Despite being in Edinburgh, whenever I've not been in a show (and sometimes when I have), I've been plugged into Test Match Special. This Ashes series is everything a clash of titans should be and is utterly compelling. However on exiting a show at 4:40 yesterday afternoon and noticing we were 50-odd for 2 chasing 129, I felt I should find myself a pub to watch us stroll to victory on the telly. By the time I reached the pub we were 4 wickets down, but with Flintoff and Pietersen at the wicket, all seemed fairly well.
Found myself a quiet stool in the Royal Mile hostelry (on the Royal Mile, as you might expect), and sat back to take in the next couple of hours of high drama. I guess it was not so much a case of England making the victory hard for ourselves, but that our opponents are not half bad, with a twirly genius in the ranks. Lee has been no slouch either, the first ball of his second spell doing for KP wafting outside off-stump. He then got one to swing in to Flintoff, sending the bails flying having sailed through a wide gate. Then with Geraint Jones out trying to take the initiative swiping Warne supposedly for 6, but instead into the hands of Kasprrrowicz, 13 were still needed with only the tail left.
I had a ticket for a show at 6 but that soon found itself ripped up in an ashtray as there was no way I could tear myself away from it. The prospect of England taking a 2-1 lead with 1 to play is very very big news indeed, particularly in a tight and tense situation as this. How immense have these past 3 Tests been?
By this point, my chair was surrounded by folks staring up at the telly, all of us sharing of anxiety vocally and nearly to the point of biting each other's nails. One guy starts rabbiting on about his life story, but soon realises as I stare intently at the screen that I ain't fackin interested just now.
As it is Ashley Giles's unprentious presence and Hoggard's resiliance won the day, a huge cheer and even a round of applause enveloping those in the Royal Mile. Great days indeed, from watching the Edgabaston arse-squeak in a chalet prior to my best friend's wedding to witnessing the Old Trafford draw live to being here wrapped up in a TV screen with people who have been like old mates for an hour, it has been a privilidge to watch and listen to it. Me and the folks in the Royal Mile, we were there for each other yesterday, and to experience what could well be the ultimate in cricketing terms considering recent history.
Perhaps come the end of the Oval Test we may rue not taking that final wicket at Old Trafford as the Ashes would be won by now if we had, but I don't fear that final test. I think our team is more than good enough to pass it. Hope Simon Jones is fit for it though as he as been a revelation this summer, thank god considering Harmison blowing hot and cold and Hoggy being slightly short of rhythm.
But Hoggy though, you won't find me criticising him today. As I left the Royal Mile, I switched back into TMS and heard the King of Spain say to Jim Maxwell that Hoggy's immense drive through extra cover for 4 would live with him forever.
You are not the only one Asher G, you are not the only one.
Monday, 29 August 2005
Tuesday, 23 August 2005
St. Mirren 0 Stranraer 0
13aug05
Scottish League Division One
Love Street, Paisley
att. 2,614
In and around Paisley of a matchday early afternoon, Rangers and Celtic shirts powerfully outnumber the one or two St. Mirren shirts in the town centre. This is perhaps unsurprising considering the duocracy at the tip of Scottish football. After being a firm fixture in the Scottish Premier in the late 70’s and 80’s, there has only been one brief peep over the top-flight parapet (in 2000/01) since relegation in 1992. Being just down the road from Glasgow means the big two do not have to extend their reach far to sweep up the success starved.
Despite being at the Western extreme of the ever burgeoning Glasgow conurbation, Paisley certainly appears to have a separate identity and while the city is often associated with some of Scotland’s less agreeable attributes, Paisley stands as a symbol of old romanticism to the Scottish working class. It is a pretty town in parts, a glorious garden by the river housing a number of statue tributes to local heroes as well as to the ubiquitous Queen Vicky. Perhaps the less vehement devoluters reside in this part of Scotland.
The high street banners proclaiming Paisley a ‘Fair Trade Town’ suggest modern thinking, while the Plaza shopping centre’s piping of 30’s big band muzak rather than local-radio style semi-advertising blather indicates that it’s not all new school round here. It is a town in transition, allowing regeneration without the marginalization of their more senior citizens.
It seems history is important here, but perhaps not when applied to choosing your club, as St. Mirren stand equal with Rangers and Celtic on that score. All 3 were part of the original 10 founding Scottish League sides of 1890/91, along with not only Dumbarton and Hearts but Third Lanark, Cowlairs, Abercorn, Cambuslang and Vale Of Leven. The very least you can say of St. Mirren is that, despite everything, they have shown staying power.
Of late that power has been severely tested with long term debts and dwindling attendances crippling the club almost to the point of liquidation. The only alternatives had been to consider leaving Paisley after 128 years, or to sell their Love Street home to a supermarket chain and build a new facility in Greenhill Road, less than a mile away. Despite delaying their decision twice, the Scottish Executive recently decided not to call in the plans for re-examination after Renfrewshire councillors had voted against a recommendation that the planning application be turned down. The club should now be able to move forward, and also be the catalyst for regeneration in the northern end of Paisley.
For all their debt problems, they do appear to have tried to make some money back by issuing a myriad of differing kits. As I near the ground and the amount of Saints shirts gradually increase, each one appears to be a slightly altered pattern. Unless the fans have phoned round to co-ordinate their early season party dresses, it does seem that they’ve got through a fair number in the last few years as none look particularly faded or of quasi-classic 80’s what-we’re-we-thinking design.
Also several bits of Love Street do seem quite new. While there are two corners that still feature crumbling, ramshackle and useless terracing, in-between the Reid Kerr College Family Stand was bolted on prior to their last Premier League season so they could comply with the 10,000 all-seater rule which has thankfully now been relaxed. Opposite that is the Caledonia West Stand which also seems quite ambitious. It holds up to 3,000 away fans but, needless to say, is rarely filled. Around 80 Stranraer followers attempt to look mobbed-up in it today.
Between these the Main Stand looks quite antiquated indeed, but it’ll be the more traditional features like this that will make leaving Love Street such an emotional bind. There are certainly reasons not to miss the place though, particularly the area in front of the North Bank tea-bar which in rather self-defeating manner smells aggressively of sick.
Furthermore one must wonder about the self-esteem of a town and its team when the imminent arrival of the players on the field is greeted not by ‘Fanfare For The Common Man’ or ‘Ready To Go’, but ‘Duelling Banjos’. ‘Tom Hark’ soon follows as they appear, but the free association reveals plenty. You can probably blame the money issues for The Coral’s ‘Dreaming Of You’ being aired twice, but a run out for ‘The Vengabus’ defies explanation.
Despite their problems, both fiscal and in the music selection policy, St. Mirren do fit in more with the ‘haves’ of the Scottish First Division, such as St. Johnstone and Dundee, those who can look upwards and reasonably dream of the Premier League. Stranraer are one of those sides who are realistically at the limits of their ambition, only twice before appearing in the second tier of Scottish football since it went to 3 divisions in 1975 (and 4 in ‘94), finishing rock bottom on both occasions. As such they are seen by most First Division supporters as cannon fodder for this coming campaign.
However Stranraer, while looking incapable of anything genuinely creative, don’t see it this way, stoically resisting all that St. Mirren can throw at them. Although in fairness, for all their dominance, the Saints don’t cause too much bother in front of goal respective to their possession. It remains this way for pretty much the entire game, Stranraer feeding off the scraps and breaking away on occasion. The combination of Stranraer’s dogged, hassling defence and St. Mirren’s lack of imagination mean that by the 80th minute the home fans begin to get overtly restless. At this stage, if not from minute 1, Stranraer look more than happy to settle for a scoreless draw, their keeper Barry John Corr getting booked for time wasting as the final whistle approaches.
In the last ten both sides squander chances to steal it, but 0-0 it remains, the final whistle being greeted by a chorus of boos from the home support. Judging by today, you imagine some of the supporters may wish to list some of the players as fixtures and fittings that will not be needed at the new stadium. Stranraer fans will probably wonder if this is what it’s going to be like all year. It certainly won’t be a season of elegance and sophisticated play.
Scottish League Division One
Love Street, Paisley
att. 2,614
In and around Paisley of a matchday early afternoon, Rangers and Celtic shirts powerfully outnumber the one or two St. Mirren shirts in the town centre. This is perhaps unsurprising considering the duocracy at the tip of Scottish football. After being a firm fixture in the Scottish Premier in the late 70’s and 80’s, there has only been one brief peep over the top-flight parapet (in 2000/01) since relegation in 1992. Being just down the road from Glasgow means the big two do not have to extend their reach far to sweep up the success starved.
Despite being at the Western extreme of the ever burgeoning Glasgow conurbation, Paisley certainly appears to have a separate identity and while the city is often associated with some of Scotland’s less agreeable attributes, Paisley stands as a symbol of old romanticism to the Scottish working class. It is a pretty town in parts, a glorious garden by the river housing a number of statue tributes to local heroes as well as to the ubiquitous Queen Vicky. Perhaps the less vehement devoluters reside in this part of Scotland.
The high street banners proclaiming Paisley a ‘Fair Trade Town’ suggest modern thinking, while the Plaza shopping centre’s piping of 30’s big band muzak rather than local-radio style semi-advertising blather indicates that it’s not all new school round here. It is a town in transition, allowing regeneration without the marginalization of their more senior citizens.
It seems history is important here, but perhaps not when applied to choosing your club, as St. Mirren stand equal with Rangers and Celtic on that score. All 3 were part of the original 10 founding Scottish League sides of 1890/91, along with not only Dumbarton and Hearts but Third Lanark, Cowlairs, Abercorn, Cambuslang and Vale Of Leven. The very least you can say of St. Mirren is that, despite everything, they have shown staying power.
Of late that power has been severely tested with long term debts and dwindling attendances crippling the club almost to the point of liquidation. The only alternatives had been to consider leaving Paisley after 128 years, or to sell their Love Street home to a supermarket chain and build a new facility in Greenhill Road, less than a mile away. Despite delaying their decision twice, the Scottish Executive recently decided not to call in the plans for re-examination after Renfrewshire councillors had voted against a recommendation that the planning application be turned down. The club should now be able to move forward, and also be the catalyst for regeneration in the northern end of Paisley.
For all their debt problems, they do appear to have tried to make some money back by issuing a myriad of differing kits. As I near the ground and the amount of Saints shirts gradually increase, each one appears to be a slightly altered pattern. Unless the fans have phoned round to co-ordinate their early season party dresses, it does seem that they’ve got through a fair number in the last few years as none look particularly faded or of quasi-classic 80’s what-we’re-we-thinking design.
Also several bits of Love Street do seem quite new. While there are two corners that still feature crumbling, ramshackle and useless terracing, in-between the Reid Kerr College Family Stand was bolted on prior to their last Premier League season so they could comply with the 10,000 all-seater rule which has thankfully now been relaxed. Opposite that is the Caledonia West Stand which also seems quite ambitious. It holds up to 3,000 away fans but, needless to say, is rarely filled. Around 80 Stranraer followers attempt to look mobbed-up in it today.
Between these the Main Stand looks quite antiquated indeed, but it’ll be the more traditional features like this that will make leaving Love Street such an emotional bind. There are certainly reasons not to miss the place though, particularly the area in front of the North Bank tea-bar which in rather self-defeating manner smells aggressively of sick.
Furthermore one must wonder about the self-esteem of a town and its team when the imminent arrival of the players on the field is greeted not by ‘Fanfare For The Common Man’ or ‘Ready To Go’, but ‘Duelling Banjos’. ‘Tom Hark’ soon follows as they appear, but the free association reveals plenty. You can probably blame the money issues for The Coral’s ‘Dreaming Of You’ being aired twice, but a run out for ‘The Vengabus’ defies explanation.
Despite their problems, both fiscal and in the music selection policy, St. Mirren do fit in more with the ‘haves’ of the Scottish First Division, such as St. Johnstone and Dundee, those who can look upwards and reasonably dream of the Premier League. Stranraer are one of those sides who are realistically at the limits of their ambition, only twice before appearing in the second tier of Scottish football since it went to 3 divisions in 1975 (and 4 in ‘94), finishing rock bottom on both occasions. As such they are seen by most First Division supporters as cannon fodder for this coming campaign.
However Stranraer, while looking incapable of anything genuinely creative, don’t see it this way, stoically resisting all that St. Mirren can throw at them. Although in fairness, for all their dominance, the Saints don’t cause too much bother in front of goal respective to their possession. It remains this way for pretty much the entire game, Stranraer feeding off the scraps and breaking away on occasion. The combination of Stranraer’s dogged, hassling defence and St. Mirren’s lack of imagination mean that by the 80th minute the home fans begin to get overtly restless. At this stage, if not from minute 1, Stranraer look more than happy to settle for a scoreless draw, their keeper Barry John Corr getting booked for time wasting as the final whistle approaches.
In the last ten both sides squander chances to steal it, but 0-0 it remains, the final whistle being greeted by a chorus of boos from the home support. Judging by today, you imagine some of the supporters may wish to list some of the players as fixtures and fittings that will not be needed at the new stadium. Stranraer fans will probably wonder if this is what it’s going to be like all year. It certainly won’t be a season of elegance and sophisticated play.
Wednesday, 17 August 2005
East Stirlingshire 1 Queen's Park 3
09aug05
CIS Insurance Scottish League Cup 1st Round
Firs Park, Falkirk
att. 234
East Stirling are a little miffed just now. Despite eschewing media advances to cover their notorious lack of on-field success in the past, they accepted £2000 a year ago for an author to follow their 2004/05 campaign. The book, published this week, is not as wholly kind to them as they would like. It is called ‘Pointless’, which seems a little unfair considering they managed 22 points last season. Indeed, credit where credit is due, this was one more point than they had accumulated over the previous two seasons put together.
East Stirlingshire then, the missing answer every time when the question ‘which 5 Scottish league sides begin and end with the same letter’ gets posed. East Fife, Celtic, Kilmarnock and Dundee United aren’t so tricksy with any scant and subtle abbreviation. You might know them as East Stirling, and you may also be aware that they have been rooted to the bottom of Scottish Division 3 for 3 seasons now. However, with no obvious accession to the pools coupon for Scottish non-league sides (aside from the occasional restructure, or indeed a liquidation for Airdrieonians) and no relegation beyond the 3rd, they have gone precisely nowhere.
They are as close to amateur as the semi-pro end of the Scottish Leagues get, reportedly paying their players a mere crisp tenner for each game, and it is perhaps for this reason that they only played one pre-season friendly, against Kirkintilloch Rob Roy, prior to a daunting season opener away in the Bells Cup to Dundee.
The £10 wage may seem quite democratic and a hark back to the old days of football, but when you consider Stevenage Borough at level 5 in England are reported to be paying one player £1200 a week with free accommodation and a car, you can see just how breadline they are.
Indeed, the fact that Gretna and Peterhead (both fairly recent entrants to the Scottish leagues courtesy the windows of opportunity I mentioned earlier) could be promoted from the division last year with a 27 point gap between them and the rest (and twenty further points between each other) cement the idea of a big divide between the haves and have-nots in Scotland. You could argue it’s 2 of the former and 38 of the latter, but Hearts do seem to have some cash to splash, as does Gretna’s sugar daddy.
Even Queens Park, tonight’s opponents, are certainly not a major player in the Scottish leagues, but they still get to run out at Hampden Park every other week, even if it is only 1% full for their home games. East Stirlingshire call Firs Park home, and it’s particularly earthy, with one end a sheet wall of concrete, the opposite end an overgrown terrace unusable except as an access path to the neat little main stand, which sits opposite a decent stretch of covered terracing.
The pitch is, according to the SFA, too short for a professional licence, although the club are being given time to sort it out. Major work is something this club can clearly not afford, but there has been talk of a move to Grangemouth Athletics Stadium and even a name change to Grangemouth to suit. Considering an East Stirlingshire side have competed in the Scottish League since 1900/01, this would be a major step, but in fairness their fan base probably isn’t big enough for there to be too much grumbling about tradition.
They also suffer from being Falkirk’s second team, with their bigger cousins newly acceded to the Premier League. Falkirk’s old ground, Brockville, used to be a stone’s throw away from Firs Park but that is now a gleaming Morrisons and Falkirk play on the outskirts of town in a brand new stadium dominated by a handsome and huge main stand.
This development does though allow East Stirlingshire’s PA announcer to come out with a pearler of a line in his spiel: “There’s only one team in Falkirk [comedy pause] town centre”. It is pretty much the only line you can discern though as his brogue wraps around a scattergun of words that fire out with something near to an intake of breath once every 8 minutes. He clearly has a lot to monologue about and little time to do it. Shame then that I understand little of it, apart from some choice comments on the ‘Pointless’ book, and the phrase “Be part of the Shire in-crowd”. I imagine there’s not much of an out-crowd in truth, an exclusive club of masochists and the sympathetic certainly. However thanks to their so-bad-it’s-good notoriety, they are able to wear Littlewoods Pools only ever team sponsorship across their midriff, which probably helps in their quest for player-appeasing tenners.
It is perhaps a much better deal than for the Queens Park side who are sponsored by Irn-Bru and all decked out handsomely in blue and orange away shirts seemingly so as to resemble a can of the stuff. However, the officials seem intent on winning the pre-match fancy dress going, as they do, for the cyberpunk bicycle courier look. An opportunity for a quick thinking steward with access to a flag, and possibly a cosh, to cause potential match-winning confusion. Sadly this opportunity goes untaken.
Despite early East Stirlingshire pressure, it is Queens Park who look the far more assured and just sit back waiting for their opportunity. It comes regularly, and is capitalised upon 3 times in the first half. As the second hits the back of the net, one local woman behind the goal turns to another and says “this is shite, eh?”. You’d think by now they’d be used to it.
However the Shire then rally and cause their keeper to make a great full length save while also bulleting a gilt-edged headed chance over the bar. Nevertheless on the stroke of half-time, a free-kick 28 yards out is curled in calmly and deliciously by Paul Harvey. It is the penultimate kick of the half. During his half-time verbal sluice, our man with the mic reminds us that tonight could go to extra time and penalties, “it might do…wait and see”. You can’t knock wide-eyed optimism like that.
Two minutes after a shot is blocked on the line, East Stirlingshire finally get on the score sheet courtesy Iain Diack, and our man on the tannoy’s message could not, unexpectedly, be clearer. “Game on!” he says, as though having never before been to Firs Park.
The comparatively numerate away throng are all too aware though that their passage into the next round of the CIS cup is assured, particularly when the Shire’s Stephen Blair is tunnelled for a second bookable after 75 minutes. Despite an official nickname of ‘The Spiders’, they appear to sing ‘Come on you Queens’ by way of celebration. Coming from a bunch of Glaswegians, this is progress indeed.
Road to Hampden
F: Dunfermline Athletic 0 Celtic 3 (att. 50.090)
SF: Dunfermline Athletic 1 Livingston 0 (att. 4,630)
4R: Livingston 2 Inverness Caledonian Thistle 1 aet (att. 1,531)
3R: Livingston 1 Heart of Midlothian 0 (att. 3,805)
2R: Queens Park 0 Heart of Midlothian 2 (att. 2,429)
1R: East Stirlingshire 1 Queens Park 3
CIS Insurance Scottish League Cup 1st Round
Firs Park, Falkirk
att. 234
East Stirling are a little miffed just now. Despite eschewing media advances to cover their notorious lack of on-field success in the past, they accepted £2000 a year ago for an author to follow their 2004/05 campaign. The book, published this week, is not as wholly kind to them as they would like. It is called ‘Pointless’, which seems a little unfair considering they managed 22 points last season. Indeed, credit where credit is due, this was one more point than they had accumulated over the previous two seasons put together.
East Stirlingshire then, the missing answer every time when the question ‘which 5 Scottish league sides begin and end with the same letter’ gets posed. East Fife, Celtic, Kilmarnock and Dundee United aren’t so tricksy with any scant and subtle abbreviation. You might know them as East Stirling, and you may also be aware that they have been rooted to the bottom of Scottish Division 3 for 3 seasons now. However, with no obvious accession to the pools coupon for Scottish non-league sides (aside from the occasional restructure, or indeed a liquidation for Airdrieonians) and no relegation beyond the 3rd, they have gone precisely nowhere.
They are as close to amateur as the semi-pro end of the Scottish Leagues get, reportedly paying their players a mere crisp tenner for each game, and it is perhaps for this reason that they only played one pre-season friendly, against Kirkintilloch Rob Roy, prior to a daunting season opener away in the Bells Cup to Dundee.
The £10 wage may seem quite democratic and a hark back to the old days of football, but when you consider Stevenage Borough at level 5 in England are reported to be paying one player £1200 a week with free accommodation and a car, you can see just how breadline they are.
Indeed, the fact that Gretna and Peterhead (both fairly recent entrants to the Scottish leagues courtesy the windows of opportunity I mentioned earlier) could be promoted from the division last year with a 27 point gap between them and the rest (and twenty further points between each other) cement the idea of a big divide between the haves and have-nots in Scotland. You could argue it’s 2 of the former and 38 of the latter, but Hearts do seem to have some cash to splash, as does Gretna’s sugar daddy.
Even Queens Park, tonight’s opponents, are certainly not a major player in the Scottish leagues, but they still get to run out at Hampden Park every other week, even if it is only 1% full for their home games. East Stirlingshire call Firs Park home, and it’s particularly earthy, with one end a sheet wall of concrete, the opposite end an overgrown terrace unusable except as an access path to the neat little main stand, which sits opposite a decent stretch of covered terracing.
The pitch is, according to the SFA, too short for a professional licence, although the club are being given time to sort it out. Major work is something this club can clearly not afford, but there has been talk of a move to Grangemouth Athletics Stadium and even a name change to Grangemouth to suit. Considering an East Stirlingshire side have competed in the Scottish League since 1900/01, this would be a major step, but in fairness their fan base probably isn’t big enough for there to be too much grumbling about tradition.
They also suffer from being Falkirk’s second team, with their bigger cousins newly acceded to the Premier League. Falkirk’s old ground, Brockville, used to be a stone’s throw away from Firs Park but that is now a gleaming Morrisons and Falkirk play on the outskirts of town in a brand new stadium dominated by a handsome and huge main stand.
This development does though allow East Stirlingshire’s PA announcer to come out with a pearler of a line in his spiel: “There’s only one team in Falkirk [comedy pause] town centre”. It is pretty much the only line you can discern though as his brogue wraps around a scattergun of words that fire out with something near to an intake of breath once every 8 minutes. He clearly has a lot to monologue about and little time to do it. Shame then that I understand little of it, apart from some choice comments on the ‘Pointless’ book, and the phrase “Be part of the Shire in-crowd”. I imagine there’s not much of an out-crowd in truth, an exclusive club of masochists and the sympathetic certainly. However thanks to their so-bad-it’s-good notoriety, they are able to wear Littlewoods Pools only ever team sponsorship across their midriff, which probably helps in their quest for player-appeasing tenners.
It is perhaps a much better deal than for the Queens Park side who are sponsored by Irn-Bru and all decked out handsomely in blue and orange away shirts seemingly so as to resemble a can of the stuff. However, the officials seem intent on winning the pre-match fancy dress going, as they do, for the cyberpunk bicycle courier look. An opportunity for a quick thinking steward with access to a flag, and possibly a cosh, to cause potential match-winning confusion. Sadly this opportunity goes untaken.
Despite early East Stirlingshire pressure, it is Queens Park who look the far more assured and just sit back waiting for their opportunity. It comes regularly, and is capitalised upon 3 times in the first half. As the second hits the back of the net, one local woman behind the goal turns to another and says “this is shite, eh?”. You’d think by now they’d be used to it.
However the Shire then rally and cause their keeper to make a great full length save while also bulleting a gilt-edged headed chance over the bar. Nevertheless on the stroke of half-time, a free-kick 28 yards out is curled in calmly and deliciously by Paul Harvey. It is the penultimate kick of the half. During his half-time verbal sluice, our man with the mic reminds us that tonight could go to extra time and penalties, “it might do…wait and see”. You can’t knock wide-eyed optimism like that.
Two minutes after a shot is blocked on the line, East Stirlingshire finally get on the score sheet courtesy Iain Diack, and our man on the tannoy’s message could not, unexpectedly, be clearer. “Game on!” he says, as though having never before been to Firs Park.
The comparatively numerate away throng are all too aware though that their passage into the next round of the CIS cup is assured, particularly when the Shire’s Stephen Blair is tunnelled for a second bookable after 75 minutes. Despite an official nickname of ‘The Spiders’, they appear to sing ‘Come on you Queens’ by way of celebration. Coming from a bunch of Glaswegians, this is progress indeed.
Road to Hampden
F: Dunfermline Athletic 0 Celtic 3 (att. 50.090)
SF: Dunfermline Athletic 1 Livingston 0 (att. 4,630)
4R: Livingston 2 Inverness Caledonian Thistle 1 aet (att. 1,531)
3R: Livingston 1 Heart of Midlothian 0 (att. 3,805)
2R: Queens Park 0 Heart of Midlothian 2 (att. 2,429)
1R: East Stirlingshire 1 Queens Park 3
Tuesday, 16 August 2005
England v Australia
Npower 3rd Ashes Test (Day 5 of 5)
Old Trafford, Manchester
England 444 (Vaughan 166, Lee 4-100, Warne 4-99)
Australia 302 (Warne 90, S. Jones 6-53)
England 280-6d. (Strauss 106, McGrath 5-115)
Australia 371-9 (Ponting 156, Flintoff 4-71)
Match drawn
I'm not going to say much about today as all the newspapers will have there much more erudite take, and also you can check the websites I listed here for an Aussie perspective.
Up at 5, on the train at 5:55am, outside the ground at 7:15 and in by 8:30. It would appear the early bird approach was the correct one as thousands were locked out. Such a shame not everyone could get in. All worth the lack of sleep though, without doubt.
When you consider this was the last day of a 5 day sporting encounter that ended up in a draw, it is perhaps difficult to explain, to those not in the cricketing know, that this was possibly the most exciting time I've had at a sporting fixture. The atmosphere inside Old Trafford yeterday was at times unbelievable.
Indeed, when Ponting and Clarke were well into their partnership the noise built and built and you could tell something was going to happen. Then Simon Jones pulled out that awesome reverse-swinger to uproot Clarke's off stump. Magical.
We didn't win, but a pulsating days cricket which England should take great heart from. When was the last time England could field 7 in slips and gully with a silly point and short leg? These are great days indeed.
Let's hope we can keep it going for Trent Bridge and The Oval.
Anyway, now back from Edinburgh I've updated the box social site with the last 2 days in review. I'll be back there again from next Wednesday.
I also managed to get to two footy fixtures while in Edinburgh and those will appear in the next week on here.
Old Trafford, Manchester
England 444 (Vaughan 166, Lee 4-100, Warne 4-99)
Australia 302 (Warne 90, S. Jones 6-53)
England 280-6d. (Strauss 106, McGrath 5-115)
Australia 371-9 (Ponting 156, Flintoff 4-71)
Match drawn
I'm not going to say much about today as all the newspapers will have there much more erudite take, and also you can check the websites I listed here for an Aussie perspective.
Up at 5, on the train at 5:55am, outside the ground at 7:15 and in by 8:30. It would appear the early bird approach was the correct one as thousands were locked out. Such a shame not everyone could get in. All worth the lack of sleep though, without doubt.
When you consider this was the last day of a 5 day sporting encounter that ended up in a draw, it is perhaps difficult to explain, to those not in the cricketing know, that this was possibly the most exciting time I've had at a sporting fixture. The atmosphere inside Old Trafford yeterday was at times unbelievable.
Indeed, when Ponting and Clarke were well into their partnership the noise built and built and you could tell something was going to happen. Then Simon Jones pulled out that awesome reverse-swinger to uproot Clarke's off stump. Magical.
We didn't win, but a pulsating days cricket which England should take great heart from. When was the last time England could field 7 in slips and gully with a silly point and short leg? These are great days indeed.
Let's hope we can keep it going for Trent Bridge and The Oval.
Anyway, now back from Edinburgh I've updated the box social site with the last 2 days in review. I'll be back there again from next Wednesday.
I also managed to get to two footy fixtures while in Edinburgh and those will appear in the next week on here.
Monday, 8 August 2005
Ashes Watch #4
Now try telling me that Test match cricket ain't exciting.
What a morning yesterday - we should never have let the Aussie get that close but to hold our nerve (despite the 4 byes that kep slewing down leg-side) was indicative of how special our England team now is.
The series is alive and we can still do a lot better. Onto Old Trafford then...
What a morning yesterday - we should never have let the Aussie get that close but to hold our nerve (despite the 4 byes that kep slewing down leg-side) was indicative of how special our England team now is.
The series is alive and we can still do a lot better. Onto Old Trafford then...
Friday, 5 August 2005
Liverpool 2 FBK Kaunas 0
UEFA Champions League 2nd Qualifying Round 2nd leg (agg. 5-1)
Anfield
att. 43,717
Do you ever get that feeling? I’m sure you do. That feeling like you’re seeing effigies of Bill Shankly everywhere? First got this peculiar affliction last Saturday at Preston. It was as though his mush was appearing to me, and probably me alone, through some lenticular illusion coming from within the seating. Then tonight passing the Anfield club shop, it’s like he’s there right in front of me, pumping fists while floating a couple of feet above the milling crowd. Starting to freak me out, y’know.
So yeah, our Billy, bit of a hero at Preston and, apparently, quite well thought of by a few of the folks up here. Easy to see why, the Shankly era marked the start of 2 decades of Liverpool dominance domestically and often in Europe, a legacy continued on through Paisley, Fagin and Dalglish, and stopping dead with Graeme Souness. The 90’s was a quieter time, and the 5 mugs in a calendar year won under Gerard Houllier appear to have been brushed under the carpet. Victim of Liverpool’s previous successes though, rather than his own. Still though, the Liverpool passion burns brightly red, which they appear to wear with good reason. Their pride and loyalty, along with Everton fans' stoic support of their side, shows all that is good about Liverpool, indeed you only have to listen out for the number of Scouse accents in the world of football as a whole to see how much the game means in this part of the world.
Sometimes, in this town, it can feel like there are only two options, regardless of your origin. You can get the question 'RED OR BLUE?' fired at you, as though from the angry lips of a phlegmy Gestapo general, on your way out of Somerfield for example. Your answer dictates which club crest-adorned credit card you will be offered, once you've picked yourself up off the floor and wiped away the spittle.
Had I bothered to respond 'white with blue and yellow trim', instead of running away in abject fear, and then been presented with an H&W-skinned MasterCard, then I'd have been suitably impressed enough to sign up to crippling debt, for sure. I imagine, though, that the hot-foot was the right option at every stage.
It's not always so bipolar though. En route to the game, I spy a glimpse of a kickabout going on down a side street. 3 lads knocking it around, 2 dressed casually, the other decked out in an AC Milan top. After the shenanigans in Istanbul, I can’t decide whether this is great empathy or sheer lunacy. Either way, he doesn’t appear to have been hit with too much abuse. It would appear that the nation of Liverpool has died down from a giddy hysteria to a gentle glow of satisfaction regarding their thrilling Champions League victory back in May.
Indeed the Red Army were brought down to earth rather by UEFA dumping them into the qualifying rounds of this season’s extravaganza. Frustration abounded around Merseyside, with Everton sphincter’s initially tightening at the prospect of our FA awarding their place to Liverpool thereby allowing UEFA a get-out clause for not setting this kind of situation in rule-book stone, after Real Madrid’s 5th-placed warning in 2000 (where the Spanish FA did obligingly rob Zaragoza of their spot). While you can see the logic of placing the winners of the tournament instantly back in the pot, it seems this logic isn’t good enough for that plucky bunch of grafters, Brazil, who have to go through a couple of short YEARS of qualifying to have another crack at winning the Globeshire Senior Mug.
Besides the Champions League, to my mind, means the champions of each European league. Some would no doubt argue that teams like Neftchi, HB, Kairat Almaty and Sliema Wanderers, for example, dilute the competition despite being champion sides. While the standard is far off that served up in the heavy seeded nations like England, Spain, Italy and Portugal, do teams finishing 4th entering the contest not fly in the face of the concept? With Liverpool’s triumph last year, probably not then, but it’s a healthy mix, and a real delight, particularly for an enthusiast for unfashionable leagues like myself, to watch the Champions League winners slumming it against folks like TNS and tonight’s opposition, FBK Kaunas, champions of Lithuania for the past 5 seasons.
You don’t argue with a tenner a seat either to watch the champs defend their title, even if it is a heavyweight v light-middleweight contest, the feather light TNS already dispatched calmly and efficiently. Not a bad seat either for me outlay, sat in a row of one single seat that’s wedged between the gangway steps and the directors box. Right at the front, too so able to lean on the same supporting wall as bobble haired Chief Executive Rick Parry (as seen in the picture below). Although no cushioning on my seat though. Refunds will be demanded, of course.
The Lithuanian dignitaries take post early in the plush seats to soak in this atmosphere of this fine stadium. I’m not easily seduced by size and seats, but this place just WORKS and it’ll be sad if they do decide to move elsewhere.
The visitors could though have probably lived without the highly smug PA announcement that the Kop would have to be on good form tonight to out-sing the away support. 30 or so Lithuanians ghettoized in the Anfield Road Stand give a collective look that says “Go on then, impress us”. With that a piped ‘You’ll Never Walk Alone’ is accompanied by near on 40,000 Liverpudlians bearing scarves. The Kaunas hardcore break out in to a round of applause, on its completion. It is as impressive a sight (and sound) as many have described it before. Not quite sure where the Kop’s predilection for Johnny Cash’s ‘Ring Of Fire’ comes from but it’s never a problem to hear June Carter’s brass motif (Johnny’s wife wrote that one, fact fans) in any form.
Being 3-1 up from the first leg, Rafael Benitez doesn’t play what might be considered his first team although it’s still a formidable line-up, but it relegates Steven Gerrard to the bench along with Djibril Cisse, whose physique and facial hair appear carved out of a number of precious stones.
There also appears something new on offer from the Champions League. Sexy refs. No longer just the geography master, the accountant and, err, Pinhead from Hellraiser ref styles, no, Italy’s Gianluca Paparesta has Figo-esque filmstar looks. Who’s the bastard in the fetching little black number? Anyway enough homoerotica…
It is a fairly slow game with Kaunas soaking up any Liverpool pressure. Paunchy Rafa is up out of his dug-out every other minute, seemingly exercising away his holiday flab (not that he had much of a break after UEFA’s kind gift of the qualifying rounds). His counterpart remains rooted throughout. Telepathy apparently in the Lithuanian coach’s locker.
Liverpool’s expensive new signing, Peter Crouch, appears to have not yet developed an understanding with his new colleagues and once substituted with a hamstring strain, he isn’t overly missed. However it takes Gerrard and Cisse coming from the bench to sort out the tie. Gerrard receives a Papal-like reception, so it would appear that despite him preparing, for a while at least, to leap aboard Mourinho’s footballing juggernaut, it has been both forgiven and forgotten. He is Liverpool just at the mo and, as you might therefore expect, he pops up with tonight’s first goal to gee up a crowd getting a little bored. Only his 7th from midfield in the Champions League this year, perhaps he fancies adding a decorative shiny shoe to his mantelpiece this year, if not another big eared fella that he can share with his mates.
Before the end the impressive and tireless Cisse glides through the air like a stop-motion ghostly gazelle to connect with a cross to wrap up a 2-0 victory on the night and 5-1 on aggregate.
On this display, it’s hard to see Liverpool challenging Chelsea, Arsenal and Man Utd at the top of the Premiership, but then they are a side that seemingly always pick themselves up for the big games, and with a full strength side out, who knows, perhaps they can wow again in Europe, and even on the domestic stage.
Road to the Stade de France
F: Arsenal 1 Barcelona 2 (att. 79,500) [UEFA]
SF2: Barcelona 0 AC Milan 0 (att. 90,000) [UEFA]
SF1: AC Milan 0 Barcelona 1 (att. 85,000) [UEFA]
QF2: Barcelona 2 Benfica 0 (att. 89,875) [UEFA]
QF1: Benfica 0 Barcelona 0 (att. 65,000) [UEFA]
Rndof16l2: Liverpool 0 Benfica 2 (att. 42,745) [UEFA]
Rndof16l1: Benfica 1 Liverpool 0 (att. 65,000) [UEFA]
GrpG6: Chelsea 0 Liverpool 0 (att. 41,598) [UEFA]
GrpG5: Liverpool 0 Real Betis 0 (att. 42,077) [UEFA]
GrpG4: Liverpool 3 Anderlecht 0(att. 42,607) [UEFA]
GrpG3: Anderlecht 0 Liverpool 1 (att. 25,000) [UEFA]
GrpG2: Liverpool 0 Chelsea 0 (att. 42,743) [UEFA]
GrpG1: Real Betis 1 Liverpool 2 (att. 45,000) [UEFA]
3QRl2: Liverpool 0 CSKA Sofia 1 (att. 42,175) [UEFA]
3QRl1: CSKA Sofia 1 Liverpool 3 (att. 16,512) [UEFA]
2QRl2: Liverpool 2 FBK Kaunas 0 [UEFA]
2QRl1: FBK Kaunas 1 Liverpool 3 (att. 8,300) [UEFA]
1QRl2: FBK Kaunas 4 HB Tórshavn 0 (att. ?)[UEFA]
1QRl1: Total Network Solutions 0 Liverpool 3 (att. 8,009) [UEFA]
1QRl1: HB Tórshavn 2 FBK Kaunas 4 (att. 500) [UEFA]
1QRl1: Liverpool 3 Total Network Solutions 0 (att. 44,760) [UEFA]
Anfield
att. 43,717
Do you ever get that feeling? I’m sure you do. That feeling like you’re seeing effigies of Bill Shankly everywhere? First got this peculiar affliction last Saturday at Preston. It was as though his mush was appearing to me, and probably me alone, through some lenticular illusion coming from within the seating. Then tonight passing the Anfield club shop, it’s like he’s there right in front of me, pumping fists while floating a couple of feet above the milling crowd. Starting to freak me out, y’know.
So yeah, our Billy, bit of a hero at Preston and, apparently, quite well thought of by a few of the folks up here. Easy to see why, the Shankly era marked the start of 2 decades of Liverpool dominance domestically and often in Europe, a legacy continued on through Paisley, Fagin and Dalglish, and stopping dead with Graeme Souness. The 90’s was a quieter time, and the 5 mugs in a calendar year won under Gerard Houllier appear to have been brushed under the carpet. Victim of Liverpool’s previous successes though, rather than his own. Still though, the Liverpool passion burns brightly red, which they appear to wear with good reason. Their pride and loyalty, along with Everton fans' stoic support of their side, shows all that is good about Liverpool, indeed you only have to listen out for the number of Scouse accents in the world of football as a whole to see how much the game means in this part of the world.
Sometimes, in this town, it can feel like there are only two options, regardless of your origin. You can get the question 'RED OR BLUE?' fired at you, as though from the angry lips of a phlegmy Gestapo general, on your way out of Somerfield for example. Your answer dictates which club crest-adorned credit card you will be offered, once you've picked yourself up off the floor and wiped away the spittle.
Had I bothered to respond 'white with blue and yellow trim', instead of running away in abject fear, and then been presented with an H&W-skinned MasterCard, then I'd have been suitably impressed enough to sign up to crippling debt, for sure. I imagine, though, that the hot-foot was the right option at every stage.
It's not always so bipolar though. En route to the game, I spy a glimpse of a kickabout going on down a side street. 3 lads knocking it around, 2 dressed casually, the other decked out in an AC Milan top. After the shenanigans in Istanbul, I can’t decide whether this is great empathy or sheer lunacy. Either way, he doesn’t appear to have been hit with too much abuse. It would appear that the nation of Liverpool has died down from a giddy hysteria to a gentle glow of satisfaction regarding their thrilling Champions League victory back in May.
Indeed the Red Army were brought down to earth rather by UEFA dumping them into the qualifying rounds of this season’s extravaganza. Frustration abounded around Merseyside, with Everton sphincter’s initially tightening at the prospect of our FA awarding their place to Liverpool thereby allowing UEFA a get-out clause for not setting this kind of situation in rule-book stone, after Real Madrid’s 5th-placed warning in 2000 (where the Spanish FA did obligingly rob Zaragoza of their spot). While you can see the logic of placing the winners of the tournament instantly back in the pot, it seems this logic isn’t good enough for that plucky bunch of grafters, Brazil, who have to go through a couple of short YEARS of qualifying to have another crack at winning the Globeshire Senior Mug.
Besides the Champions League, to my mind, means the champions of each European league. Some would no doubt argue that teams like Neftchi, HB, Kairat Almaty and Sliema Wanderers, for example, dilute the competition despite being champion sides. While the standard is far off that served up in the heavy seeded nations like England, Spain, Italy and Portugal, do teams finishing 4th entering the contest not fly in the face of the concept? With Liverpool’s triumph last year, probably not then, but it’s a healthy mix, and a real delight, particularly for an enthusiast for unfashionable leagues like myself, to watch the Champions League winners slumming it against folks like TNS and tonight’s opposition, FBK Kaunas, champions of Lithuania for the past 5 seasons.
You don’t argue with a tenner a seat either to watch the champs defend their title, even if it is a heavyweight v light-middleweight contest, the feather light TNS already dispatched calmly and efficiently. Not a bad seat either for me outlay, sat in a row of one single seat that’s wedged between the gangway steps and the directors box. Right at the front, too so able to lean on the same supporting wall as bobble haired Chief Executive Rick Parry (as seen in the picture below). Although no cushioning on my seat though. Refunds will be demanded, of course.
The Lithuanian dignitaries take post early in the plush seats to soak in this atmosphere of this fine stadium. I’m not easily seduced by size and seats, but this place just WORKS and it’ll be sad if they do decide to move elsewhere.
The visitors could though have probably lived without the highly smug PA announcement that the Kop would have to be on good form tonight to out-sing the away support. 30 or so Lithuanians ghettoized in the Anfield Road Stand give a collective look that says “Go on then, impress us”. With that a piped ‘You’ll Never Walk Alone’ is accompanied by near on 40,000 Liverpudlians bearing scarves. The Kaunas hardcore break out in to a round of applause, on its completion. It is as impressive a sight (and sound) as many have described it before. Not quite sure where the Kop’s predilection for Johnny Cash’s ‘Ring Of Fire’ comes from but it’s never a problem to hear June Carter’s brass motif (Johnny’s wife wrote that one, fact fans) in any form.
Being 3-1 up from the first leg, Rafael Benitez doesn’t play what might be considered his first team although it’s still a formidable line-up, but it relegates Steven Gerrard to the bench along with Djibril Cisse, whose physique and facial hair appear carved out of a number of precious stones.
There also appears something new on offer from the Champions League. Sexy refs. No longer just the geography master, the accountant and, err, Pinhead from Hellraiser ref styles, no, Italy’s Gianluca Paparesta has Figo-esque filmstar looks. Who’s the bastard in the fetching little black number? Anyway enough homoerotica…
It is a fairly slow game with Kaunas soaking up any Liverpool pressure. Paunchy Rafa is up out of his dug-out every other minute, seemingly exercising away his holiday flab (not that he had much of a break after UEFA’s kind gift of the qualifying rounds). His counterpart remains rooted throughout. Telepathy apparently in the Lithuanian coach’s locker.
Liverpool’s expensive new signing, Peter Crouch, appears to have not yet developed an understanding with his new colleagues and once substituted with a hamstring strain, he isn’t overly missed. However it takes Gerrard and Cisse coming from the bench to sort out the tie. Gerrard receives a Papal-like reception, so it would appear that despite him preparing, for a while at least, to leap aboard Mourinho’s footballing juggernaut, it has been both forgiven and forgotten. He is Liverpool just at the mo and, as you might therefore expect, he pops up with tonight’s first goal to gee up a crowd getting a little bored. Only his 7th from midfield in the Champions League this year, perhaps he fancies adding a decorative shiny shoe to his mantelpiece this year, if not another big eared fella that he can share with his mates.
Before the end the impressive and tireless Cisse glides through the air like a stop-motion ghostly gazelle to connect with a cross to wrap up a 2-0 victory on the night and 5-1 on aggregate.
On this display, it’s hard to see Liverpool challenging Chelsea, Arsenal and Man Utd at the top of the Premiership, but then they are a side that seemingly always pick themselves up for the big games, and with a full strength side out, who knows, perhaps they can wow again in Europe, and even on the domestic stage.
Road to the Stade de France
F: Arsenal 1 Barcelona 2 (att. 79,500) [UEFA]
SF2: Barcelona 0 AC Milan 0 (att. 90,000) [UEFA]
SF1: AC Milan 0 Barcelona 1 (att. 85,000) [UEFA]
QF2: Barcelona 2 Benfica 0 (att. 89,875) [UEFA]
QF1: Benfica 0 Barcelona 0 (att. 65,000) [UEFA]
Rndof16l2: Liverpool 0 Benfica 2 (att. 42,745) [UEFA]
Rndof16l1: Benfica 1 Liverpool 0 (att. 65,000) [UEFA]
GrpG6: Chelsea 0 Liverpool 0 (att. 41,598) [UEFA]
GrpG5: Liverpool 0 Real Betis 0 (att. 42,077) [UEFA]
GrpG4: Liverpool 3 Anderlecht 0(att. 42,607) [UEFA]
GrpG3: Anderlecht 0 Liverpool 1 (att. 25,000) [UEFA]
GrpG2: Liverpool 0 Chelsea 0 (att. 42,743) [UEFA]
GrpG1: Real Betis 1 Liverpool 2 (att. 45,000) [UEFA]
3QRl2: Liverpool 0 CSKA Sofia 1 (att. 42,175) [UEFA]
3QRl1: CSKA Sofia 1 Liverpool 3 (att. 16,512) [UEFA]
2QRl2: Liverpool 2 FBK Kaunas 0 [UEFA]
2QRl1: FBK Kaunas 1 Liverpool 3 (att. 8,300) [UEFA]
1QRl2: FBK Kaunas 4 HB Tórshavn 0 (att. ?)[UEFA]
1QRl1: Total Network Solutions 0 Liverpool 3 (att. 8,009) [UEFA]
1QRl1: HB Tórshavn 2 FBK Kaunas 4 (att. 500) [UEFA]
1QRl1: Liverpool 3 Total Network Solutions 0 (att. 44,760) [UEFA]
Thursday, 4 August 2005
Ashes Watch #3
Without wishing to tempt fate, England appear to be make a more than decent fist of clawing their way back in this Ashes series this morning, 146-1 as I write.
Luckily I am able to stream 5 Live Sports Extra through my computer speakers, but those without sound could do worse than visiting The Times ball-by-ball scoreboard, which looks very handsome indeed and updates remarkably quickly with quirky graphics of umpires signalling and such.
They've also got an Ashes blog going.
Good effort.
Luckily I am able to stream 5 Live Sports Extra through my computer speakers, but those without sound could do worse than visiting The Times ball-by-ball scoreboard, which looks very handsome indeed and updates remarkably quickly with quirky graphics of umpires signalling and such.
They've also got an Ashes blog going.
Good effort.
Tuesday, 2 August 2005
Lancashire XI v Bangladesh A
Aigburth, Liverpool
Tour match
Bangladesh 'A' won by 7 wickets. Apparently.
AS you might expect, there's nothing I like more than an outground. It's a shame therefore that my home county, Hampshire, stopped using their regular outposts of Portsmouth, Basingstoke and Bournemouth once the Rose Bowl was built. To get out there and visit other parts of the county expanse, and indeed neighbouring minor counties and districts in some cases, used to be essential. Part of what made it so great was the fact that the anticipation for it, and the carnival atmosphere of the tents and marquees all around made for a great day out.
With that in mind, I eagerly awaited this years fixture lists to see when Lancashire would be playing at Liverpool which they use once a year for a 4 day county game, as they do at Blackpool. However, for this season, Lancashire's sole concession to their Merseyside support was a one day game against the visiting Bangladesh 'A' side.
No problem, you'd think. Sounds like a decent game, particularly as the eventual starting XI featured 8 that had experience of defeat at Test Match level.
On top of that, free entry. Again, nice, but I think I'd have much rather paid a little more to have got some proper outground action. No tents, no marquees, no seating in fact, apart from a 2 person bench that the steward (from Old Trafford, who himself expressed disbelief at the lack of effort put into staging this game) and myself lifted in from an adjacent tennis court. All the other in situ benches had been taken by the 30 or so early birds. Nowhere near enough scorecards had been printed either.
No effort had been put into advertising the game, and they clearly weren't expecting anybody to show. No food, except for a few hastily thrown together rolls in the pavilion. Furthermore, coming 2 days after Lancashire's appearance at the Twenty20 finals day, only 1 member from that team was on show, and was a decidely Second XI feel. Again, no real problem with that, young players have to blooded somewhere. The Lancy stiffs also feature Sajid Mahmood these days, who was in the England one-day side barely 12 months ago which suggests how far his star has fallen.
Come the break after about 25 overs for a rain shower, which had not been forecast, I must admit the lacklustre nature of the occasion made me feel like I'd wasted a day off and, feeling anxious about a pile of records beginning to build up again at VP towers, I walked home. Had it not been free or just an hours walk from my house, I might have stayed, but having not really been made to feel comfortable as a punter, I made off, missing a fair to middlin' game by all accounts. Hopefully there will be a proper county game here next year.
A poor show from the Hobo then and after the Preston yawnfest, I'm needing something to enliven my enthusiasm once more.
Tour match
Bangladesh 'A' won by 7 wickets. Apparently.
AS you might expect, there's nothing I like more than an outground. It's a shame therefore that my home county, Hampshire, stopped using their regular outposts of Portsmouth, Basingstoke and Bournemouth once the Rose Bowl was built. To get out there and visit other parts of the county expanse, and indeed neighbouring minor counties and districts in some cases, used to be essential. Part of what made it so great was the fact that the anticipation for it, and the carnival atmosphere of the tents and marquees all around made for a great day out.
With that in mind, I eagerly awaited this years fixture lists to see when Lancashire would be playing at Liverpool which they use once a year for a 4 day county game, as they do at Blackpool. However, for this season, Lancashire's sole concession to their Merseyside support was a one day game against the visiting Bangladesh 'A' side.
No problem, you'd think. Sounds like a decent game, particularly as the eventual starting XI featured 8 that had experience of defeat at Test Match level.
On top of that, free entry. Again, nice, but I think I'd have much rather paid a little more to have got some proper outground action. No tents, no marquees, no seating in fact, apart from a 2 person bench that the steward (from Old Trafford, who himself expressed disbelief at the lack of effort put into staging this game) and myself lifted in from an adjacent tennis court. All the other in situ benches had been taken by the 30 or so early birds. Nowhere near enough scorecards had been printed either.
No effort had been put into advertising the game, and they clearly weren't expecting anybody to show. No food, except for a few hastily thrown together rolls in the pavilion. Furthermore, coming 2 days after Lancashire's appearance at the Twenty20 finals day, only 1 member from that team was on show, and was a decidely Second XI feel. Again, no real problem with that, young players have to blooded somewhere. The Lancy stiffs also feature Sajid Mahmood these days, who was in the England one-day side barely 12 months ago which suggests how far his star has fallen.
Come the break after about 25 overs for a rain shower, which had not been forecast, I must admit the lacklustre nature of the occasion made me feel like I'd wasted a day off and, feeling anxious about a pile of records beginning to build up again at VP towers, I walked home. Had it not been free or just an hours walk from my house, I might have stayed, but having not really been made to feel comfortable as a punter, I made off, missing a fair to middlin' game by all accounts. Hopefully there will be a proper county game here next year.
A poor show from the Hobo then and after the Preston yawnfest, I'm needing something to enliven my enthusiasm once more.
Monday, 1 August 2005
Preston North End 0 Malaga 0
Pre-season friendly
Deepdale
Preston are one of those sides, like Stoke, Blackpool and maybe Wolves that are most readily associated with football in it’s dust-coated archive form. In aerial photos where swathes of baggy flat caps cover every inch of expansive terracing. In Brief cuts of newsreel footage soundtracked with the clack of rattles, whirring like dervishes, the stocky grandparent of the air horn in the family line of football’s aural irritants. These are clubs whose finest moments in the collective memory are almost all sepia-tinged.
Of all the sides I mention, Preston seem the most keen to wallow in cushioning nostalgia; the National Football Museum is based here, after all. On top of that, rather than arrange the rainbow of seating to spell out sponsors, acronyms and empty rallying calls, Preston go for the more complicated, but elegant, aesthetic of embossing a likeness of a club legend on the 3 new stands. These are, as you might expect, named in honour of the respective heroes, they being Alan Kelly; Bill Shankley; and Sir Tom Finney.
Of course this handsome effect is usually lost under the weight of thousands of unwittingly disrespectful North End arses sitting down (and telling Shanks they love him). Today being a friendly, and therefore eschewed by all save the most hardcore or the downright foolish, Alan Kelly and Shanks are able to beam out unfettered by collective crack. Sir Tom is not so lucky, but then again he does get a fountain statue outside in addition to his dignified mooey in tip-up plastic form.
Inside the ground there are certainly fewer concessions to history, as the 3 ‘facial’ stands rise up, screaming essential modernity in the post-Hillsborough age, despite the gigantic illusions they display. At the moment though, between Bill and Alan, and opposite Sir Tom, is the rather dowdy and old school Pavilion stand, and the Paddock terracing that is surprisingly free of weeds considering its long-term lack of use. Soon though I expect Deepdale will need to lose it, and be a much blander structure for it.
Certainly, the ground is probably better experienced for a competitive fixture, as with only one side open and about two thirds full, the hairs aren’t likely to stand on end anytime soon. Friendlies are always shite though. It is a warm-up, and so it appears is it for the crowd, as about 8 tracksuited scals at the back try to get some singing going on the odd occasion. Their attempts are met by silence, very subdued whispering of their lyrics and the odd yawn. The rest of the time idle chatter, only barely related to the game playing out in front of us, keeps up an idle hum.
The game itself? Ye gods. Where do you even start? Should expect it really but literally, NOTHING HAPPENS. The odd chance that isn’t really a chance. A touch of pan-European bitch-slapping at the start of the second half. And that would pretty much be it. Despite Malaga being a mid-table La Liga side last season, they’ll probably be sad to learn that they are the equal of a side finishing 5th in the English second tier in the stupefyingly dull stakes. I remember now, this is why I don’t do friendlies anymore. All the atmosphere of a homeless, kinless junkie’s funeral.
Used to enjoy Havant & Waterlooville playing away at smaller local sides and beating the Pompey stiffs at West Leigh Park year after year at the turn of the millennium. They’re big-boy Premiership now though and this year even turned out their first team to spank us 6-nuffin’. Still 3000 through the turnstiles ain’t bad for the club coffers. Nonetheless, there’s little to enjoy in these things, save for seeing your home ground nearly full. Of away fans. Sigh. Bring on August 13th.
There’s a couple of coachloads of visiting adolescent American soccer teams at today’s game who have probably heard a lot about the loyalty, passion and quality of the English and Spanish leagues. Maybe it is early exposure to mind-numbing European soccer friendlies amongst US teens that explains Gridiron’s enormous popularity.
Deepdale
Preston are one of those sides, like Stoke, Blackpool and maybe Wolves that are most readily associated with football in it’s dust-coated archive form. In aerial photos where swathes of baggy flat caps cover every inch of expansive terracing. In Brief cuts of newsreel footage soundtracked with the clack of rattles, whirring like dervishes, the stocky grandparent of the air horn in the family line of football’s aural irritants. These are clubs whose finest moments in the collective memory are almost all sepia-tinged.
Of all the sides I mention, Preston seem the most keen to wallow in cushioning nostalgia; the National Football Museum is based here, after all. On top of that, rather than arrange the rainbow of seating to spell out sponsors, acronyms and empty rallying calls, Preston go for the more complicated, but elegant, aesthetic of embossing a likeness of a club legend on the 3 new stands. These are, as you might expect, named in honour of the respective heroes, they being Alan Kelly; Bill Shankley; and Sir Tom Finney.
Of course this handsome effect is usually lost under the weight of thousands of unwittingly disrespectful North End arses sitting down (and telling Shanks they love him). Today being a friendly, and therefore eschewed by all save the most hardcore or the downright foolish, Alan Kelly and Shanks are able to beam out unfettered by collective crack. Sir Tom is not so lucky, but then again he does get a fountain statue outside in addition to his dignified mooey in tip-up plastic form.
Inside the ground there are certainly fewer concessions to history, as the 3 ‘facial’ stands rise up, screaming essential modernity in the post-Hillsborough age, despite the gigantic illusions they display. At the moment though, between Bill and Alan, and opposite Sir Tom, is the rather dowdy and old school Pavilion stand, and the Paddock terracing that is surprisingly free of weeds considering its long-term lack of use. Soon though I expect Deepdale will need to lose it, and be a much blander structure for it.
Certainly, the ground is probably better experienced for a competitive fixture, as with only one side open and about two thirds full, the hairs aren’t likely to stand on end anytime soon. Friendlies are always shite though. It is a warm-up, and so it appears is it for the crowd, as about 8 tracksuited scals at the back try to get some singing going on the odd occasion. Their attempts are met by silence, very subdued whispering of their lyrics and the odd yawn. The rest of the time idle chatter, only barely related to the game playing out in front of us, keeps up an idle hum.
The game itself? Ye gods. Where do you even start? Should expect it really but literally, NOTHING HAPPENS. The odd chance that isn’t really a chance. A touch of pan-European bitch-slapping at the start of the second half. And that would pretty much be it. Despite Malaga being a mid-table La Liga side last season, they’ll probably be sad to learn that they are the equal of a side finishing 5th in the English second tier in the stupefyingly dull stakes. I remember now, this is why I don’t do friendlies anymore. All the atmosphere of a homeless, kinless junkie’s funeral.
Used to enjoy Havant & Waterlooville playing away at smaller local sides and beating the Pompey stiffs at West Leigh Park year after year at the turn of the millennium. They’re big-boy Premiership now though and this year even turned out their first team to spank us 6-nuffin’. Still 3000 through the turnstiles ain’t bad for the club coffers. Nonetheless, there’s little to enjoy in these things, save for seeing your home ground nearly full. Of away fans. Sigh. Bring on August 13th.
There’s a couple of coachloads of visiting adolescent American soccer teams at today’s game who have probably heard a lot about the loyalty, passion and quality of the English and Spanish leagues. Maybe it is early exposure to mind-numbing European soccer friendlies amongst US teens that explains Gridiron’s enormous popularity.
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