The Diary

27 October 2005: Look On The Bright Side - At least We Can't Draw Chelsea!

Before I get onto the main business of the day, a quick word about tonight?s League Cup doings, in which Chelsea were surprisingly given the bum?s rush by Charlton Athletic, on penalties. So that?s one less to worry about, then. Not so Man U, who demolished poor Barnet 4-1 at Old Trafford, one of the visitors getting his marching orders after only two minutes had elapsed. I couldn?t help but notice Kieran Richardson was one of the goalscorers, which means even more that our chances of landing him in the January sales are now about as remote as that of a snowball surviving in Hell. I did grab the chance to take in the first half of the Grimsby-Newcastle encounter on the box, though. Of one thing I?m certain; The Toon?s Alan Shearer won?t exactly be hankering to return to Blundell Park after what happened to him during the latter stages of the first half.

There had already been a fair portion of bad blood established between him and one of the Grimsby lads ? and in fact, Shearer did try to apologise after the event ? but the mauled Mariner simply bided his time. The next time the pair of them went up for the same ball ? WHACK! A pretty good attempt to fit a complete elbow into Shearer?s mouth, I thought, and the results were impressively-bloody. Normally, I would have expected to see the offender take an early bath, or at the very least, get a booking ? but in this case, the ref, stood only a few yards away, did sod-all about it. Astonishing. No wonder Shearer spent the remainder of the half telling the match official his probable fortune. And wiping his by-now bloodied mouth. Mind you, Shearer didn?t half have a fat lip after that, and one that bled for quite some time after the incident in question, so I suppose he?d got every justification to feel aggrieved.

What did annoy me about Shearer, though, was the fact he kept whingeing to the ref about what had happened, long after it did. OK, because of what he did, the guy shouldn?t have remained on the field, by rights, but that?s life in the football business, sometimes. ?Blartin? like a big soft babby?, as my late mother would have put it, never gets you anywhere. I am inclined to go with what The King once said to me about players who did that kind of thing on the sly, ?The best way of getting back at them is sticking the ball right into the back of the net,? said he, and, with around ten to go, that?s precisely what Shearer did. A much more effective revenge, in my opinion. One-nil to The Toon was the final score; let?s just hope we don?t get ?em in Saturday?s draw. Into the last 16, we are ? coo, it?s starting to get serious.

It?s now been around 24 hours since I learned of our wonderful win at Craven Cottage, and great has been my pleasure reading about it in both the Guardian and the Mirror. What thrilled me so much was not so much the fact we did triumph, but that our gaffer finally saw sense and gave Inamoto a chance to shine. What the hell he?d done to incur such a great dollop of managerial wrath between the Man City opener and now, I couldn?t even begin to imagine. That sending off of Paul Robinson?s was, I?ve now discovered, the end result of an opponent deliberately shoving him right into some advertising hoardings lining the ground. Very painful, I would imagine, which is presumably why the lad seemed to lose it so badly. Not so good is the inevitable sequel; a three-game ban ? and just when we need him and his defensive skills, versus Newcastle next Sunday, and West Ham on November 5, then Everton on November 19.. I?ve also been told that Ronnie Wallwork had a pretty good game last night; if that?s really the case, can we stop all that awful booing, now, please? Next Sunday would be a nice place to start. Stopping, I mean.

I?ve also now had chance to see all three strikes on Midlands Today; good to see Earnie so confident in rounding the keeper and putting the ball where it rightfully belonged, and well done to our diminutive Oriental lad for threading through that killer ball so accurately. Too comical for words was the monumental Fulham goalkeeping clanger that led to us taking the lead with around two minutes of normal time still remaining. Not so good was letting Fulham in to equalise in the second minute of injury time: OK, I?ll put my hands up and admit I wasn?t there, but it certainly didn?t strike me as the most professional thing to allow to happen. Still, I?m prepared to forgive anyone for the winning strike, courtesy of that Inamoto Banzai charge right through the middle of the Fulham ranks. Wonderful stuff, Robbo. Now don?t y?all let him be a stranger to the side come Sunday, now, ya hear?

Today, as promised, I spent a few more hours in the library, doing research for my other half. It?s been a bloody long time since I had to do such things ? around the time I was a student was the last occasion, I reckon ? but it?s gradually coming back to me, the sheer enjoyment of ferreting out obscure details concerning the matter in hand, in this case, Tommy Magee and Harold Bache (yes, I still haven?t quite finished, there). It was primarily because of Harold Bache I was examining the doings of the town in early 1916 ? and what a sad and gloomy place West Bromwich was becoming. All because of the war, of course, which was stepping up another gear on the Western Front. Not surprisingly, some local lads, now in uniform, discovered they didn?t really want to participate in an all-found trip to the Continent at government expense; the magistrates court section of the paper was absolutely stuffed solid with cases of locally-born absentees being remanded to await a military escort. And deserters: did these people realise that by deserting, they stood a very good chance indeed of being sentenced to death by court-martial?

Conscription in all but name, in the form of what was called The Derby Scheme, now loomed ? and accounts of tribunals convened to hear cases concerning those who wanted to register as conscientious objectors also began to fill the pages. By now, news of the real horror of trench warfare was gradually percolating through to those left behind, and that naturally made other eligible lads reluctant to volunteer. Just before Lord Derby finally got his way, the Chronicle was full of increasingly-desperate pleas from various arms of the military for good lads to join them quickly, and by doing so, avoiding the rush expected with the advent of compulsion. But still there were local families proud to boast sons serving ?over there?. One such extended brood had no less than six grandsons in the armed forces, 1 captain, 4 lieutenants, and one private. Whether or not they all lived to tell the tale is another matter entirely.

And not all the war?s casualties were in the front line. There was one particularly sad case, heard at Worcester Assizes, concerning a West Bromwich man who pleaded guilty to attempting suicide. (Back then, it was a criminal offence to try and top yourself, an archaic and vindictive bit of legislation only removed from the statute book as late as the early sixties, surprisingly enough.) The reason given to the court? Long hours spent working in a munitions factory. That, from his wife who, unbelievably, was told by court officials she had absolutely no choice but to testify against him. Must have improved his mental condition no end, that, not to mention that of his poor missus. Fortunately, the presiding judge was a sensible sort of cove, only biding the poor man over in the sum of ten shillings in default, which was, the acquisition of a criminal record apart, effectively a judicial slap on the wrist.

Strangely enough, there were still relatively gung-ho accounts of life in the trenches, much sanitised, of course, written by locally-born soldiers, appearing in the publication. Other sundries included some very strange recipes indeed, very heavy on carbohydrates, and very light on protein in the form of meat, the unfortunate knock-on effect of the German attempt at a submarine blockade, which was now beginning to really bite. There was also an advert offering insurance against attack by Zeppelins; a recent such raid on the area had killed 54 and injured 67. Treats for war widows and wounded soldiers, of one sort or another, featured heavily also. And, such was the pernicious effect of the war on so many aspects of everyday life, it was now deemed a criminal offence to ?neglect work?. In one such case, brought before the magistrates, a local man was fined ?7.15 shillings, with costs.

And that is just about it. Back next Saturday night, and nicely in time for the Newcastle caper. Let?s hope we have a better game plan in the pipeline than Grimsby?s tonight, mind. Clocking Shearer in the mouth right in front of the TV cameras, and with the entire nation watching, wouldn?t exactly be the brightest thing to do, now, would it?

And finally..... As per usual, Cyrille, my black tom cat, has neatly anticipated the fact I've nearly finished writing tonight's piece by suddenly getting up from his normal perch in front of the keyboard, and starting to purr. All that, wthout my letting slip, by either word or deed, anything whatoever to indicate my true intentions. Just one thing, then - how the frigging hell does he know?

 - Glynis Wright

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