The Obscurer

It was a bit of a false start, really. Abandoning my City season ticket in May after umpteen years, the new season saw me attend my first pre-season friendly in ages as City took on Porto. I never had any intention of going to the match, but when my parents offered to take my lad to what would be his first City game I just had to be there; to witness the event, and to lend the folks a hand.

And I am delighted to report that he had a great time, eating Smarties and Pringles with his back to the pitch, while “fixing my seat” with a stone he had picked up from the floor; so he showed more imagination than anyone in the City team that day. Fair’s fair, it is a bit much expecting a 3 year old to remain interested throughout a 90 minute match; but then it is tough on anyone who isn’t in a yogic trance to sit through a pre-season friendly at City, so I think he did really well.

Then Wednesday saw me sat back in my old seat to watch the Portsmouth game – well, it was one of the few home matches before Christmas not to be televised, and I always thought I would probably go to our first match of the season – and while at the start of the match I wondered if I would miss my jaunts to the City of Manchester stadium, by the second half of the nil-nil draw I was convinced of the rightness of my decision. By full time I was desperate to get home.

So yesterday truly marked the start of the new regime; perhaps fittingly, while last season’s home fixture against Arsenal was my last as a season ticket holder, yesterday’s home match against the same team was the first where I chose The Weavers over Eastlands.

It will be interesting to see how becoming an armchair fan affects my viewpoint. When I was someone who attended every home game I could I hated the 5:15 Saturday kick-offs; they were a real pain in the arse, completely buggering up your Saturday night. Now, however, I think they’re great. I pop to the pub, have a few pints, pick up a take-away pizza on the way home, and we are tucking into our Thin-Crust Sicilians with extra jalapenos while others are stuck on the match bus, or in a traffic jam. Certainly it seems a far more painless way to watch a somewhat fortuitous victory.

So I don’t know when I will grace a City home match again, not while Sky give me every opportunity to go to the pub instead. The next home game that is not on telly and where I am available is Bolton on the 23rd of December, and that fixture hardly sets the heart racing. Christmas shopping and an impending new born may scupper any chance of me going to that game, even if I want to. But after Porto and then Portsmouth, perhaps for the sake of neatness I’ll wait to see if we ever play Port Vale, either in the cup or even in the league, before I once again watch a City match in the flesh.

I may be in for a long wait.

Well that’s that for another four years; the World Cup is over and bang on cue, two days later, here are my topical thoughts. This time around the end of the tournament has the added bonus that Charles Clarke has promised to shut the fuck up from now on, so that in itself is cause for celebration (Update: he’s just broken his word). I successfully fought the virtually non-existent urge to regularly issue predictions and comments on the games as they have gone on and rightly so; if I had then I would surely have been proved wrong at every turn. Now, however, I can fraudulently claim that I always thought Italy would edge it due to their solid defence, and you can’t prove a thing.

Overall I think it has been a pretty average tournament, with few games that really grabbed the attention, but I am glad for Italy. Of course I wanted England to win (though I could never see that happening) and I have also always had a bit of a soft spot for Spain (being a Hispanophile in general and out of sympathy for their perennially underachieving football team in particular); but with both those sides predictably out of the running I wanted the Italians to do it, primarily because I was in Sorrento four years ago when they got knocked out of the 2002 World Cup and I will never forget the eerie silence when we drew into town, how all the television channels had this air of mourning akin to a state funeral. I would have loved to have been back there on Sunday to judge the difference.

I felt very lucky watching England this tournament, I must say; while the commentators and summarisers were scratching their heads wondering where a good performance would come from, I just sat back watching what I had always expected would happen unfold in front of my eyes. I really feel sorry for all those optimists who thought we stood a chance. We didn’t play well simply because we aren’t very good. I know Sven gets a lot of stick, and rightly so, but listening to some you would imagine that he alone has held back the best team in the world. I’m not denying that we could perhaps play better under a different manager, but not by much.

Part of this is down to how we continually exaggerate how good our players are. The summarisers will say that there aren’t many players from other teams that they would want in the England side, but can you imagine many England players that other nations would want? This is symbolised best in “Fanny” Lampard, one of the best players in the world apparently, certainly one of our stars. Everyone seems to agree that he has had a poor tournament but I’m not so sure; I’ve never thought he was that good anyway. Surely the most over rated England player since David Platt, take away his goals (as it appears someone did; the only way he would trouble the scoreboard is if it was positioned directly behind the goal) and he contributes almost nothing to the side.

Yes, we could win the World Cup one day, we prove each competition that we can consistently finish in the top eight (ie. we are equivalent to a Bolton or Blackburn in premiership terms), and we could fluke onwards; if we had performed only badly in the penalties, as opposed to abysmally, then it is conceivable that we could have reached the semis since Portugal missed two of their spot kicks. However, the fact that we could fluke a semi final appearance is not the same as this misguided belief that we should do better, and I have no faith, based upon the comments of the pundits, that a sense of realism will arrive on the scene anytime soon.

“England expect better than the Quarter-Finals” I kept hearing it said, but we have rarely been further, only once on foreign soil. There have been plenty of occasions when we haven’t qualified for the finals at all (eg. the seventies). Then there is the bizarre paradox that when other teams played badly some pundits would announce that it revealed the team simply didn’t have what it takes to win the World Cup, but when England played badly the same pundits would announce that it is irrelevant because “we know we can play better and will come good in the end”. Based on what?

And even when we did get knocked out, after never playing well, we had a ready made scapegoat in “Chico” Ronaldo, who cruelly spoke to the referee and so “got Rooney sent off”; as if players never crowd round the referee in England. Now don’t get me wrong, Ronaldo is a little shit, but Rooney was right to get sent off; if not for the stamp then for stupidly pushing Ronaldo out of the way. It is right to hate Ronaldo, but not to blame him for England’s exit right on schedule. If Ronaldo wasn’t being blamed then of course it was Sven for playing Rooney up front on his own; but many pundits on television, Lee Dixon among them, had hardly a bad word to say about that system after the Ecuador game; the talk was all about how England seemed to have found a formation that they liked and that worked, while I just shook my head, replayed the images in my head of Rooney stranded upfront without any support, and wondered if the experts had seen the same game that I had.

The punditry in general has been entertaining enough, good value and all, but full of the same old hypocrisies and clichés. When the group stages ended there was the typical “great, the knockout round starts here”, “the last 16 is where the good matches get played”, despite the fact that since USA ’94 the group stages have always been better, when three points for a win means it is worth going for victory while in the latter games it seems more important just to avoid defeat. Then there were the complaints about foreigners diving, as if we never see such things in the premiership (although I admit Henry surprised me when he dived against Spain; I can’t imagine he would have been so blatant for Arsenal). But I did find it bizarre to see Alan Shearer complaining about underhand play and players pressuring the referee; there was never a corner taken where he wouldn’t give an opponent a handy shove, and he was certainly never shy about giving the referee the benefit of his experience. As for Alan Ball’s appearances on Match of the Day as a summariser, as someone who has suffered at his hands I think the less said about his expert analysis the better.

But if the punditry has been poor the commentary has been even worse. I can’t think of a good commentator on BBC and ITV at the moment (TV that is: BBC’s FiveLive coverage is fine). I need not waste my time explaining Motty’s failings, but my new bete noir is Guy Mowbray, for serial dreadfulness but particularly for his appalling “Brisbane, Sydney Melbourne, Perth…they’re all wild about Harry” line when Mr Kewell scored against Croatia. I am indebted to Peter Crouch, however, for refusing to do his robotic dance when he scored against Trinidad And Tobago; not that it stopped Clive Tyldesely from saying “he’s scoring with robotic regularity”, but at least it made Clive look even dafter than he otherwise would have done. Sepp Blatter seems to stick his nose into most other aspects of the sport; should we petition him to introduce minimum standards for commentators?

But now thoughts turn to the domestic season, and my decision not to renew my season ticket is looking inspired. Up until Christmas only four City home games remain unchanged for telly (yet), and of those four I am at work for two of them. Can we stop this charade of publishing the fixtures and then waiting for Sky to piss about with them? Why not draft them, hand a copy to Sky, let them get to work and then publish them so we drones can view them for the first time with all the changes already having taken place. As it stands, when the fixtures are first released the only correct reaction is to shrug your shoulders, say “whatever, let’s see” and then to wait a few weeks to see what turns up.

And with Sven having finally gone it is also time to look forward to the exiting era of Steve McClaren, England Head Coach, as choreographed by his publicist. Funny though; looking back at my first full post on this blog I see that I talked then about the FA, the England manager and some bloke called Max Clifford. The more things change…

PostScript: No World Cup post would be complete without a “man of the tournament” award; and I have to go for Graham Poll. Not just because he booked a Croatian player three times in the game against Australia, but also for missing two blatant penalties in that game, making a host of other bad decisions and completely losing the plot in the most entertaining fashion possible. Cheers, Graham.

I was watching the second-half of Brazil v Croatia last night (after I had spent the first half with Springwatch; you need a bit of give and take in a relationship I find), when John Motson goes all statistical on us, wibbling on in irritating fashion as is his wont. Do I really care that if Brazil beat Croatia then it will be their eighth straight win in the World Cup finals, a new record? If Motty were even a half-decent commentator that I could ignore his numerical excursions, but his continued pre-eminence on the BBC is an affliction I really hoped would have been dealt with in the appropriate manner by now. Will there be no end to his reign of tedium?

But then I perked up when he continued “and if Croatia lose then it will be their first competitive defeat in four years”.

Eh? You’re probably thinking what I was thinking; did I dream Rooney ripping their defence apart two years ago in the European Championships? It was Croatia, wasn’t it? It was, I was certain of it, but for a moment I began to doubt my sanity.

The ball went out for a corner to Brazil, and Motson piped up “as I was saying, Croatia’s last defeat was two years ago to England in Portugal”.

As I was saying! You lying git. Or was he? I questioned myself again, wondering this time if I had initially misheard.

But technology is a wonderful thing. I pressed rewind on my Sky+ like PVR until I saw Roberto Carlos take a throw, and listened again as Motson clearly made the claim that Croatia were undefeated in four years, and then continued on to make his “as I was saying…two years” comment; then I pressed the red button, selected Radio Five’s audio, and ditched the pillock once and for all.

I wouldn’t have minded if he had said “oops, silly me, my mistake, what was I thinking of”, but no; instead he embarked on a shameless attempt to airbrush his error from history, to try to purge the mistake from his spotless record on statistics. It was all very ugly.

How did he realise he had got it wrong? Did it just suddenly occur to him and panicking he blurted out his lazy covering tactic; or more likely did Mark Lawrenson, off mic, point out that he had fouled up? I don’t know, but I have enough fear in me to be anxious for Lawrenson’s welfare; I don’t think Motson appreciates someone pointing out his feet of clay. Please, as soon as someone spots Mark safe and well, leave a comment on this post and put my mind at rest.*

*I don’t count a surreal sighting of Mark Lawrenson reading a story at the end of the Bedtime Hour on Cbeebies. I am sure they were recorded ages ago, (and I pray that they are not all we will have to remember him by).

So here it is, my obligatory World Cup post. It had to happen, what with the whole country once again united as one, exchanging knowing glances and daring to seek an answer to that eternal question: what is it with the Scots, and why won’t they get behind England? Yes, I know Gordon Brown reckons 2/3rds of his countrymen will be cheering on the English, but not for the first time I think the Chancellor’s prediction will turn out to be wildly optimistic.

Perhaps it is useful to do a bit of empirical research. My wedding was the day after England beat Argentina in the last World Cup. The evening before the big day (my wedding, not the match) I was chatting to a clutch of my Scottish relatives in a hotel bar, and there was a less than celebratory atmosphere once the conversation turned to the football. To be honest, considering the hyperbolic overreaction that followed this (as every other) England victory, I would be hard pressed to argue with their attitude.

But before some England fans complain about how outrageous it is that their fellow Brits don’t follow the “local” side, we should make the obvious comparison. How many Mancuncian City fans supported their local side, United, in the 1999 European Cup Final against Bayern Munich? I would say precisely none. At the time I had to put up with quite a bit of stick from United fans casually tossing the “bitter blue” accusation at me, but my response was simple; why should I support United simply because I am from Manchester? The fact is that I hate United, all the time, whoever they are playing; I didn’t then see any reason to start supporting them just because they were “flying the flag” for the UK (which they weren’t really, were they?) against a team with whom I had no grievance. I suppose I could have supported United out of hatred for Germans, but that would have made me a racist twat, which I’m not. It is also noticeable how few United fans extended this theory that you should support you local side to cheering Liverpool’s European Cup victory last year, or who sided with Arsenal against Barcelona a month back.

And while it is true that many England fans do support Scotland, it is also a fact that you will find many United fans who don’t mind City doing well. That is a luxury the dominant team in a relationship can indulge in, but which is rarely reciprocated. Even if I had wanted United to win the European Cup I would surely have regretted it during the triumphalism that followed their success, once I found that work colleagues who had never shown any interest in football before were suddenly boasting and preening because of “their” team’s victory. Even those Scots who would like England to do well may change their mind if England actually enjoy a modicum of success, and an unbearable crowing is unleashed that they will feel little part of.

Ultimately the Scots are not English, so why should they support the England team? If some Scots want to wave the George Cross then fine, but I can see no reason why they should.

And how will England do? Well, I don’t know if you have heard this, but apparently we have the best chance of winning the World Cup since 1966; so that’s nice. The only problem is that the people who are predicting glory tend to be the ones who say the same thing every World Cup and European Championships, and it hasn’t happened yet. This year, however, the optimism seems to have gone into overdrive, with talk that this is the best set of players England has ever had.

Now I would love to think we can win the thing, but I doubt we will, certainly not on merit. It is a possibility but no more. That said I am a serial cynic, doubting until the last minute that our cricket team would win the Ashes last year, and scoffing at the thought of London succeeding in the race to win the Olympics, so what do I know? However, on the matter of whether or not we can win the World Cup I make the same prediction every four years, and currently I have a 100% record.

I don’t quite get this “best England side ever” thing; sure we have some world class players like Gerrard and Rooney, but that doesn’t make a team, and I can think of many players from the recent past – Lineker, Shearer, Gascoigne, Seaman, Pearce – who I think would walk into the current side. If nothing else we would certainly kill for an Ince or a Batty. People seem to forget in the pre-tournament euphoria that this isn’t that different a side from the one that in Euro 2004 could batter a team like Croatia but whose talent-stuffed midfield was completely sliced through when up against a side of the quality of France or Portugal. It is also largely the same team who were deservedly beaten by Northern Ireland not that long ago.

Of course anything is possible; if we had fluked a win against Brazil in 2002 then we would have stood a great chance of winning that World Cup. Greece’s success in Euro 2004 shows what can be achieved, although they were a balanced and well organised team, which I don’t think England are.

When I was younger of course I dreamed that England could be likely winners of the World Cup, but then I also fancied City’s chances in the league. Time passes and perhaps I have put away some childish things while picking up some adult pessimism along the way. But while some say that the only difference between optimists and pessimists is that the optimist has a better time, I tend more to the view that pessimists have the better of it, constantly being surprised and amazed by their good fortune. I’m just going to enjoy a great summer, what will be will be, and any fleeting World Cup success will be a bonus.

No post on the World Cup would be complete without having a dig at Embrace, purveyors of the latest anodyne official England song; but not just because it is dreary rubbish. The young whippersnappers clearly have no sense of football song history, or they wouldn’t have picked a title horribly similar to the appallingly poor 1986 effort “We’ve Got the Whole World At Our Feet”. If you can’t remember the track then lucky you; but for the record it sounded not unlike the 1982 shocker “This Time”, which in turn sounded like a watered-down and petered-out version of “Back Home” stripped of any of the nostalgic “well-it-was-of-its-time” charm that that latter song could claim. For harking back to an earlier monstrosity Embrace should be strung up.

It has been said that these days England songs are better than they used to be since the FA co-opted some decent bands in to write the tunes; but there remains only one good England song, and it isn’t “Three Lions”, despite that songs popularity and success as a football chant (that line “Jules Rimet still gleaming” for Christ’s sake, which is exactly the sort of thing Baddiel and Skinner would take the piss out of if they hadn’t been involved in its production). Getting a great band like, for example, Echo and the Bunnymen to create an England song is irrelevant when the result is a tedious washout.

No, New Order wrote the only England song ever to cut the mustard (with perhaps an honourable mention going to Black Grape for their unofficial track “England’s Irie”). Perhaps if they must then they should re-release “World In Motion” every four years; or better still, just not bother with a World Cup song at all.