The Diary

19 August 2006: Goldberg Goes Large On Glazer, Darren Moore Goes Big On Derby. Tomorrow? Who Knows!

Tonight, this epistle is brought to you hard on the back of our visiting the Midlands Arts Centre at Cannon Hill, Brum, earlier tonight, along with a very-bunged-up Mister Fart, plus Dot, his (non-bunged-up) missus. A very arty-crafty sort of venue, ?tis true, but the main reason we went there in the first place was very much in connection with the beautiful game and all those who sail in it. Blame our old mucker Adrian Goldberg, former GD editor back in the days when Adam was a lad, the sky was blue, and Rupert Murdoch and Sky had yet to sink their thorny tentacles into the corpulent flesh of what was to eventually become the Premier league. He?s now quite a well-known media personality, especially with the Beeb, is Ade, but I remember the days when??..

The venture he?s now dipping his tentative leetle toes into is that of documentary film, and one very much with a football angle to it. It also concerns an emotive subject that many supporters have strong opinions about, the pervasive and pernicious influence multi-millionaire buyers not born in the UK have had on some clubs, with particular reference to Manchester United, post Glazer take-over, and Wimbledon, now removed to Milton Keynes in somewhat controversial circumstances. Whisper it quietly, but there?s also considerable food for thought for our clapping-and-stamping near-neighbours, so recently the subject of a similar buy-out, of course.

As for the film itself, it lasted around an hour, with a discussion afterwards from the floor led by Ade, and involving amongst others, the bloke who was the brains behind the AFC United concept, and covering in some detail the torrid circumstances surrounding the Glazer buy-out, and what some Mancs quickly perceived to be the total sell-out of what was their club to the almighty dollar. It?s indicative of the universal unpopularity of the Glazers that when Adrian took his cameras along to Bearwood High Street, armed with two collection buckets, one labelled ?The Glazer Fighting Fund? and the other ?The Saddam Hussein Fighting Fund?, it was revelatory that after an hour of filming/collecting, Ade found the Saddam Hussein receptacle to have accreted far more money than the one allegedly meant for the Yank/Manc moneybags!

Not that the more astute members of the United supporter-base just stood passively and let what they perceived to be a total sell-out happen, mind. After seeing Glazer take over, and land the club in massive debt for the first time ever in its entire existence ? all monies owed to be recouped directly from the pockets of those buying season-tickets etc.- a bit of a backlash movement quickly developed, and it all centred around a completely new and different United football set-up called AFC United, control of which now rests completely with the ordinary supporter, unlike the multi-million Old Trafford business concern that followers of the ?other? club used to patronise every fortnight.

They first set up shop in a local Lancashire League some nine layers below the Prem, but have since gone through that like a dose of salts, as champions, no less ? and, according to Adrian?s many vox-pops conducted at their ground, the ?refusenik? Mancs that first started the ball rolling are now having an absolute whale of a time supporting their brainchild on the rocky path that eventually leads to Football League status. Hopefully. No nonsense about having to buy expensive season tickets any more either, just turn up at the turnstiles on the day, being able to stand at games once more, having a proper drink in civilised surroundings beforehand, watching a side perform that?s not doing it primarily for a hugely-inflated salary, and certain in the knowledge that everybody?s pulling together for the good of the side, and not for some money-grabbing bloke in a grey suit living thousands of miles from these shores ? that?s the real attraction. Similarly, the other ?breakaway side?, AFC Wimbledon, are also tearing through their bit of the pyramid that leads to the League like there?s no tomorrow, and it?s interesting to note that both clubs commonly get better gates than some ?pukka? League sides do!

The film also looked at Barcelona FC, winner of far more silverware than there is to be found in Buck House these days, and oozing money from every pore. But there is one fundamental difference between them and the vast majority of top British sides, mind ? at Barca, every supporter has a say in who gets to run the club, and has full voting powers. And it doesn?t just stop there ? any supporter can, if they so wish, put up for election to their Board. Similarly, should current incumbents not come up to scratch, they can be voted off just as easily ? truly supporter-power as it should be.

In short, Ade has made a pretty thought-provoking documentary about a subject that often affects football supporters these days, especially those who follow the nation?s top sides, and normally to the complete and utter detriment of their wallets. The top and bottom line is the conclusion that football at that level is fast becoming a cash-cow for a few rapacious people, all at the expense of genuine supporters, and little or nothing?s being done by any of the game?s leaders to stop the rot, hence the movement, rapidly gathering momentum, to return the game to the supporters who make it the wonderful spectacle it can be.

The word is spreading, mind ? lower down the divisions are five or six other lesser-lights who have gone down that road already. Ade went large on Brentford, now owned and run by their supporters, but there are others out there just as happy with the new situation. But enlightenment has still to reach the mainstream media, sadly. Apparently, when the film was at the planning stage, Adrian touted the concept among the BBC?s hierarchy, with a view towards getting their vast resources on board ? but was told that unless Alan Hansen fronted the production, did the commentary etc. he?d got no chance. They really don?t get it, do they?

As for the rest of our doings ? what a wonderful week it?s been. NOT! First of all, there was poor Cyrille ? my black cat, not the former Baggies striker, of course - and a stonking great vet?s bill to pay after the surgery he had earlier this week. Three rotten teeth out was the essence of the deal, so I can only assume he?s now having to either gum or suck all his rodent victims to death. As I write, he?s busily engaged in the process of seeing off yet another of his furry victims downstairs by one or both of those methods, so I guess the surgery can?t have done him all that much harm, can it? Mind you, once I?d seen the bill, the vet wasn?t all that far short of performing yet another couple of clinical procedures on me ? treatment for profound shock on receipt of the bloody bill, plus that of extracting money from my reluctant purse with the absolute minimum of pain. Ouch!

The other incident I would much rather have rather done without this week? Three days ago, I had a call from one of my two elder sisters to say that the other one had been taken to hospital with alarming symptoms ? as some of you might well be reading this shortly after a meal of some description, I won?t bother you with the details - of what truly promised to brew up as a bona-fide medical emergency given half a chance. As she was well and truly ?out of it?, having had an anaesthetic on the Tuesday, I postponed visiting until the following evening: when I finally got to see her, she?d got over the worst of the problem, and was very much back to her old self once more ? and already trying to figure out ways of having a crafty fag in the middle of the night without upsetting the hospital hierarchy too much while she was at it. And succeeding, too ? the art of human ingenuity and imagination truly knoweth no bounds when confronted with such a vexing problem, believe you me.

A damn good sign she?s now back in the land of the living, if ever there was one. I did feel sorry for her hubby, though ? he?s been having to fix his meals for himself while she?s been there. Mostly ?things-on-toast? and takeaways, apparently, him not being of the stuff of which future Jamie Olivers are made! Just as well that she was released from ?durance vile? after just three days, then, wasn?t it? Incidentally ? and I am being dead serious for once ? much respect to the nursing staff on Linden 5 Ward. Not because of having to cope with my sister, honest, but for the superb patience and professionalism shown by them when having to deal with a confused, demented ? and therefore extremely difficult to manage ? old lady occupying the next bed to my poorly sis.

Over the course of the entire 90 minutes or so I was with my elder sibling the other night, the nursing staff must have had to attend to her needs/prevent her from falling out of bed/wandering around the ward/ swearing at the other patients and visitors/ pinching stuff from other patients? bedside lockers etc. more times than I?ve had hot dinners. Had it been me having to cope with all that disruption, I reckon I?d have reached for the lethal pills long before then.

Even The Fart seems to have had problems of a medical nature of late. A rotten shame, that, as he?d agreed to come with us to Thursday?s Sutton Branch meeting. Again, it was yet another phone call earlier in the week that imparted the gloomy tidings. A stinking rotten cold was the problem this time ? I can only assume that all the micro-organisms responsible were very ancient and venerable ones. I can just hear them all whooping with joy upon entering The Fart?s upper respiratory tract ? Bug Number One: ?Cor, cop a load of this one, Fred ? haven?t had so much fun since the 1918 Spanish Flu epidemic!?

Bug Number Two: ?Yeah, all them lovely pensioned-off nose and throat cells to infect ? great! Tell you what? I?m going to give the missus a ring right now and tell her and the kids to come over for a damn good meal, the daft old bat?s always complainin? I never take her anywhere???

If it?s the football season, and Thursday evening, then it?s got to be Sutton Branch, albeit removed to a strange new location, in Mere Green, on the other side of Sutton Coldfield. The reason for Mandy et.al striking their tents in the hours of darkness and, like so many Arabic nomads in the Sahara Desert, then pitching them elsewhere come the following sunrise? Apparently, their former home, The Royal, right in the middle of Sutton, suddenly decided that their normal venue had been previously pre-booked, but Mandy does get distinct vibes from the management there that their presence won?t be made so welcome this time round. Hence the last-minute change of venue, to the Plough And Harrow.

Not the most ideal of places, as Mandy and her crew were to quickly discover; on arrival there, they found the function-room still kitted out as a children?s room, only three chairs there, and the rest of the space taken up with toys of varying descriptions ? and kids playing with ?em! Oh ? and there was a general-knowledge quiz in the bar scheduled to go off a bit later that particular evening, and as sure as eggs is eggs ? didn?t you just know it? ? the thoughts of Darren Moore were halted slightly in their tracks by the loudly-amplified voice of the quiz-master asking contestants various historical, scientific and geographical posers, with a soupcon of what might be termed ?trivia? thrown in for good measure. Oh ? and kids in the play area outside thinking it big and clever to shout things through the (open for ventilation: it was a muggy sort of night) fire-exit that abutted directly onto said facility. My understanding is that Mandy is now, like ?Ole Bill. Of World War One cartoon fame, ?looking for a better ?ole. All suggestions to her, please, and not to me.

Even finding the place proved fraught for this column plus ?Im Indoors: once at Wylde Green, we drew to a juddering halt not far from Richard Sneekes?s restaurant, owing to misplacing the road we were supposed to follow. After what might be termed a ?heated discussion?, we finally got going again, hitting the pub a tad later than we normally would; by that time, the committee were in full flow with all the preliminaries, and we were about the last bodies to turn up. Perhaps we should emulate my poorly sister and get a blasted Satnav for our car after all?

So what did Big Dave have to say about Life, The Football Universe, and Everything? First thing ? his nickname at Derby is not Big Dave anymore, but ?Mister ?T?? as per the B.A. Baracus character that was popular back in the early eighties, as part of TV?s ?A? Team. Aw, you remember that, surely? Darren reckons he?s going to buy himself a chunky-looking gold chain or three soon, just to live up to the image!

He?s enormously enjoying his new incarnation at Derby, apparently, and reckons that the Pride Park side are going to be there or thereabouts come the end of the current season, although he does tip Albion to go up automatically, and Derby to do it via the play-offs, maybe. As most Albion people with any common sense at all have already opined, our chances are going to hinge very much on whether or not we can get a striker of quality into the club. And, with the transfer deadline looming ominously ? we?re still waiting, of course.

The lad Derby have manage to prise from the clutches of Arsene Venger ? and ourselves, as we were chasing his body also - the 19 years of age Lupoli, Darren reckons to be, potentially, a very good prospect indeed, which makes our failure to capture him all the more galling. Darren rates him very highly indeed, not to mention Wenger, who reckons The Rams have signed just about the best young striking prospect in that division they could ever wish for, but still can?t understand what the difficulty is regarding our own inability to land such a valuable prize. As he told it, the reason we didn?t get Rossi in exchange for the Pole In Goal was primarily because that by the time Robson had asked for him, Fergie had already made up his mind that Rossi would be featuring in some of United?s senior games at some point or another this term.

Darren also revealed that when with the Baggies, he?d given current striker Nathan Ellington, who Wigan are trying to prise away from the club right now, some words of advice, mostly centred around ?keeping his game simple? i.e. getting the ball to within striking distance in the box, then, instead of trying to beat the additional defender there, just making space and letting fly instead. Apparently, Nathan is one of God?s own footballing rarities, a chap who can use either foot to good striking effect: couple that with an absolute humdinger of a shot that has the nasty habit, for defenders and keepers, of taking a last-minute dip before arriving at its chosen destination, and by rights, he should be busting the net every single time. And Darren did point out to him that as a defender, and one who?d been around for an awfully long time at that, he was a pretty good authority on knowing what defenders hated playing against the most! He did finish with that particular topic, though, by intimating that Albion still had a couple of irons left in the fire, and hopefully, something positive would materialise before too long.

Other topics? The subject of managers ? who was good at their job, and who less so ? came up, of course, which produced forth from Darren sundry thoughts about Gary Megson and his time at Albion. Darren was of the opinion that Gary set such high standards for everyone, it was when he suspected that players weren?t seeking to achieve those standards that trouble started brewing for the player concerned. He does really rate the current Derby gaffer, though ? apparently, his style revolves around watching the techniques of bigger, more successful sides, either home or abroad, it doesn?t matter a flying fornication ? and adapting those techniques for eventual use at their level. He also sets great store by knowing absolutely everything there is to know about the forthcoming opposition?s players, strengths, weaknesses, the lot. Expect to see Big Dave roped in for input purposes when the time comes for us to play them ? which won?t be all that long, if I remember my fixture list correctly.

Talk about our former leader then moved onto thoughts about Megson?s footballing Nemesis, Neil Warnock, of Sheffield United, and how his style would pan out in the Prem. Darren was of the opinion that Neil?s game-plan primarily revolved around psychology, trying to win the mental battle with opposing players and managers before a ball was kicked, even. If that?s the case, then I eagerly await the meeting of both Chelsea?s Mourhino and Warnock with great interest. Having those two facing one another in their respective dugouts is a bit like having a couple of bits of enriched uranium all lined up in a metal tube, and all set to create a bloody great hole in the ground once made to bang together! Darren was of the belief that most Premiership players and managers were quite capable of rebutting such naughty tactics, and Sheffield United?s volatile leader might find he?d bitten off more than his (cavernous!) mouth could chew.

There were also memories of the so-called ?Battle Of Bramall Lane?, and Big Dave?s thoughts on that, including some of the naughty tactics Warnock was trying on in order to limit the damage somewhat. It seemed to me that both managers mutually detested the sight of each other ? it didn?t help that Warnock was, basically, a Blades supporter who had, unlike most, actually got to see his wet dream realised, and Megson, of course, had a pretty solid Sheffield Wednesday background (whisper it quietly, but I can genuinely remember his dad playing for The Owls back in the late sixties!). That alone made the combination a pretty explosive one.

Darren?s future once he?s hung up his boots? He does plan to go into management himself ? and, much to my surprise, he already has the necessary coaching badges under his belt. Although I didn?t say anything at the time, I can?t help but wonder as to whether or not his ambitions in that direction might be stymied by what appears to be a ?glass ceiling? for prospective managers who happen to be either black, or from other ethnic minorities.

Certainly, I?ve heard it said by at least one black managerial hopeful in recent years, serially-rebuffed by various clubs, that there was such a thing among all those chairman less-enlightened, shall we say. Those are strictly my thoughts, mind, not Darren?s ? please note. After all, correct me if I?m wrong, but the only coloured manager I?ve ever seen perform at Premiership level is one Ruud Gullit; all the rest have entered the game at the basement level or one rung better, perhaps, but Lincoln City excepted ? theirs got The Imps to the play-offs on several occasions recently ? no-one else seems to have lasted at that level long enough to make a permanent impact. One other thought; tongue-in-cheek or not, Darren reckons he?d dearly like to come back to The Hawthorns ? but as a gaffer! Eek!

There were also his thoughts about the total impasse currently achieved between Jason Koumas, who most certainly doesn?t want to be a Baggie right now, and Bryan Robson, who is seemingly determined not to allow him to have his own way over this matter; his thoughts very much chime with ours, that Jason should simply get his head down and concentrate on doing a good job for us, then worry about getting away afterwards.(Latest news is that (as of Friday evening) Cardiff Chairman Sam Hamman has now stated he?s given up on hopes of signing Mister Koumas, so unless this represents yet another twist and turn in the frenetic haggling and bargaining surrounding this issue, then Mister Koumas will have no choice but to knuckle down with us for at least the next four months.) All that plus sundry ones about Lee Hughes, whom he?ll be going to visit very shortly.

Before the proceedings closed for the night, Mandy was able to present to Darren a cheque from Sutton Branch for his ?Faith In Football? charity. Darren himself said that one of the most strange experiences in his whole life had been sleeping under canvas the time he and Linvoy Primus sought to walk the Great Wall Of China; on the one hand battling through temperatures constantly in the high twenties and low thirties by day, dropping precipitously to minus one or two Centigrade by night ? quite a contrast just days after emerging a hero versus Crystal Palace, scoring the first of a wonderful brace, thereby taking the Baggies into the Prem for the very first time in their entire history.

So what?s going to happen tomorrow, then? Colchester United are the opponents, ?tis true, but without anyone out there getting the goals in a consistent manner, you can?t exactly capitalise on the possibility of turning them over, can you? It was noticeable that once Nathan Ellington went off at Southampton with that hamstring problem, all hopes of coming home bearing three points more or less flew out of the window with him, so what?s going to happen tomorrow, I absolutely dread to think. I strongly suspect that tomorrow, United will put everybody behind the ball, then defend to the death. They?ll be relying greatly upon the fact that after, say, 20 minutes gone, and no goal, the crowd will then turn restless, and the players, picking up strong vibes to that effect, and knowing the fast-rising expectation-level out there, will completely blow it. I strongly suspect that to be the case tomorrow, which will mean either the narrowest of victories, or, God help us all, a Colchester shock-win by the narrowest of margins.

The word on the internet is that there?s going to be some sort of a protest going off tomorrow should we not manage to bring home the bacon. That?s what happens when supporters lacking a ?voice? ? see above - get frustrated with what?s going down with the club, but I do sincerely hope that such unseemly activities don?t materialise. Once you start breaking the law, you?ve lost forever any genuine chance of holding what?s commonly known as the ?moral high ground?, and I?d really like to think we Baggies were a little bit above that sort of thing by now. Well do I remember all the unseemly protests of the Gould era, and the huge amount of bad feeling that generated. Perhaps one poster?s opinion is the correct one ? the time to make such views well known are if we?re still in the same boat come the closure of that ?window?, but until that day comes, and no new blood up front, perhaps we would be doing the club much more of a service by giving the vocals great big licks as per usual.

Oh ? incidentally, it?s got to be a sign of the times when our favourite football club plonks TWO little booths just inside the Astle Gates, both of which are there for the purposes of facilitating ticket sales on the day: indeed, prospective punters are told to go there rather than to the ticket office proper, as they?re much more likely to get served quicker. That facility is above and beyond similar situated outside the Smethwick, of course. The message is further reinforced by a bloody great banner on the nearby fence inviting ?casual? followers to give the club their custom tomorrow. Not exactly the sexiest Albion fixture in the current calendar, is this one, and should our striking difficulties not be resolved to anyone?s satisfaction come the end of the current transfer window, it wouldn?t surprise me at all to encounter a hell of a lot more gaps among all those shiny blue seats come the advent of autumn and winter.

And Finally?.. One. Anybody out there know anything about ignitions for coal-and-flame-effect gas fires? A genuine query, this one, as the other day, when trying to change the battery over on the one we?ve got, the small rectangular terminal from the fire that connects up to the battery-driven ignition done gone and clean broke in my hand, which means I now lack the very means of attaching the battery necessary for starting the damn thing off the very first time it goes cold again.

All it needs is for a new terminal connecting up to the wires, into which one can plug in battery terminals, both positive and negative, as and when required, and which, when properly pristine once more, completes the electrical circuit that fires the pilot light that fires the main gas supply to the burners that warm the artificial coals and flames that heat the room that Jack ? or whichever silly sod did, way back in the early 1900?s ? built. When the thing broke before, Norm, Simon?s mum?s feller, a bloke very handy indeed with most things electrical, kindly soldered the two sides of the blasted terminal together for us ? but, even with the best will in the world, it was a most flimsy connection to behold, which is why it?s gone again. Any info on where to get a replacement and how to fit same very gratefully received, honest!

Two?. Remember what I said about Pluto and the danger of that planet being ?relegated? to the astronomical ?Conference?? Well, the recent recommendation from the body that decides such things is that good old Pluto won?t lose its top-flight status after all; instead, the current Solar System will be enlarged to incorporate twelve planets, and not nine, the situation that prevails today. So where are the newbies located, then?

First off is Ceres, much bigger than Pluto, and found in the huge bit of space that lies between the orbits of Mars and Jupiter. It was originally classed as an ?asteroid?, located by astronomers in the early 19th century, at first thought to be a planet in its own right, but subsequently discovered to be one of the biggest chunks of rock among all the thousands of much smaller ones comprising what?s commonly known as the ?Asteroid Belt?. Effectively, it?s now been ?voted into the League?. (If ever a manned spacecraft has to poke its way through all that little lot at any time in the future, then God help it. Ahead would lie the astronomical equivalent of the icebergs that eventually did for the Titanic.)

The second, third and fourth? Pluto itself, plus its little moon, Charon, with Xena - the one named after the ?Warrior Princess? US TV show, remember? ? literally bringing up the rear. That will then give everyone four ?gas giant? planets, four more ?minor planets? (our own being one such world, of course), and the new four making what they?ve now called ?Plutons?. Oh, and the powers that be have also said that the new line-up could well be expanded further in future years, depending upon what else they manage to find out there. So now you know!

 - Glynis Wright

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