The Diary

28 August 2004: Will The Toffees Come Unstuck?

Oh, dear, things aren?t looking all that good in the ?Get A Decent Striker In Before The Deadline Stakes?, are they? It would appear Wiltord?s a definite no-no, then, according to our leader today. He (Wiltord, not Megson) wants to join a Champion?s League club, apparently, which we most certainly ain?t. Not yet, said she, optimistically. All may not be lost, though, as we still have hopes ? albeit faint, reading between the lines ? about Dindane. We?ll have to be bloody quick, though, for reasons I?ve explained in a previous piece. It would seem our fall-back position?s now Mr. Earnshaw, he of Cardiff City and all stations west; reports from their local press would seem to suggest he?ll be a Baggie ere five days are gone. Nothing against the lad, but I had hoped we would have managed to attract someone a little more acquainted with the wiles of top-class football. Mind you, it isn?t over until midnight on Tuesday, so I?ll not abandon all hope until the clock finally strikes ?bong? Number Twelve.

Today ? well, this lunchtime, actually ? I went in search, not of Paradise, but of Liverpool tickets, which are now on sale to away season-ticket holders. Normally, these sort of jaunts are quite routine for this column, but for a variety of reasons, today?s wasn?t. The first thing was when I alighted from the bus, right outside the Hawthorns Hotel. As I was about to cross the entrance to the car-park, up drove a Post Office van, about to pull in to said area. Not an unusual occurrence in itself, maybe, but what was unusual about it this time was the driver ? Kev Nolan, occasional GD contributor, Blackburn supporter, Terry Pratchett fan, and postie extraordinaire ? oh, and his ?beat? just happens to include our favourite football club as well. Just as well I caught him, really, because he had an extraordinary tale to tell; apparently, he?d just come from The Shrine, where he?d been dropping off the mail, as per usual, and while there, was accosted by a Fulham supporter. For reasons not entirely understood by our tame postal nutcase, said Cottager took it into his head that Kev ? a postie and a Blackburn supporter, remember ? would know intimately ticketing details for our next home game, which is, of course, versus ? yep! And here was I thinking it was only Dingles that were thick. Cor, you don?t half get ?em sometimes.

After batting the breeze a little with Kev, off to the ticket office, then, where there was a small queue of punters awaiting their turn ? and in its patient ranks was a certain Steve Brookes. Diary regulars and Dick devourers might remember that name; thanks to the smelly vagaries of his intestinal system, he?s about the nearest thing Albion have got to a weapon of mass destruction. You sit behind him during games at your peril. Never mind Iraq, Hans Blix and the UN should have sorted Steve out years ago! Fortunately for my nasal apparatus, Steve was about to be served, so my path and his didn?t really cross. (Yes, that was a faint cry of ?Thank God!? you heard coming from your PC?.)

Steve finally dealt with, I was served in a trice, and most efficiently, too, but I?m still puzzled about one thing. As I?m looking to change my credit card, I wanted to apply for the newly-launched Albion version, but was told I couldn?t just take a form home and fill it in, I had to do it on the spot with the assistant (ooer missus). This, I was told, would take about ten minutes ? problem was, there were several behind me in the queue, presumably visiting in their lunch hour, which would have meant being most unfair to them had I gone ahead and applied there and then. Not a good idea. I?m going back in the week to get things sorted out, but as this service is supposed to be available on matchdays, considering the amount of time involved, I couldn?t see it being a ?goer? really. Any easier way of doing it, Baggies?

That done, it was round to the club shop to pay the delectable Dee a visit. Dee, may her bitter be forever blessed with ample froth, is ?mine hostess? of the Old Cross in Langley, really, but also works in the Club shop when she?s not pulling pints there. They aren?t half keeping her busy at the Shrine right now; when I spoke to her, she?d been put in the mail-order section, and was packing and licking like crazy to keep up with all the orders received. Still, as she commented, just seeing the likes of Tommy Gaardsoe and Neil Clement in the shop makes it all worthwhile! Off once more, then, to the Halfords Lane bus stop, where the team coach was waiting, along with sarnie-supremo Dave Holloway, who was loading mineral water and packs of Lucozade Sport up like there was no tomorrow. I kid you not, along with all the usual impedimenta needed by a top-flight side travelling away, there was enough of the wet stuff going into that luggage compartment to keep an entire Foreign Legion garrison from dying of thirst. Oh, and a pair of metal crutches. Do they know something about The Toffees we don?t, then?

It would appear that the Lee Hughes saga still rumbles on; today, the E and S headlined: ?Lee Hughes Stabbed?. From what they said, Lee was attacked while in Winson Green and sustained wounds to his arm, an incident that precipitated his move to Ashwell Prison in Leicestershire the other day. I don?t know the real truth ? Birmingham Prison are now denying anything happened, apparently ? but if it is the case, perhaps it?s just as well Hughsie is out of that environment. You do have to wonder whether the press, with their constant 'stirring of the pot' and their recent tawdry 'revelations', have indirectly contributed towards what?s allegedly happened to Lee. (One observation for the benefit of the journos ? it?s not at all unusual for an inmate to be transferred to another prison with one officer escort only, or in a private taxi, come to think about it. If I?d been given a fiver for the number of times I?ve undertaken that task by myself, I?d be a millionaire by now.)

Prison is a very insular world, inmates have lots of time on their hands, and grievances, justified or otherwise, have plenty of time to fester. Once sown, they land on very fertile ground, believe you me. Jealousy and envy, however misplaced - Lee was given what is regarded as a plum job in the inmate world - is quite rife on those landings. Lots who go through those gates are suffering from psychiatric problems as well, and it doesn't take much for one person, disturbed or otherwise, to take it upon themselves to administer a little 'rough justice'. There?s also quite a lot of bullying of weaker inmates, as well, and, speaking as someone who knows, you literally need eyes in the back of your head to prevent it happening. Lee hasn?t been given special treatment; he?s just been sent to a place more suited to his security category. To the best of my knowledge he hasn?t attacked, or been lippy, to staff, he hasn?t attacked, or been lippy, to his fellow cons, he?s not exactly Ronald Biggs or Ian Huntley, he?s not mentally ill, it?s his first time inside, so semi-open conditions were an appropriate option in his case. Proper ?bang-up? prisons should be for people who need such secure treatment, and heaven knows there?s enough of them in the system. Hughsie isn?t one. End of message.

Returning to thoughts of tomorrow?s game once more, it looks very much like a case of ?same again? personnel-wise. The only question mark, I reckon, will centre around AJ, who looked distinctly below-par during the Spurs game, and was subbed in the second half. Mind you, there aren?t all that many replacement options available for our leader, so he may well have to stick with what he?s got. Everton? They?ve just paid their best mates Liverpool ?1.5 million for French defender Djimi Traore. He?s still to have a medical, etc. so I wouldn?t really think he?ll be lining up for them tomorrow. Wayne Rooney won?t enter the equation, of course, but the question of whether he?ll still be an Everton player this time next week is certainly creating something of a stink among the Goodison faithful. Sure, if they succumb to the blandishments of either Man U or Newcastle, they?ll have money aplenty to help with their enormous debts, but will that be enough to keep the bankers satisfied, and will Moyes get a cut out of it to reinforce their ranks? And will that Russian deal finally come off? Ooooh, sticky times for The Toffees at the moment, methinks.

They are a very troubled club at the moment, and I?m fervently hoping we can cash in on this tomorrow. My forecast? A yummy one-nil win for us. Oh, and very witty of their unofficial website to offer a ?preview?, sort of, of tomorrow?s game, then announce, ?If you want to go straight to the slagging of their fans, go to Point 5?.? Har, har and double har. Oh, and it?s not ?Geoff Astle?, and no, he didn?t die from Alzheimer?s ? just take a trip up the road to the Medical School, chaps, and they?ll explain to you (in words of one syllable, as you seem to be badly in need of such an explanation), as to the basic pathological and microscopic differences between brain injury caused by long-term repeated blows to the head from a football, and senile cerebella degenerative disease of as-yet-unknown cause.

Now for a few scrummy things about Merseyside you didn?t know. I?m not going for the usual guff about history and so forth, as that?s well known; there?s also more famous people hailing from that area than you can shake a stick at, so I?ll forget that one as well. Try this instead. When travelling around those there parts, you?ll come across a fair number of pubs called ?The Eagle And Child?, to which there?s quite an intriguing story attached. The pub sign does exactly what it says on the tin ? it?s an eagle, with a baby in a basket below ? which is unusual, to say the least, so how come? It?s the crest of Lord Derby, who used to be quite a toff in those parts; I?m not sure whether his descendants are still in the money, but that?s beside the point. What does matter is that the crest was, and still is, as far as I?m aware, known locally as the ?Bird And B*****d?, the latter reference believed to be because of the popular belief that the noble family had within its ranks not a few members born ?on the wrong side of the blanket? so to speak, something reflected in the actual family crest. Allegedly.

And here?s another little-known fact about one of the Lords Derby: at the time of the First World War, in 1914, the then Lord D was a Government bigwig. (He was later responsible for the introduction of semi-conscription, The Derby Scheme, to these shores.) In order to assist the now-famous Kitchener campaign ? Your Country Needs YOU! - in recruiting zillions of men for the conflict, he was instrumental in raising a battalion whose members all came from Merseyside, and although officially part of the Kings Liverpool Regiment, in keeping with the spirit of the time, they were unofficially known as The Liverpool Pals, and remained as such until the end of the conflict, pretty much. And here?s the unusual bit: as an incentive to prospective recruits, Lord Derby paid for a thousand of the new battalion?s cap badges, featuring the family crest, to be made of solid silver. Quite a lot of dosh expended there, even by 1914 standards. This item of uniform was certainly something of a departure from the Army norm: at that time, most cap badges were made of brass. Some still exist to this day (well they must be worth quite a bit of money, now), and are prized collectors? items. There you go, never say this column?s not educational.

And finally?.. One. Our reminder to the E and S about their geographical faux pas when directing geographically-embarrassed Dingles to Turf Moor (see Diaries passim) must have struck home with an almighty wallop because tonight, in the Star, what did I see? Yep, a map showing our travelling faithful the way to Goodison Park! In the middle, as opposed to the sports section, but it?s a start, chaps. But that wasn?t the real reason I?m invoking the mane of our local publication once more; nope, what really grabbed my attention was an article in their ?Homes And Gardens? insert.

It?s not a part of that paper I normally peruse, but thanks to my big sister, we saw it by chance tonight, and in it, was a puff-piece about a brand new ?football-related? product, namely light-switch covers bearing the crest of one?s favourite club. Not so unusual, that, you might think, but what really made me include it in tonight?s effort was the accompanying blurb: ???An extra selling-point is that if your side gets relegated next season, it?s easy to switch allegiance and swap to one of our other club badges?..?

Yep, these marketing people have really tapped into the psyche of football supporters, haven?t they? Any Albion follower worthy of the name would rather suffer death from a thousand lashes than exchange symbols featuring The Shrine and all who play there for, say, stuff bearing the hated crest of The Dingles! And just try telling, say, a Kop-ite to do similar with Everton stuff? Do I get the impression that both those bods and the stuff advertised are expressly of the middle class, ?yeah, I watch footie, me!? Tarquin and Jemima end of the market, and they wouldn?t understand a genuine football supporter even if they were visited in their trendy wine-bars by one? Time to have a good lie down, I think ? but before that ? Number Two!

This one concerns ?Im Indoors, folks. In an attempt to emulate the (very) late King Alfred, he managed to burn a batch of part-baked ciabatta loaves in our oven tonight. Our house currently smells rather like the aftermath of a massed camel-cremation, and it ain?t nice. Even the cats are disgusted by the pong. Please feel free to mock my hubby if you see him tomorrow; after all, you might as well carry on where I?ve left off!

 - Glynis Wright

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