencil moustache worn by “El Caudillo” himself, and the younger ones wear swastikas on armbands and sing Franco’s anthem, even though a lot of them were born ten years or more after his death and have no experience of his regime.
And with alarming regularity the violence of words becomes the violence of actions. In the last few years we have seen the coin thrown at a referee during a Valencia-Deportivo match, and the bottle thrown at Juande Ramos in a Betis-Sevilla, not to mention the tragicomic episode of the crutch in the Ruíz de Lopera in Seville.
WHO, ME?
Perhaps the worst aspect of this racism is the fact that they are completely oblivious to it all. When Aragonés insulted Thierry Henry just before that friendly, the Spanish Federation declared that “there was no hint of racism in his words”. Finally, after huge pressure from both UEFA and FIFA (so I believe), they shook their heads in disbelief and fined the man a mere 3,000 euros for “an act against the decorum of football”. This, of course, sent a clear message to the fans.
And it isn’t just the football. When the entire Spanish Olympic basketball squad posed in full kit mimicking the eyes of oriental people, there was worldwide uproar, but the incident was laughed off in Spain as “just a joke”. That comment was the end of the incident as far as the Spanish sporting press was concerned. They really couldn’t understand the fuss.
LET’S TEACH THEM A LESSON
So it’s lucky that so many Spanish players and coaches are now in England. Perhaps they will observe more moderate ways and import them back into Spain.
Or perhaps not.
Perhaps they will just learn how the English hate the French, Germans and Argentineans. Maybe they will just learn the art of the tabloid headline, using irrelevant and archaic contexts to fuel racial hatred before certain international fixtures. Or they will see how the young Irish trainees at Plymouth Argyle were all called “Paddy” in an unintelligent attempt to make them feel like they belonged. Indeed they could hear the terrace taunts against Sol Campbell (which the FA did nothing about) or the hissing of the gas chambers at White Hart Lane. Maybe they will see how in English books and films the “paddy” is always the thick, drunken man with his fists in the air, or how the “jock” is the incomprehensible, tight-fisted redneck, or how the “taffy” is the dirty, uncultured farmer who lusts after his own livestock.
Or is that all “just a joke” too?
Do you think they found it funny in Marseille, and in Charleroi, and in Stuttgart, Bratislava and the Algarve when the hooliganism which has come to be synonymous with the English once more ruined a decent tournament? Do you think anybody laughed at the images of that poor Turkish man who found himself in the middle of a crowd of some five thousand baying hooligans in a normally peaceful German square?
Just watch any La Liga match and look at the banners with bulldogs on them and slogans in English, and ask yourself which nation provides the role models for hooligans.
That’s the problem with racists – they can never see the mote in their own eye.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Can we not cheer any more, either?
When I lived in Spain I was a season ticket-holder at Atlético de Madrid. The club is famous for its passionate fans, and the Vicente Calderón is widely regarded as having the best atmosphere in La Liga. However, the fans did have one annoying habit – they booed everybody and everything. They booed Torres for always falling over, Raúl for switching allegiance, and referee Díaz Vega just for being alive.
I made a conscious decision in my first match there not to join in the booing. I refused to be negative or jeer people who had more skill than me. I found it contrary to the spirit of the game. Who am I to boo anybody?
Yet during the England-Kazakhstan game, when the fans booed Ashley Cole, I didn’t notice. In fact it didn’t even impinge on my consciousness until the commentator started going on and on about the incident. I was more annoyed by his chuntering than the booing itself.
I was also following the game on live text, and to my amazement – and intense disappointment – the popular journalist in charge of the feed became the new Mary Whitehouse with more shocked hyperbole and a holier-than-thou tone.
So I had to ask myself, why am I more irritated about the reaction than about the incident itself?
WHO ARE YA?
The fans have been badly treated of late. In 2000, 2002 and 2004 England limped out of international competitions. In 2006 a pathetic showing at the World Cup was followed by offensive attempts to grab more cash by publishing mediocre autobiographies, a trend which has continued unchecked to the point where Jamie Carragher has published a book in which he admits what the rest don’t have the guts to – that country is secondary to club. Then England failed to qualify for Euro 2008 because the players (Beckham aside) couldn’t be bothered.
At the start of qualifying last month England scraped past Andorra. And now against an under-21 side hastily cobbled together from debutants and mid-table clubs, England need a foul on the keeper and an own goal to get started.
The spark shown against Croatia was apparently just to tease the fans. They are understandably frustrated.
STICKS AND STONES
The English are treated with disdain in Europe for many reasons – historical enmity, tabloid excess and the behaviour of drunken holiday-makers spring to mind. Yet perhaps the most obvious reason is the behaviour of the “fans” who follow England. Marseille 1998, Charleroi 2000, Bratislava 2002, Albufeira 2004, Stuttgart 2006, the list is endless.
At home monkey chanting and other racist taunts at West Ham, Spurs, Gillingham and Swansea have been allowed to develop into the shocking recent treatment of Sol Cambell.
Some would say it’s only the minority. By the same token, only the minority was booing Cole. And the point is, they didn’t attack anybody, make racist comments or demand to see him hanging from a tree. They just booed. Infinitely preferable to violence.
SUPERIORITY COMPLEX
We mustn’t forget that England fans have high expectations, although those expectations are grossly out of proportion to any evidence of greatness. England have won nothing since a referee-assisted World Cup over 40 years ago. Blind faith, fair enough, but the delusional idolatry of such obviously mediocre players as Gerrard, Barry, Lampard and Cole – watch the Kazakhstan game again, then compare to the Spanish Euro champions – is staggering in the extreme. Who do the fans think they’re kidding? In that sense I agree the booing was moronic in that it stems from expecting dressage from a donkey. But don’t discourage them from seeing the truth. Of course, they shouldn’t boo. They should just vote with their feet.
“JUST ONE MISTAKE - HE DIDN'T MEAN TO DO IT”
This is how many fans and journalists reacted. Funny that, it was different when Rob Stiles made just one mistake, with much less at stake too. Sorry, I forgot, there’s more cash involved in the Premier League.
SHOW ME THE MONEY!
Yes, you were wondering when this topic would rear its ugly head! Two hours after the England game had finished the Slovenian defender Komac made just one mistake and nearly gifted the unlucky Irish a goal. On the live text I was following, in a remarkable demonstration of tenacity (or is it just the inability to get over it?), we were asked if he would be booed too. Let’s see. Is Komac an arrogant, pampered millionaire whose behaviour shows a lack of respect for fans? Is he a person who shows nothing but disdain for his shirt and consequently for the fans and their meagre salaries? Then I imagine he will have been booed.
THE OTHER SIDE OF THE COIN
Much has also been made of the reaction shown when Beckham appeared, but instead of lauding the fans’ ability to quickly temper criticism with praise, the fans have been called fickle. Beckham is a player whose contribution has been demonstrated time and again – take Croatia last November. Cole isn’t.
If they’d only booed, then criticise. But booing and cheering are two sides of the same coin – it’s how you make your anonymous, disregarded (by the FA) feelings known in a big stadium.
SILENCE, PLEASE
There have been many recent articles on complaints about the restrictions placed on fans by the stewards in modern stadia, and many fans are demanding a return to terraces. There have also been articles, most noticeably this month in a leading British football magazine, about those who have just given up and now go abroad for their footballing kicks, because here you can’t drink, smoke, stand or shout.
And now you can’t boo.
Pretty soon you won’t even be able to cheer, either.
I made a conscious decision in my first match there not to join in the booing. I refused to be negative or jeer people who had more skill than me. I found it contrary to the spirit of the game. Who am I to boo anybody?
Yet during the England-Kazakhstan game, when the fans booed Ashley Cole, I didn’t notice. In fact it didn’t even impinge on my consciousness until the commentator started going on and on about the incident. I was more annoyed by his chuntering than the booing itself.
I was also following the game on live text, and to my amazement – and intense disappointment – the popular journalist in charge of the feed became the new Mary Whitehouse with more shocked hyperbole and a holier-than-thou tone.
So I had to ask myself, why am I more irritated about the reaction than about the incident itself?
WHO ARE YA?
The fans have been badly treated of late. In 2000, 2002 and 2004 England limped out of international competitions. In 2006 a pathetic showing at the World Cup was followed by offensive attempts to grab more cash by publishing mediocre autobiographies, a trend which has continued unchecked to the point where Jamie Carragher has published a book in which he admits what the rest don’t have the guts to – that country is secondary to club. Then England failed to qualify for Euro 2008 because the players (Beckham aside) couldn’t be bothered.
At the start of qualifying last month England scraped past Andorra. And now against an under-21 side hastily cobbled together from debutants and mid-table clubs, England need a foul on the keeper and an own goal to get started.
The spark shown against Croatia was apparently just to tease the fans. They are understandably frustrated.
STICKS AND STONES
The English are treated with disdain in Europe for many reasons – historical enmity, tabloid excess and the behaviour of drunken holiday-makers spring to mind. Yet perhaps the most obvious reason is the behaviour of the “fans” who follow England. Marseille 1998, Charleroi 2000, Bratislava 2002, Albufeira 2004, Stuttgart 2006, the list is endless.
At home monkey chanting and other racist taunts at West Ham, Spurs, Gillingham and Swansea have been allowed to develop into the shocking recent treatment of Sol Cambell.
Some would say it’s only the minority. By the same token, only the minority was booing Cole. And the point is, they didn’t attack anybody, make racist comments or demand to see him hanging from a tree. They just booed. Infinitely preferable to violence.
SUPERIORITY COMPLEX
We mustn’t forget that England fans have high expectations, although those expectations are grossly out of proportion to any evidence of greatness. England have won nothing since a referee-assisted World Cup over 40 years ago. Blind faith, fair enough, but the delusional idolatry of such obviously mediocre players as Gerrard, Barry, Lampard and Cole – watch the Kazakhstan game again, then compare to the Spanish Euro champions – is staggering in the extreme. Who do the fans think they’re kidding? In that sense I agree the booing was moronic in that it stems from expecting dressage from a donkey. But don’t discourage them from seeing the truth. Of course, they shouldn’t boo. They should just vote with their feet.
“JUST ONE MISTAKE - HE DIDN'T MEAN TO DO IT”
This is how many fans and journalists reacted. Funny that, it was different when Rob Stiles made just one mistake, with much less at stake too. Sorry, I forgot, there’s more cash involved in the Premier League.
SHOW ME THE MONEY!
Yes, you were wondering when this topic would rear its ugly head! Two hours after the England game had finished the Slovenian defender Komac made just one mistake and nearly gifted the unlucky Irish a goal. On the live text I was following, in a remarkable demonstration of tenacity (or is it just the inability to get over it?), we were asked if he would be booed too. Let’s see. Is Komac an arrogant, pampered millionaire whose behaviour shows a lack of respect for fans? Is he a person who shows nothing but disdain for his shirt and consequently for the fans and their meagre salaries? Then I imagine he will have been booed.
THE OTHER SIDE OF THE COIN
Much has also been made of the reaction shown when Beckham appeared, but instead of lauding the fans’ ability to quickly temper criticism with praise, the fans have been called fickle. Beckham is a player whose contribution has been demonstrated time and again – take Croatia last November. Cole isn’t.
If they’d only booed, then criticise. But booing and cheering are two sides of the same coin – it’s how you make your anonymous, disregarded (by the FA) feelings known in a big stadium.
SILENCE, PLEASE
There have been many recent articles on complaints about the restrictions placed on fans by the stewards in modern stadia, and many fans are demanding a return to terraces. There have also been articles, most noticeably this month in a leading British football magazine, about those who have just given up and now go abroad for their footballing kicks, because here you can’t drink, smoke, stand or shout.
And now you can’t boo.
Pretty soon you won’t even be able to cheer, either.
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