The Diary

16 March 2004: Wigan - The Jewell In The Crown, Or The Jewell Staying Down?

Greetings, once more, from this by now thoroughly bug-ridden column. Still, if I think I?ve got it bad, I just console myself with the thought I didn?t have to work a 15-hour shift yesterday, which is what The Noise had to do. How come? Well, it?s all part and parcel of the monumental trade-off he enters into when negotiating time off to watch our favourite football team before the start of each season. Luckily, he?s blessed with a manager possessive of a good deal of common sense, not to mention commendable man-management skills, twin commodities not usually found in British industry these days.

The arrangement is simple: The Noise offers to help out his gaffer if there?s a rush job on, and he needs someone to work over at short notice, and in return, our garrulous co-editor gets time off to watch the lads wherever practicable, which is around 99.9 per cent of the time, thanks to all that wheeling and dealing of shifts by his accommodating gaffer. The downside, of course, is those bloody long hours worked to fulfil The Noise?s side of the bargain with management, as per this Sunday just gone. Having worked such daft hours myself in the past, I?ll just say this: like The Noise does on occasions, I?ve had to do three of those in a row before now. The first time, no bother. Come the second of the three, and the old red rims start to appear around the eyes, and by the time you get around to the third? Er - just think ?voodoo zombie lookalike?, and you have it in a nutshell.

It?s those sort of sacrifices (made by a good many of our supporters as a matter of routine, in some cases) that keep the heart of this club of ours well and truly beating, and it?s a crying shame our football club isn?t more appreciative of this, sometimes. For every supporter like The Noise, there must be loads of others who would dearly like to watch more often than they do at present, but the lack of a sensible work-life balance in their organisation precludes then from doing so. Leisure-time happiness is for wimps with some, it would seem. Trouble is, when someone has to work such crippling hours, there?s always a tab to be picked up 20 or so years down the line ? stress-related illness, and so forth - and it?s never those who advocate relentless ?presenteeism? that do. They?re well looked after courtesy of the ?fat-cat? company ethos, more likely than not. It?s no coincidence that although we have to work the longest hours in Europe, we have one of the lowest productivity records in the EEC.

Mind you, thinking once more about that marathon shift of Mart?s yesterday, God knows what sort of pottery emerged from that kiln of his by the time he?d finished, because when we dropped him off in Stoke on Saturday night, he was mentally flying at 30,000 feet. Cups with two handles, or worse, no handle at all? Plates looking anything but perfectly circular? Saucers of the ?flying? variety? Just keep an eye out in your local market for when all those Wedgwood ?rejects? start to appear; the more bizarre the appearance, the greater the likelihood it?s all down to The Noise!

As I understand it, our hero will have to do yet another deal to attend tomorrow night?s encounter with Wigan ? and I?m with him all the way on that one, because wild horses couldn?t stop me, stinking rotten cold or not. When it comes to my local football club and their probable destiny, well, a girl?s just gotta do what a girl?s gotta do, hasn?t she? At least the forecast promises distinctly warmer climes tomorrow night, which will be a distinct bonus for yours truly; it?s one thing to be sneezing and sniffing something rotten at a game, but when you?re sneezing, sniffing AND shivering (and a goal or two down?) you really begin to doubt your sanity, not to mention your imminent mortality. Although the Crewe win means we have managed to cut ourselves a little bit of slack at the top of the table, therefore a reverse versus The Latics wouldn?t necessarily be a thumping great disaster, getting those three points would be a tremendous morale booster for everyone, players and supporters alike. It would also, more likely than not, completely kill off any remaining threat to us from them. As things stand, Wigan are currently 9 points adrift in third place, and with a game in hand (at Gillingham, so not much hope of an upset if we do go and blow it tomorrow night) on us. They?ve also lost only 4 of their last 17 aways, so we?re not exactly talking ?pushovers? here. Mind you, they?ve only played at our place four times in all, but have never won here; in fact, the last time, in 1993, proved to be something of an embarrassment for the visitors, as we thumped them by a satisfying 5-1 margin.

Although it?s looking very much as though we?ll have no residual injury problems from Saturday, Wigan may well be hampered in that respect. Both Alan Mahon and Steve McMillan do, making them doubtful for tomorrow evening, and Gary Teale is a definite non-starter. Jason Roberts we know all about, of course ? he?s suspended, stupid boy. The big danger, of course, will be Nathan Ellington, who did us so much damage in that League Cup tie at their place last season. Stop him and you stop Wigan? I?ve heard it said so many times, ?one man doesn?t make a team? but ignore Mr. Ellington at your peril. Will we go 3-5-2, or 4-4-2? Will Jay Chambo be utilised to do a man-marking job on their leading goalscorer? A bit ironic if he is, seeing as he?s finally become totally racked off with this ?he loves me, he loves me not? act on our manager?s part, and has now bunged in a transfer request. Or will we simply let Wigan do the worrying for a change? Oh, and reports suggest they?re taking 2,000 of theirs to The Shrine tomorrow, so their noise-level will be quite formidable. Have to do something about that, then, won?t we?

Another big question remains, though. Will Hughsie get a start on the back of that timely winning goal of his the other day? Personally, I would go for it; sure, there may have been a myriad of reasons as to why it happened, but to my mind, Rob Hulse was distinctly below-par at Gresty Road. In any case, we?ve already seen evidence in abundance that when employed in tandem, The Horse and Hughsie are an ?H-bomb? of considerable potency ? or should that read ?Meggo-tonnage?? Sorry.

Hopefully, when I next report, I?ll be wearing an ear-splitting grin, which, sadly, doesn?t translate well into cyberspace, but talk of tomorrow night?s show-down brings me quite neatly to yet another forthcoming attraction I?ve been asked to publicise ? the theme for our annual end-of-season fancy dress beano, which will be at Reading?s Madjeski Stadium this time round. I did mention this about a month or so ago ? The Satanic Nurses suggested a military theme to me ? and I floated it on here, but got sod-all by way of response. Today, they contacted me once more, but via my little mate Anc this time, so yet again, I?m putting out the feelers. After a little more consultation with other interested parties, they?ve now jointly come up with four ideas: Barmy Army (military); Vikings (Tommy Gaardsoe); Reading Rock Festival (hippy gear, presumably?); The Lord?s My Shepherd (Biblical?) Can you please email Anc with your choice direct, c/o anc.world@tesco.net; Anc also says when you do get onto that site, do not change the subject header. The results will be announced in around a week?s time.

And finally?. One. Last night, I set all you good people out there a bit of a challenge. ?Anyone out there able to beat the bloke from Paraguay for remote reading of my nightly contribution to world peace?? said I, or words to that effect. Well, in response to my enquiries, it appears there is yet another far-flung reader out there, so welcome to the madhouse David Dimbylow, photographer and traveller, who is currently living in a remote part of Brazil, the city of Aracaju, close to Salvador, to be precise. At the time of writing, he?d just returned from watching a Third Division match in the north east of Brazil (the local team is called Confianca, meaning ?confidence? and, according to David, they have plenty of it!) Great running, good positioning and skill, and all for 5 reais, which is about a quid in our money, apparently, but never an adequate substitute for the fare provided by our finest. So there you go ? my stuff goes to yet another inaccessible corner of the globe. Is David?s location going to be the most bizarre of the lot ? or can someone else out there do better? I await your pleasure.

Two?. Only a Dingle (Number 6,306). This one comes from my good buddy Steve Sant. While on Wolverhampton Station awaiting his choo-choo to Crewe on Saturday morning, and finding himself early for the train, our hero then repaired to the Weatherspoons pub not far away, to wet his whistle. Once in there, he was then accosted by a brain-dead wearing a Dingles away shirt. Very keen to ascertain on which side of the fence our mate?s loyalties lay, was Chummy, apparently. Luckily Steve managed to confuse the idiot completely by telling him he didn?t know Wolverhampton at all because he wasn?t local, and was just meeting a friend off the train! (Just as well Steve had taken his colours off his coat prior to setting out, then, wasn?t it?) And that wasn?t all ? Steve also reported other Dingles waiting on Wolverhampton Station in the hope of encountering stray Crewe-bound Baggies, and pouncing on them. Unfortunately for them, by the time their solitary brain cell belatedly registered ?Baggies? and they?d got on their mobiles to summon up ?reinforcements?, the Crewe train came and went, taking their quarry with it!

 - Glynis Wright

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