The Diary

01 November 2005: Were-Rabbits now, Were-Magpies Yesterday?

Well, we may have lost heavily yesterday ? in fact, all the Midlands clubs, Villa included (which is another perfectly valid reason why I?m still sniggering a bit tonight) crashed and burned in one way or another over the last three days ? but at least I still retain my full sense of humour. Just as well, really, because earlier on, both of us went to see the latest Wallace And Gromit animation at our local fleapit, a couple of miles down the road.

It?s always one of life?s mysteries to me why it is on one day pure smut will hit my funny-bone, and on another, nothing less than Monty Pythonesque surreality will do the trick, but tonight, make no mistake, it just had to be the Tom and Jerry-style slapstick antics of the famous duo to get me giggling uproariously. That, or a particularly embarrassing home defeat for the Dingles; when it comes to humour, I?m easily pleased. Seriously, though, if you do get the chance, go and see it. No fancy computerised animation, as per Disney, and no-smart-aleck American attempts at humour, either, or fingers-down-throat ?heartwarming? and/or ?morally-uplifting? endings either, just loads of gags, both visual and verbal, and for the adults watching, some really funny spoofs on major monster movies, especially those emanating from the Hammer Studios circa 1960. Gothic? Ish, but great fun.

Another reason why I?m such an ardent admirer of creator Nick Park?s work is because around thirty years ago, when I was a student, I had to make a cartoon short as part of my final assessment for an arty-farty subsidiary subject I was taking. The way I did it ? and I?m no expert, believe you me ? was to make loads of painstaking cartoon drawings showing the characters in action, each successive one drawn slightly differently, until I had the semblance of movement I wanted, and when you realise the average movie film speed is 24 frames per second, you begin to fully understand what a monumental chore it is. Click on a single frame, replace old drawing with slightly different new one, then click again, change, and again, until the whole awful business is finished ? or your brain gets so addled by this endless mind-numbing routine, only a liberal dosage of alcohol taken in the Union Bar will alleviate the worst of the symptoms. Mine ? cartoon film, not symptoms - only lasted some three or four minutes, but Aardman Animations go for well over an hour; their basic technique, although working with plasticine rather than pen and ink, isn?t all that dissimilar to the one I used. No wonder it took them the best part of three years to make the bugger. Respect? In heaps.

There was yet another purpose to my cinema-going tonight, though, and that was to shake the dust of our latest defeat completely out of my system, which Nick Park et. al. succeeded brilliantly. And I still maintain we weren?t worth a three-goal trouncing without reply yesterday evening. As far as I was concerned, yesterday saw us play some of the most entertaining stuff I?ve seen this season, especially during the first half, so I still remain an adherent to the school of thought that maintains we?ve put on much worse displays than yesterday, and maybe got something undeserved as a result. It?s with that in mind I?ve put my money where my mouth is, and told The Fart to book me up for West Ham on Saturday, as per my original request. This he?s done, it?s going to cost me ?45 when I see him next, that being this coming Thursday evening, so Upton Park here I come. I?ve also been commissioned to write a piece for one of the Hammers publications, the Ironworks Gazette, so I suppose I?ve got a bit of a moral obligation to attend also. ?Im Indoors? He?s very much the stay-at-home Baggie this time, and this Saturday?s caper will mean my attending a senior Albion game without him for the very first time since 1992, when we played Preston North End at Deepdale.

Having allowed a reasonable length of time to pass since our defeat, I guess what happened is down to a couple of things, really. First off, when it comes to strikers, you get what you pay for; in the blue corner, there?s little Earnie, who came to us for relative peanuts, has a distinctly-ropey first touch, but is fast and means well, and in the black and white striped corner you have the lad Owen, for whom The Toon paid something in the region of 18 million, and, as we saw yesterday, proved as deadly as a striking cobra given even half a sniff at the pot. As for Sheringham, well, getting past it or not, there won?t be many better slotting ?em in at the wrong end of the park this season. My second observation? At least Big Dave was honest by freely admitting to the media that a large chunk of what happened during that fraught second half was basically down to him; a shame some of his colleagues couldn?t have been as equally-candid in their own assessments of what went wrong yesterday.

At the moment, we?re badly missing Gera, Albrechtsen and the now-suspended Robinson, plus Kirkland, of course. Possibly, you might want to argue that the loss of the third on my list was the vastly more damaging one of the entire lot, even more annoying when you stop and consider what led up to the ref showing the lad the dreaded red in the first place. How far is the mighty Zoltan away from full fitness, now, I wonder? Hope it?s not too long before we can rely on his attacking midfield services once more. And I also hope we now spend a good deal of time sorting out that horrible tendency we displayed yesterday of succumbing courtesy of near-post crosses. Young Earnie?s first touch might have been found a little wanting, shall we say, but the likes of Owen and Shearer certainly didn?t have any problems in that department. Sure, such things are difficult to defend, but we are in what?s arguably the best competition in the world, and with that sort of player, you really have to mark them right out of existence: if you don?t, then you?re toast. Fact.

There is common ground, though, and that?s the inclusion of Inamoto in the side for our next awayaday, versus West Ham. Not only did the lad save us from a bigger tonking with that timely header off the line of his, he was very unlucky with that almighty belter of his, the one that took a deflection, and ended up in Earnie?s path instead. Sure, he did put in a number of passes that were, quite frankly, awful, but when I say that, I also have in my head a particularly superb diagonal effort, one that went with consummate ease from one side of the ground to the other, real ?ball on a sixpence? stuff; the last time I saw one of ours as accurate as that, it was none other than Bobby Hope doing the passing.

On the whole, I?m still fairly upbeat about how things are panning out; despite the setbacks. The situation regarding morale seems heaps better than the one that prevailed some twelve months previously, also the improved quality of the players we now have, given injuries and suspensions haven?t really helped much either. Hopefully, our gaffer has now got his penchant for capriciously chopping and changing the side right out of his system, and once we get key personnel up and running once more, we can then start grabbing ourselves a few more points.

Oh, and some late news just in?. I?ve just spotted something on the mailing-list to the effect that SuperBob, who now plays for Tamworth, of course, was convicted of drink-driving last Friday, then fined and banned. He was also left out of the squad for their Saturday Conference visit to Exeter City ?because he was not mentally prepared for the game?. Given the potentially-explosive nature of this post, I naturally checked it out with The Lambs? Official website immediately, but yep ? the statement?s there in black and white, so the gen?s genuinely pukka. Apparently, Bob has now been given two weeks off by Tamworth in order to deal with what the statement says is ?his problems?. He?s also given the club an assurance this will never happen again. Oh dear.

While not wanting to appear for either prosecution or defence in this matter, what I would like to say by way of comment is this: after what happened to Lee Hughes, whose irresponsible behaviour brought about the untimely death of a perfectly innocent person, I would have thought Bob would have had more than ample reason to lay off the sauce before getting in front of the wheel. And profound disappointment; next to The King, Bob is one of my all-time Albion heroes, and it ill-befits such iconic status to see someone as talented and personable as he suddenly develop feet of clay. I can only hope that Bob quickly overcomes whatever is troubling him right now; I?ll be rooting for him, of course, and I?m sure just about every Baggie reading this will join me in those sentiments.

And Finally?.. One. Oh dear ? you really can?t get the informants these days. Remember yesterday, when I told you that our chain-smoking chum Andy had informed me that Shaun Cunnington was now manager at Willenhall? Oh no he ain?t ? he is, in fact, head honcho at Alvechurch, a completely different kettle of ex-Baggie rest-home. The worrying aspect of all this is the fact that yesterday, I spotted both he and Tim Joyner earnestly studying train times to Kiddy and back ? apparently, Andy was minded to take in a future reserve game or three there, and wanted to check with Tim, who lives in those there parts, if he could get back to Brum OK after the final whistle. Tell you what, Andy ? in view of the clanger you dropped with us, are you REALLY sure you got those train times right? If not, it?s going to be a long cold night on Kiddy station!

Two?. A word about George Best and his recent serious illness. He seems to be a little more out of danger, now, but last Friday, it was looking very much as though the obituary writers would have their work cut out over the next few days. And that wasn?t all; also in close proximity were several tabloid columnists, all of whom had seriously-vulpine leanings, and all rushing in mob-handed to declare, somewhat viciously in my opinion, that as Best?s illness was drink-related, it damn well served him right, or words to that effect.

Er ? not quite so, actually. Clearly, none of these people had bothered to check their facts with their medical correspondent colleagues, all of whom, presumably, got their jobs because of their detailed knowledge and understanding of medically-related topics. Or maybe not ? but that?s another matter entirely. The thing is, a little more careful checking and a little less expectant circling would have quickly revealed that the former Ireland and Manchester United player had landed up in intensive care because of the immunosuppressive drugs he was taking because of the transplant, and not because of the prime reason for the original surgery. Even his specialist had said as much on TV. In other words, the medication had overwhelmed his immune system so much, it couldn?t then deal with a common-or-garden infection, which subsequently went ?whoopee!? then ran riot throughout his body, of course.

I suppose you could, in a very convoluted way, argue that drink was the real cause of his recent illness: in other words, he would never have got the infection had it not been for the transplant, and he wouldn?t have had the transplant had it not been for the cirrhotic liver that was killing him, and he wouldn?t have had the liver problem had he not?.. Quite. But if we all took to such anal-retentive navel-gazing, none of us would ever get very far, would we? The point is, now, that when Best finally recovers, he?s going to be made very well aware of what the tabloid vulture tendency had to say about his stay in intensive care, none of it strictly true, and a good deal downright vicious and spiteful. A long telephone call to Messrs. Sue, Grabbit and Runne might therefore swiftly follow: just watch this space.

 - Glynis Wright

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