The Diary

27 October 2007: A Right 'Tweet' Encounter As Throstles Battle Canaries Tomorrow.

Welcome to yet another fun-packed Friday night, folks, and one in which I get to perform my appalling imitation of Adrian Goldberg in best ?Watchdog? mode ? but that comes much later on. First, though, a few words about last night, when Robert Koren, Bostin Cesar and Craig Beattie did their thing in front of a pretty well-attended Supporters Club meet, held in the East Stand, kick-off time supposedly 7 pm. but in reality slightly later, as things turned out.

And that was good news for us, too, as we?d had to show prospective buyers around our place earlier that same evening, so the late start transpired to be a bit of a bonus for us both, too. At first, we?d thought that the numbers would be much reduced, owing to the lads playing on Tuesday night, and people perhaps not wanting to commit too much of their precious spare time to the cause: not every family is as Albion-oriented as wot we are. In some relationships, extra SC meetings on top of games would very likely qualify as ample grounds for divorce! But that wasn?t the case at all: about 20 minutes before the start, I spotted Mike Thomas gamely lugging a load of chairs ?borrowed? from some other room, then ?transplanting? them as and when more and more punters piled in!

Schlepping around a little before the start, we managed to grab a few words with Dave Holloway, organiser of Baggies Travel: a rare feat, that, as we don?t normally get chance on matchdays ? but, after hearing what he had to say the other night, we?re both dead jealous. How come? Well, Dave?s managed to get to see a game at The Emirates, home of The Arse, of course, a ground we still have to ?do?. (But we will get to go there next season, I?m sure! Er - will we, Mogga?....)

Our chum has also seen MK Dons in action at their spanking-new place, but not with our football club, obviously: we still have to play them on their own midden. That one we also have to add to our current tally, but given the almost pathological antipathy my other half has towards ?The Franchise?, the day we finally do that, George Bush will no doubt be inviting the Iranian government to The White House for tea and a bit of a knees-up, followed by a swift conversion to extremist Islamic belief for the US leader. (Now there?s a thought: the ultimate ?terrorist sleeper-cell?, one based right at the very heart of the White House, but designating Bush as ?the brains behind it? would be a stretch of the imagination a little too far, even for little ole me!?.)

He?s also ?done? Brighton?s new place ? Dave, I mean, not George Bush - so it looks as though we?ve got a lot of catching up to do, haven?t we? Shrewsbury, watch out, we?re coming to get yer?.. Also to be watched out for was a more-than-usually peripatetic Alan Cleverly (cor, I?m suddenly getting this terrible feeling of deja-vu!) but sans outlandish headgear this time round. As for the remainder of the audience, loads were familiar faces, with even more actual acquaintances in evidence. Amazing how a chance to meet the players gets ?em out in droves, isn?t it?

We even had a ?resident doctor? on tap, should any Baggie feel a little bit dicky during the proceedings: Doc Rimmer, no less, but a very pained one, it has to be said. Looks as though he?s got back trouble, just like me, poor lamb. A time for a bit of the old ?Physician, heal thyself? thingy, I wonder? And, while he?s at it, a bit of the same in my direction wouldn?t go amiss, either.

While waiting for the entry of our finest, His Nibs got talking to Damien about this and that (No, not the one in ?The Omen?, just the chap who sometimes takes round the Supporters Club card in The Hawthorns Hotel on Saturdays. Mind you, on the other hand, rumour does have it he?s pretty capable of rotating that head of his 360 degrees, and spewing green gunge ad. lib. Scares the life out of mouthy away supporters, allegedly.....).

No, seriously?. It turned out that like an awful lot of other people these days, his folks have been delving into their family tree, and it?s his missus?s side of it all that?s chucked up the interesting stuff, right back to 1814, would you believe? No lunatic axe-murderers, nobility born on ?the wrong side of the blanket? and subsequently covered up by a shamed titled dynasty, or anyone blessed with a surfeit of scientific or medical greatness, sad to say, just a distant sharing of DNA with Billy Bassett, one of the greatest Albion players (and, after his playing days were over, Director and administrator) ever to set foot upon our holy ground.

Talk about dead jealous: the only ancestral details my family have ever excavated, to date, is some pretty nebulous stuff about very distant forebears coming to the Black Country from Ireland some 100-odd years ago. Probably worked as ?navvies? on the local canals, which were very much under construction at the time I?m referring to, more like than not.

But enough of all that, time for the whole point of the meeting to show their faces, introduced, as ever, by The Gornal Cat-Strangler aka ?Jack The Ripper? aka John Homer (who also does a neat line in match-munching sweeties, too, but that?s another story altogether?.). Introduced individually, out they came, first of all Robert Koren, smartly tracksuited (Meggo would have approved, I?m sure!), and sporting dark but lank hair. Then, in rapid succession, team-mates Bostin Cesar (yes, and as you would expect, John certainly made a meal out of that name!), much taller than Koren, and lankier with it, with Craig Beattie, a very sociable Scots lad with a slightly receding hairline, bringing up the rear.

Very pleasant lads they were to listen to, I have to say. One small snag was the lad Koren having to translate for team-mate Cesar (ropey English, but can converse well in French, apparently, so you get in there quick-smart, Carly, my gel!), but you didn?t need an interpreter to quickly realise that both had a really wicked sense of humour, Koren?s being very much of the ?dry as a bone? variety, too.

As for young Beattie, he was a very affable cove indeed, telling his audience varied tales about life in the Scottish Football League with Celtic, international duty with the Scottish squad, and all stations west, including playing in the same side as John Hartson, when he was on really good goalscoring form with the green-and-white-hooped persuasion. Sorry not to be more informative, but I do have a long row to hoe tonight. You want to know more? Sign up for the Supporters? Club, peruse their website, and that?s your ?in? for future events of this nature sorted, isn?t it?

Oh ? and Mister Beattie?s also about the only Scotsman I?ve ever known in my entire life to pass upon the unrequited gift of a full bottle of whisky (presented to each guest in turn at the end of the session) and give it to someone else instead! A very surprised raffle-winner, in fact, who had originally come up to collect a prize of a more orthodox nature, but had the ?water of life? thrust upon him as well, courtesy our more-than-generous striker!

Time for me to slip into ?Watchdog? mode, then. Baggies supporter Keith Burrows has a sorry tale to tell apropos of The Midland Metro, on the night of the Blackpool game, so all you people that get to and from the ground that way, it might well be in your best interests to listen up.

Describing the events of Tuesday evening on The Metro as ?shambolic?, his beef is that those responsible for the service, not realising that a good crowd would attend, because of the half-term, and Albion?s reduced prices including 'kids for a quid', saw consequent increased pressure on public transport than you might usually expect for a fixture against Blackpool on a Tuesday night.

Keith first realised something was obviously wrong when he arrived at the Dartmouth Street stop at 19.04 (that?s 4 minutes past seven, in English, but from now on, I?ll stick to Continental time, as it?s easier). The sign for the next tram said 19 minutes away, which Keith reckoned was cutting it close, but would have been OK. However, Keith and his fellow-Baggies waited and waited and waited??.

The time to the next trams kept coming down, but not as quickly as the minutes passed: in the end, the tram arrived at 19.31, very tight to see kick-off, that! Once it was there, they found out the hard way why the tram had taken so long: full to bursting, it was, and there was difficulty cramming even more in. At each successive stop, the doors had to be pushed shut, every time, Tokyo subway style, if what Keith says is right.

When they got to West Bromwich Central, literally hundreds were waiting to get onto this already full tram, so the staff just pushed on, preventing anyone getting off, leaving people wanting to alight stuck on board. The tram then struggled to leave - too heavy? - then proceeded to stop at all the remaining stops to The Hawthorns. Not that that did any good, mind, as by now, no-one could get on or off.

It was around 19.45 when Keith and his fellow-sufferers, probably feeling great empathy with the plight of sardines, by then, finally arrived, and obviously missed the kick-off. And it didn?t help, either, that by then, stewards in The Halfords had closed the majority of turnstiles, so they ended up in a queue: not because of that many people actually wanting to see the game, just because of sheer weight of numbers all using that turnstile in one go.

And that wasn?t the end of it, by any means. The outward journey had been fraught, certainly, but worse still, Keith reckoned the return one was downright dangerous. Far more people were on the Metro platform after the final whistle than a tram could possibly carry: this led to a mass crush to get onto the tram, as again they had to wait far longer than the usual wait for one to show up.

As a result of the sheer weight of bodies, lots of small kids ended up crushed against the side of the tram, and concerned parents trying their level best to protect them, somewhat over-agressively at times (understandable, really: remember Hillsborough?). Those immediately behind the people being pushed (obviously) weren?t responsible, it was the ever-expanding great mass right behind them. Although the tram doors stopped right in front of Keith, even he reported being ?pushed sidewards, and slammed into the doors - it hurt!?

Keith adds that in the last few months on the Metro, they have gone from managed platform capacities to complete and utter anarchy, and that if this happened again it could have serious consequences. He?s not rightly sure who could take it up with Centro, but perhaps the club might be interested in some sort of dialogue with the carriers, as they have championed/encouraged use of public transport in the past, but this type of (non?) service might well put supporters off attending.

Over to you, Albion/the Supporters Club/the local media/the tabby cat who sits on the corner of Halfords Lane on matchdays/whoever?.. It?s annoying, it?s uncomfortable in the extreme for those already on the tram, not to mention those wanting to get on or off, and, more importantly, shows every sign of being a catastrophe waiting to happen. It?s amazing how many times normal health and safety considerations seem to get cast to the four winds when it?s football supporters making use of facilities, and not what you might term ?respectable people? doing similar.

Time someone had a few well-chosen words in shell-like ears, methinks, if only so I or anyone else doesn?t have to say in retrospect ?I told you so!? if and when it all goes pear-shaped. Which it most certainly will, unless someone responsible for matchday travel removes their finger from the interior of their fundament. And pretty damned quick, if Tuesday is anything to go by.

Better late than never, I suppose?.. Time, now, to look at what tomorrow might have in store for us weary foot-soldiers, both on the pitch and off it. Norwich have had what might be termed a bit of a complete Horlicks of a season, to date, surprisingly enough. They can?t score goals to save their lives, for one thing, which is where the John Hartson loan spell comes in, of course. Just a brace to show for their entire efforts of the current campaign tells its own sorry tale. Because there?s a clause inserted into the deal that he won?t be participating as a temporary Canary tomorrow, we don?t get to see what improvements the wilds of East Anglia have wrought upon the ex-Celtic lad, but never mind.

No doubt Delia is currently spending an inordinate amount of time concocting recipes for getting underachieving football clubs from out of the drop-zone: if so, existing evidence would strongly suggest that her chosen combination of ingredients aren?t gelling at all well, right now. (If she tried deglazing a striker or two with a copious ?glug? of wine vinegar, then incorporating two or three free-range eggs into the back four, along with a bag of wholemeal flour and a pint or three of full-cream milk for the midfield, all garnished with generous portions of herb butter, might that just make a bit of difference, perhaps?).$p

Wise as ever, our leader suggests we take The Canaries a little more seriously than their lowly League position would currently allow for. Managerless, and holding up the rest of the division, having only taken one point from the last 21, their caretaker, Jim Duffy, sure has an awful lot on his plate, right now. Especially if Delia, having temporarily assumed a Lucretia Borgia-type persona for the occasion, went to the considerable trouble of cooking for him herself. Ooer.

?We?ve just got to make sure they don?t get their turnaround here at The Hawthorns at the weekend?.? said the wise man. Hopefully, after Monday?s massed impersonation of a group of nervous women suddenly spotting a mouse scuttling across the room, we?ll be a little more proactive than that. After all, this fixture does pit the side with one of the best scoring records in this division against the one with the worst. If we can?t get something from this game, then we might as well chuck our hand in there and then.

Presumably, given John Hartson can?t come out to play, Darren Huckerby, a thorough nuisance in times of yore, will be strutting his stuff tomorrow instead. Mind you, whatever happens in this one, surely there won?t be a repetition of the events of the corresponding fixture last season, where we managed to hit the crossbar no less than seven times, and still ended up getting sod-all from the blasted game?

Now for the Norwich sick, lame and halt, as of Friday evening. Let?s start with Dion Dublin (who has a bad back: yes, I know, the old ones are the best?.) and Adam Drury, with calf problems (What, he gave birth to one? Can I be his manager, please?). Mark Fotheringham will also be out for this one, with both Julien Brellier and keeper Matthew Gilks rated ?doubtful?. Interestingly enough, there could well be a very familiar face for the Norwich caretaker to feast his eyes upon, tomorrow. The latest is that ex-Canaries gaffer Peter Grant has been offered a coaching job by Mogga. They were big mates at Celtic, by all accounts, and our leader, who rates his personal qualities very highly indeed, is as keen as ? erm - mustard (Coleman?s?) to have him on board at The Hawthorns.

And, just in case you?d thought Norwich had it bad, here?s some really spine-chilling news to have gurgling around your skull this close to Halloween. At the moment, The Canaries currently have a caretaker in charge, but local rag The Pink Un reckons that an announcement will be made by the club next Monday. Phil Parkinson, currently Alan Pardew?s Number Two at Charlton, is thought to be the Chosen One, but there are persistent rumours still swirling around East Anglia that Stoke City?s Tony Pulis might fancy stepping up to the base-plate instead. Now I?ve always found Norwich supporters to be a pretty decent bunch of folkies, and like us, very much appreciative of the beautiful game as it should be played, so what the hell have they done to deserve THAT, I ask myself?

That?s City dealt with then: now for our own lot. Who?s hot and who?s not, tomorrow? Well, it looks as though Craig Beattie?s largesse with the old whisky on Thursday paid off: looks as though he may get included in the squad tomorrow, after contracting flu and missing the previous two. As for the rest, I can?t see much that?s going to be very different from Tuesday night, unless he finds room for the absent Barnett this time round.

?As you were? at the back and between the sticks, a wealth of riches in the middle, once more, and the usual Miller-Phillips combo to get things moving up front. Sure, it was hard work on Tuesday evening, especially for we plebs watching, but football lore has always frowned upon the practice of changing a winning side, even if the side in question did have more than their fair share of luck than was good for them! Dare I say it? The three points should be ours come five o?clock? Oh, soddit, I just have?.

AND, WHILE WE?RE AT IT, HERE?S A FEW MORE THINGS TO PONDER??

Numero Un?? Anyone else notice the personnel the England U16 squad have lined up to play their leek-munching counterparts in the Sky Sports Victory Shield, next Friday?

I should jolly well hope so, as we have two of our kids flying the flag, and in the best Albion international tradition, too: Lateef Aliyu, the lad who became the youngest person ever to play for our first team, this summer (when 15 years and a pretty solid chunk of days old) versus Stafford Rangers, in a pre-season friendly played at their place, is one. A lad called James Hurst is our other representative: sadly, I don?t know an awful lot about him, naughty Baggie that I am, but I am pleading football?s equivalent of the Fifth Amendment, as I haven?t seen either stiffs or youths in action much this term. Don?t worry, that will be rectified come Monday night, when the Dingles come to town.

Note I did say there were TWO Albionites proudly flying the flag for our club at that level ? but I now think I?ve found a third. The FA people can relax, as we?re not doing anything illegal, but when you see another kid?s name pencilled into that same squad, a Reading lad who goes by the name Abdulah BAGGIE, then you have to think that a bit of nominative determinism (the concept of someone?s surname fitting them remarkably well for a particular job e.g. a pastry chef called Baker, miner called Cole etc.) has to come into it somewhere! Come on, Mogga, get Steve Coppell on the blower ASAP, and start talking turkey: after all, you can?t fight what?s already written in the stars, can you?

Numero Deux?.. Remember Sutton Branch secretary Amanda Hume, and her (non) appearance on quiz show ?The Weakest Link? two or three weeks back? Well, she?s finally had another date from the Beeb: apparently, Amanda?s charms will now be unleashed upon the unsuspecting nation on the evening of the 5th of November (yes, feel free to make as many Guy Fawkes/Bonfire Night/fireworks jokes as you wish, Mandy isn?t proud), and at a start time of 5-15, the whole shebang wrapping up at 6 pm. Replica shirts, baked spuds and sparklers optional, of course.

Numero Trois?. And here was me thinking what a decent, upstanding citizen our gaffer was, but now I?ve seen the following headline, I?m not so sure any more! ?MOWBRAY LOOKING TO TIE DOWN GERA?.? it said. Ooooh, Matron!

 - Glynis Wright

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