The Diary

20 September 2004: If It's Tuesday, It Must Be Colchester!

Hi there, once more, and welcome to the start of a week that?s going to be an absolute killer for us. Tomorrow, we?re off to Colchester, and then to Newcastle on Saturday. Which, in case you wondered, comes to a grand total of around 800 miles there and back, what with add-ons like chauffeuring around The Fart to his gaff, then back to GD Towers once more chucked in for good measure. A stroll in the park for those living in The Land Of The Free, and our Antipodean friends, of course, but as far as Blighty goes, one helluva lot of miles; almost the total length of Britain, in fact. And, in the case of the former destination, no guarantee we?re going to put out a pukka first string, either ? but see below. To mangle Oscar Wilde slightly, those of an unkind disposition might care to argue it?s the unspeakable in pursuit of the eminently-beatable.

It's precisely because Peace is sitting on the pot but not defaecating that I reckon we'll get a half-decent side for the Colchester game. Megson's job's is still most certainly on the line, and the draw on Saturday wasn't good enough by half to dispel those lingering boardroom doubts. Lose tomorrow, and you might well catch a glimpse of Madame Defarge getting out those knitting-needles, several balls of wool, and a comfy chair to await the arrival of the tumbrel in Halfords Lane.

Having said that, though, it looks as though Kanu may be doubtful ? a ?foot injury?, so rumour has it. Paul Robinson? He?s got a medial ligament problem, according to the club, which isn?t exactly a rapid repair job. When he returns is totally dependent upon the extent of the damage; I reckon you?re looking at several weeks, which is a blow and a half by any other name. The other burning question is the fitness of Houlty, who had to miss Saturday?s fun-fest because of gastroenteritis. Will Meggo leave him out for this one, and stick to our Polish keeper with the unpronounceable name (and unwriteable ? he?s causing me more bother in that direction than did Dick Kryzwicki during the late sixties), or will he revert once more to what he knows?

Earnie definitely won?t be playing as he?s Cup-tied, so, whatever happens, it?s likely to be a Horse-Dobes combo up front tomorrow night. My forecast? I?ve stuck my neck right out by assuming we?ll put out pretty much the usual suspects, and for that reason, I?ve gone for a 3-1 win. Should we not, however, we might be in lumber, despite the fact Colchester lost at home to the MK Dons on Saturday. It really does depend upon how seriously both protagonists regard the whole thing.

And now, a brief look at Colchester. If you?ve never been there before, the one thing that really strikes you when you get there is the presence of the Army in great numbers. Not that this is a modern-day thing; the place has been a garrison town ever since the time of the Romans, and slightly before. Way back in 5 AD, Cunobelin (Shakespeare?s Cymbeline), leader of the British Trinovantes tribe, established himself at what was then called Camulodunum (which means ?Fortress of the war god Camulos?), expanding both his kingdom and trade with the Roman world. Sadly, just like our present-day George Bush, the Romans weren?t exactly overjoyed with the people?s choice of political leader, so they quickly acted to sort things their way, a la Vietnam and Iraq. In 43 AD, the Emperor Claudius led the capture of Camulodunum and took the surrender of 11 British kings at Gosbecks (just south west of the present day town centre). Following that, the Roman Army moved in, and the military association has continued to the present day.

What was everyday existence like for the conquerors of the Brits? Very hard is a pretty fair summation; life in the Roman Army certainly wasn?t the sybaritic one usually portrayed in British Army recruiting literature. Originally, eligibility to join was confined to property owners only, and the minimum term you could serve was a mind-boggling 25 years, but recruitment was sensibly widened to include anyone fit enough to serve around 125 AD. One snag, though; you couldn?t marry until you?d left the army. There wasn?t much scope for promotion, either; if you were good at what you did, you could become a centurion, confusingly in charge of 80 men only, called legionaries. There were around 59 centuries in a legion, and around 30 legions in the entire army, backed up by other soldiers called auxiliary, which included their cavalry.

To show the differences in ranks, centurions carried a special stick denoting who they were. Their idea of military justice was to use it to beat any soldier who disobeyed an order. Not as bad as the Big One, though, commonly known as ?decimation?, in which the commander picked out from the ranks one soldier in ten, to be put to death, in order to exert discipline in the ranks by making an example of them. In the French army, during World War One, the practice once more enjoyed a brief vogue, following the 1917 mutinies in their ranks.

As you?ll readily appreciate from the above, Roman soldiers had to be pretty hard men. They were expected to march 20 miles a day wearing armour, and were also expected to carry their own shield, weapons, plus some food and camping equipment with them on the march, the total weight of which pretty much approximates to the load carried by the present-day lot. Mind you, soldiers are soldiers whatever the century; military life in outposts of empire could be quite lonely so, in an echo of modern-day practice, some Roman mothers would send their sons letters and parcels from Italy to stop them feeling homesick. The wages were good, though, and there were other benefits such as a payment of land or money when soldiers retired. Sons often followed their fathers into the army, which still happens today, of course.

Moving on to the present with great rapidity, in 1884, Colchester was rocked by an almighty earthquake, one of the most powerful ever to hit the British Isles, and much structural damage caused as a result. 1964 saw an earthquake of a different sort; the opening of the University of Essex, which meant loads of long-haired pot-smoking students in the town, which must have bristled the moustaches of apoplectic old colonels a bit. Today, the military presence is everywhere in the town; it?s also very well known amongst soldiers for being the home of the infamous Military Corrective Training Detention Centre, otherwise known as ?the glasshouse?. No longer a place of fear and dread, where awful punishments were perpetrated on errant squaddies ad lib, as depicted in the Sean Connery film ?The Hill?, of course, but it?s certainly no rest-cure for anyone, male or female, invited by court martial to spend a few months behind its walls. How did the term ?glasshouse? arise? Easy ? because the original one, based at Aldershot in the 19th century, had a glass roof, hence the ? erm ? ?nick? name.

See? I told you that Mike Dean, Saturday?s whistler, would be burning the midnight oil in quantity following our game. It now looks as though the FA are going to throw the book at Fulham following the unseemly fracas on Saturday, and their attempt to intimidate the referee following the award of an Albion penalty. One charge is failing to ensure that their players conducted themselves in an orderly fashion and refrained from violent and/or threatening and/or provocative behaviour. They?ve also been charged with failing to comply with the Laws of the Game by not ensuring that Pape Bouba Diop vacated the field of play and technical area following his sending-off.

Andy Cole has also been charged with the use of abusive and/or insulting words to a match official following his sending-off, and, as if that wasn?t enough, due to the seriousness of the offence for which he was dismissed, he has also received a additional charge of violent conduct. As has Clem, of course, but I would argue that as he should never have been booked in the first place for supposed diving in the first half. It certainly didn?t look like an attempt at ?simulation? to me. Collins John later did the same thing, only much more blatantly (no Baggie within touching distance, even, when he dropped), and was never even punished for it. Clem wasn?t the ?last man? anyway, Lloyd Dyer was, so the dismissal was a bit of a nonsense all round. His case will be dealt with via the ?fast track? system, but the Fulham matters certainly won?t be.

In addition, just to put the icing firmly on the disciplinary cake for Chris Coleman, he?s also been charged with a breach of rules for failing to act in the best interests of the game and/or bringing the game into disrepute. The charge relates to his post-match comments about referee Mark Halsey following the match against Arsenal on Saturday 11th September, but I did think on Saturday he was sailing pretty close to the wind on that one also. Whatever the charges, the fact still remains Fulham are now eye-deep in the smelly stuff, and they could be on the receiving end of a very stiff fine indeed, which won?t please their opulent owner one little bit. I await the outcome with interest.

It was very sad to hear, late today, that Brian Clough had popped his clogs at the untimely age of 69, from stomach cancer. What an awful, painful, horrible way to go. I can?t say I was surprised, though; the last time I ever clapped eyes on him, on TV, he was looking a very sick man indeed. Cloughie, I reckon, was a one-off; we?ll never see his like in football management ever again. Too much of a risk for present-day chairmen, are his type, methinks. They don?t suffer fools gladly, for starters. Certainly the FA thought so; twice he was interviewed for the England job, and they bottled it. Had they shown some guts or boldness, and given him the job, who knows what our national side might have gone on to achieve?

I remember, though, above all, his marvellous achievements with both Derby and Forest during the seventies, eighties and early nineties. Derby especially, as he took a club languishing in the bottom half of the then Second Division table, and within the space of a couple of seasons, turned them into one hell of a side. I also remember the Albion Forest 6th Round Cup tie in 1978. Then, Forest were the Arsenal, or Man United of their day, unbeaten in God knows how many games ? and, in a thrilling encounter, we whopped them by the odd goal in three. I also note the fact that after our current leader signed for Cloughie, then Forest manager, he quickly discovered he couldn?t stand the sight of him, and the feeling was mutual, apparently ? a definite clash of very strong egos, there. Just like in ?Highlander?, there could only be one, so Meggo and Cloughie were soon parted. If there is an afterlife, then I?m pretty certain their peace is about to be shattered, big-time. I wonder for how long God will tolerate being called ?young man??

And finally?? One. Went to the chemist today, and at the check-out, was most surprised to be handed a large book, gratis, on dealing with what?s euphemistically described as ?Home Emergencies?. Can?t grumble, though, the thing was supposed to be worth around seventeen quid. On getting it home, I opened this meaty tome, and discovered it?s a very comprehensive publication indeed. Among the contents is advice on dealing with heart attacks, stroke, choking, drowning, all the rest of the usual first-aid gubbins, plus a piece on scorpion stings, would you believe? (Do they know something about global warming I don?t know?) There?s even a section on what to do in the event of disaster, either natural, or man-made, most useful in this age of international terrorism. The trouble was, though, although I searched high and low throughout the entirety of this useful volume, I couldn?t find a single reference on what to do in the event of your football team failing to score goals and pick up Premiership points!

Two. You really couldn?t make it up. Remember when I told you about Dick contributor Norm Bartlam?s woes on the sardine-tinned train to Liverpool, the one that had only two carriages to its name for a 90 mile trip? You do? Good. Then get a bellyful of this down your clack. Central Trains, belatedly recognising that demand vastly outstrips supply on their services, have now finally decided to do something about those vastly overcrowded carriages. Go on, have a guess, what do they deem to be an acceptable solution to the problem? Put on longer trains? Nope. Increase the frequency of services, then? Nope. Instead, what they?re going to do is abolish their cheap day returns! It?s a bit like a publisher cancelling the print run of a popular book just because they can?t keep up with custom for the paperback edition. As Homer Simpson might put it: Doh!

Oh, one other thought. Because I have a medical appointment early on Wednesday, I?m not doing a diary entry for the Colchester game until that night, the reason being I won?t be getting back from there until around two in the morning, and I will be needing my beauty sleep for all those nice folkies with stethoscopes! Back with all the usual stuff on Wednesday evening.

 - Glynis Wright

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