Sunday 14 November 2010

Has the Panto Season Come Early?

The world is truly an interesting place right now. There's our Prime-Minister in China fielding questions from students, and making the classic mistake of trying to tell the power brokers of that Communist state about human rights; yeah right! Its like England believing that by playing Peter Crouch up front that we can out-fox the German defence in a competitive match; only to be picked off with ease. Meanwhile, of course, back home our own protesting students, oblivious to the privilege of free speech, were rampaging through his Party Headquarters in swanky Millbank. Then just as everything was settling down, Chelsea sacked Ray Wilkins!

Mr Wilkins was reviewing a Reserve team match at the training ground one minute then asked to clear his desk in the next. Football fans everywhere are genuinely stunned, if anyone thought the Rooney situation was a Pantomine, then, how do we term this charade and its not even December!

The facts that are that Wilkins, who was hired to assist Scolari, then Hiddink and finally Ancelotti, has been pivotal to the Premier League success last year. The number crunchers have tried to over-analyse roles and value and damagingly have under-estimated that virtue that transcends all things financial - loyalty. If the hierarchy at Stamford Bridge believed that this one would blow over with the help of a sprinkling of PR spin, then they were sadly mistaken. Yes, yes, yes, we read that Carlo Ancelotti has a comprehensive working knowledge of English life now: heaven knows, he can probably without assistance write his name on the chalkboard for a game of pool, work the Juke-Box, and has apparently compiled his own Fantasy Football! But somehow, we are missing the point, as one reads the drip fed copy being expertly released by the men in suits upstairs, the facts keep shouting back: Wilkins was the Chelsea captain at the age of 19, is faultless when it comes to media duties and more importantly Chelsea are as good as out of sight at the top of the league even in November; everybody knew it, even if they were not actually prepared to admit it. Football is like music, it is magical, sometimes illogical, at times beautifully but impossible to quantify. The bottom line is that Chelsea are top of the tree and were fearless, and playing with gay abandon; they were achieving something special, Wilkins was part of that collage, and now the rug has been pulled.

As I drove home on Saturday afternoon, after fulfilling another exciting Wedding engagement, I learned that Vidic had rescued Manchester United with an undeserved late equaliser at Villa, but life at the top is ruthless, and the reds know that better than anyone. I made the assumption that a routine win against feisty Sunderland would ease the Blues into a comfortable lead at the summit; one senses, that the Executive puppets at Stamford Bridge had that script already drafted to roll out on Monday as an affirmation to all commentators, pundits and fans that despite the passing of the faithful servant called Wilkins, that football moves on without so much as a loyalty timepiece. But football, has its own unique way of moralising, enter Steve Bruce a Manchester United man deep down, he too like Vidic, critically saved the side Red Devils by scoring two sensational late goals one fine day against Sheffield Wednesday back in 1993, goals that, are widely regarded as the defining moment of what is now taken for granted as dominance at Old Trafford. The significance was not lost on him, and he unleashed his hungry Black Cats to scratch out a performance and pounce on a weakened Chelsea outfit; 3-0 was not just a loss it was a proper beating. The timing of the end of this intimidating unbeaten run is a huge set-back at best, and could change the course of the title ultimately with devastating consequences for Chelsea and Ancelotti - Jose Mourinho is another genius that had to clear his desk at the Bridge. Mrs Ancelotti would do well to log onto Rightmove.com, get a valuation for the Surrey house, and re-open her clothing accounts back in Milan while she's at it, just as a precaution.

Psychologically, it may, more damagingly, have truly re-ignited a fresh and rested young Cheshire resident called Rooney, who at present has nothing to lose and everything to gain; with the exception of his splendid remuneration. With Liverpool still floundering, Manchester City toothless and terrified and Arsenal yet to truly announce themselves, the stage could yet be set for one of the greatest Premier League stories of all time. The one thing that probably could save Chelsea here is the international break, but remember Alex Ferguson has already won played a blinder in the media with his handling of "Rooney-gate," Wilkins is no longer warming the bench beside Ancelotti whispering sweet-nothings, or swapping banter in those tricky press conferences in far-flung places; he is surely destined for a busy career in the broadcast media. Alex is the King of sound bites and I thoroughly expect him now to attempt a campaign of subtle torture for his rival; similar to the way he bamboozled Kevin Keegan back in the 90s.

Ancelotti knows deep down, how valuable his mate "Butch" Wilkins was, but far more significantly is the reality that he is the manager in name alone, and that is where the trouble will really start. I sense that he may feel a right "Dandini" when Alex "Widow Twanky" Ferguson starts airing that Chelsea washing, and reminding him gently of that fact. Abramovich may, in time, wish he had stuck to playing Championship Manager and kept his Russian beak out of the Accounts Department; being "Pinnochio" like Nicholas Clegg, or the Lion from the "Wizard of Oz" like David Cameron. The Premier League has suddenly got interesting again, old English Proverb says "If it ain't broke, don't fix it!"

Sunday 31 October 2010

The Clocks Have Gone Back, Summer is Over, And...

I am moved to write again!

Its been an interesting weekend! I played at my local pub with the trio, to give the place a lift; yes, job done there, we certainly kicked the proverbial overweight rump! Then onto a small but nervously formed Civil Wedding Ceremony at 'Planet Whittlebury Park' that took a while to warm up, but yes, I got them buzzing. Later that evening, I entertained a very civilized gathering with the trio again with another Grand Piano in St Lawrence's impeccably well-behaved church in Towcester. Finally, I dragged myself away from my excited kids to play at a very posh post Wedding Drinks do in a very large marquee with all the trappings that accompany rubbing shoulders with the country set. I have left trails and trails of various speechless folks; but I'm not telling you anything new! After all I am the Maestro who has no equal!

I have been listening to lots of music, a huge requirement professionally, and observing the world of football. Since my last contribution - that has been enjoyed by many many people (Thank you for your comments!), I have been keeping an eye on young Wayne...and Colleen Rooney. They've been on holiday to that old overpriced stomping ground where, another wandering bad boy called John Terry whisked his equally intellectually-charged other half for relationship photo opportunities. Who cares that they had Pizzas and Burgers, all with chips washed down with vodka and beer, and that's just Colleen! Personally speaking, if I had been on that said holiday with a few long lenses observing my every move, I might have opted in public for a clear soup starter and a green leaf salad with shell-fish but we are talking the Rooneys here. But, I digress, their gastronomic tastes are no business of mine, or yours. I have been interested in the quiet progress that the Manchester United team have been making whilst young Wayne has been topping up his tan and allowing the ankle to rest. Will the boy actually get back into the team, that he bemoaned for lacking that World class cutting edge. Whatever his contract is worth now, all that is irrelevant because if Hernandez and Nani (does a dying swan better than Darcy Bussell) keep knocking in the goals, he just might not get into the starting X1. He'll be on that bench so often, we'll be calling him Lord Chief Justice! Suddenly the boot is on the other foot, as Sir Alex always knew it would be, and now the real pressure is on Wayne. I'm watching closely!

Liverpool have resumed reasonable service and have now battled to win two matches on the bounce, and relieved to be moving up the table at long last. I am yet to be convinced that Roy Hodgson can really swim in the Shark-infested waters of Anfield. In my opinion, Liverpool is not a corner shop team, like Fulham, it should be at the top of the league being discussed in the same breath as Arsenal, Chelsea and Manchester United. Roy is not the right kind of general for this type of battle, yes, he has managed countless teams and his intellectual knowledge of cultures and foreign tongues is impressive; but something is missing. Tony Mowbray's appointment at Middlesbrough was applauded locally, but he also bothers me. In post match interviews following poor defeats, both of them "talk about the positives". All real fans know that when a manager gives an interview to the written or broadcast media, they rarely chastise their players directly, but deep down, it is always evident that without actually uttering the words their anger is boiling; and sooner rather than later the dressing room will catch fire with the delivery of their unhappy conclusions. You sense that with Sir Alex, Arsene Wenger, Carlo Ancelotti and even Roberto Mancini. These guys are winners and they wear the clothes of defeat like an unwanted Christmas cardigan. Fans love to know their heroes are held to account for their own financial investments at the turnstiles. Tony and Roy sadly do not possess that fire, when real success is on the portfolio. Swarms of Teesiders will challenge me on that one but in both cases we'll watch the the table; it never lies.

The clocks are now an hour back, it feels colder, the kids are returning to school from their half-term breaks. For me, its an exciting new half term of Piano students, Piano Exams and many big engagements too. This evening, I have handed out a lot of sweets to the local children for Halloween whilst writing my Blog and doing my annual accounts. Next week its Bonfire Night then Remembrance Sunday and after a brief lull, Christmas planning envelopes us all etc.

Meanwhile, let's see where Liverpool will be at Christmas and whether Wayne get back into the team, score goals and win round the fans. Funny thing life, you never quite know what's just around the corner.

Friday 22 October 2010

It's a Mad Mad World!

On the morning of Wednesday 22nd September 2010, I was eating my breakfast with the family and declared to my wife that, for once on this blog, I would talk Weddings for a change; she laughed heartily and said, "Your blog followers would be disgusted and disappointed with you if you did not express your over elaborate footballing views." I sighed and uttered something under my breath about not being understood!

Later that evening Liverpool Football Club were hosting a match against my home-town team Northampton Town (many of you know that I am a Middlesbrough fan too!). I expected 5,000 Northamptonians to travel to the Merseyside, have a great experience, applaud the stoical efforts of our team of journeymen, loan signings and gullible youngsters, and sigh about the opportunities money can buy etc. What transpired enabled all Northamptonians a rare chance to seize and bask in the limelight. We outfoxed them, played them off the pitch, and we won! Then, after the empty Champagne bottles and Beer cans had been discarded into the recycling tubs, collectively we realized the depth of the tragedy that is now Liverpool Football Club in 2010. Worse was to follow, Blackpool too played them off the park but thankfully, Hick and Gillett have now been shown the door via the British courts in the capital.

Just as the mist was clearing, Wayne Rooney, who was anonymous at Wembley opened a huge can of worms in front of the press. The regular hacks and pundits had presented their views for copy and broadcast and were tidying away their laptops and microphones when he created his own verbal cadenza. A smattering of that kind of inventiveness against the proud Montenegro, we would surely have ruthlessly battered them out of sight. He was like a little boy who'd been spared a beating down a dark alleyway by the bullies, only to taunt them as they turned on their heels. Proclaiming that he had never been injured, and could not understand why Sir Alex had said so in the first place was juvenile and provocative; he knew it, and so did we! Like excited but nervous schoolchildren acting on a hunch that the class clown had sworn at the Head Teacher, we just knew that something was brewing. We whispered to one another, typed our speculative views on our fans' forums, rang our radio phone-ins and waited... Sir Alex would surely make a statement. "By heck!" as they say in a well known soap up there in Lancashire, not only did he give us a full account, he churned out the full history, chapter and verse, but more tellingly he wore the expression of wounded bewildered man; I felt at the time that no amount of PR Training can teach anyone to give that kind of performance. This was pure box office, Rooney was now cast as the villain. We speculated whether the boy from Croxteth would and really could live on Paella and late long dinners in Madrid accompanied by wine, or shopping trips with Colleen on the King's Road, or maybe he'd secretly declared himself the King of Catalonia, surely not Manchester City! The response from Rooney via a Stretford doctored statement was lame, but his point about a lack of marquee signings tried to hint that money was not the driving factor. Rumours about the golden money pot across the city surely must have affected his financial judgement or, was he, we wondered, like many United fans, genuinely very uneasy with the Glazer debt scenario; the company accounts did not make comfortable reading.

Meanwhile, on Wednesday, for the rest of us in the real world, we were discovering that services and jobs were being cut to service the deficit, by our Chancellor George Osborne. Suddenly, the Rooney situation had gone from ridiculous to being disproportionately absurd. The more I listened to one Consumer analyst after another attempting to decipher the real meaning of the Spending Review, the worse Wayne Rooney's situation was looking. Fergie candidly made it clear that he too was weary of all the nonsense, and said as much. Gareth Bale gently reminded us what star footballers are supposed to do, by scoring three fabulous goals in Milan, albeit in a losing team. Meanwhile, the banners being unfurled in the Theatre of Dreams were self-explanatory and the disenchantment was clear; the fans, it seemed, were preparing to move on painfully: The general consensus was that Rooney had played his last game for the Red Devils, very few of us thought about any other outcome. But, like the Torres situation in August, we just could not agree with any true conviction, that he was really going. Then many strange things happened, a few folks gathered outside his home for a protest, the Glazers spoke to their star player, and more importantly, I reckon he did what all of us happily married men have to do, in these challenging situations: he encouraged his wife to offer an honest opinion - he got one! Today he signed a 5 year deal...with Manchester United!

Wayne is a simple fish and chips boy, who really needs to go back to the basics; honour, loyalty and integrity. Liverpool who we defeated 31 days ago (it's now October 23rd!) are languishing in 20th place of the Premier League. In 1974, Don Revie's Leeds United were the League Champions, now they are struggling to return to the top flight after struggling to escape the third tier. The unthinkable is possible, if Blackpool can come up, then Liverpool can easily drop down. I, for one, will be watching closely. The Croxteth boy who supports the blue half of Liverpool should thank his lucky stars that if he is right in his assumption that he is carrying the team, then surely it is better to be with Manchester United at the top of the league than be in Steven Gerrard's at the bottom. Fergie was right when he made his strange analogy about cows in a field. Rooney is a luckier boy than he realizes. that whole Escort saga could have been worse, had he been at a different club. Ferguson's performance in front of the press on Tuesday was stellar demonstration of why he is the manager in pole position that everyone else is following; the art of protecting all things Manchester United was clear for all to see. The Glazers know how lucky they are to have him as their general. David Beckham, Paul Ince, Ruud Van Nistelrooy and Roy Keane will remind you that you appreciate what a great ally Sir Alex is, once he's in the opposing camp; Rooney has had his warning. From this point on he should graft very hard, and realize his potential as and be an England great who eventually retires comfortably and happily with the spoils of his labours; that is not a privilege that the late great George Best or Paul Gascoigne have enjoyed, and they too were fabulously remunerated for their talents only to destroy themselves through ill advised excess.

An old friend, who is fabulously wealthy and sold his business recently to play golf everyday in the warm Spanish sunshine once pointed out to me that after you've made a fortune and got used to it, the only thing that really changes in your life is that you can choose when to take your superior holidays and that you wear better suits. Everything else stays the same; Rooney will do well to take note.

Now, regarding Weddings, I am the best Wedding Pianist out there. I have no equal! I entertain, engage, enjoy myself, always meet and understand my Bride and Groom, prepare fastidiously, have a gargantuan repertoire, and play for as long as you like! Today, I played for 6 hours! I love Weddings and believe passionately in the Sanctity of Marriage. And I am mad about football! Like Rooney, the only difference is he got distracted from the real job in hand! I won't! I truly know how much is really at stake.

Thursday 12 August 2010

It's Game On!

So, after all the speculation, England have finally played their first game since the World Cup. What have we really learned from the experience? Well, if we're honest, not a lot.

Let's examine the evidence. Watching the enthusiasm and bravado of our players in the first half was more of a reminder that schoolchildren will be starting their new school year in a matter of weeks; full of good intentions, fresh haircuts and squeaky new shoes, more so than any statement that we had turned over a new leaf in terms of our international approach. But, as we feared, normal service was resumed after the break, the sleepy defence was outwitted by a neatly executed give-and-go that led to a well-deserved lead for Hungary; did it cross the line, who cares? They should NEVER have got that far up the pitch in truth! With Rooney's withdrawal came boos, but more akin to an afternoon at the Pantomine than real venom. But Steven Gerrard became our Principal boy of the tale and summoned an extra gear to take the game by the proverbial scruff of the neck; score a screamer and a then create a strong candidate for 'Goal of The Season' and salvage occasion.

Well? We always knew that regardless of the outcome of the World Cup, new players would get their opportunity; and they were duly given their chance on the improved Wembley pitch. Proper football followers did not need not be reminded that Steven Gerrard could win games single-handedly, we expected to marvel at the twists and turns of Adam Johnson and Ashley Young down the flanks and they did not disappoint, and Rooney can still look sluggish in front of goal only to re-emerge days later looking as fresh as a daisy and fitter than a butchers dog! But alas, after all the conjecture about stay away punters, 70,000 spectators did what you'd expect, they rallied behind the team, and created a great atmosphere.

What really IS different is Fabio Capello. He is no fool and although he and we know that £6 million-a-year is nice work if you get it, he also knows his reputation has been torn to shreds. The English love a good Pantomine and there is no bigger one than the England football team; for yesterday was no more, in truth, than a public relations exercise with Hungary, a proud nation of nostalgic dreamers ranked 62nd in the world, inserted as cannon fodder for the night. Much has been made of his stony faced reaction to Gerrard's goals, but Capello understands context. Last night's events will have no reminiscent value when the real business of tournament football commences in June 2012; once we qualify, and that is when he will be judged, damned, berated or given the freedom of all that is English and the obligatory rule change to give him the knighthood. Good honest football men before him like Bobby Robson, Kevin Keegan, Graham Taylor, and Steve McClaren have walked that murky plank in search of the Fools Gold that follows success in this job. What we learned last night is that during the summer, as he has been sipping his favoured Italian claret in silent contemplation awaiting the resumption with the poison chalice that is the England job, his taste buds are ready!

Sunday 27 June 2010

Sobering Thoughts...

Well its the end of June and once again England are out; hands up if you're surprised! From the moment Robert Green allowed that shot to roll under his body, we just knew the dream had died and we were never really the same again. Many question come to mind and I am not totally convinced that we are not good enough.

I have watched the tournament with interest from many angles and it has been very revealing. Firstly, it is widely accepted world-wide that any sports festival with the Brits taking part is always richer for our presence. We may be hurting from elimination but I bet some of those South African souvenir sellers and bar owners are hurting more. I know from my extensive world travel that the British tourists are more keenly welcomed, than any other nation; when it comes to dipping in our pockets, we spend the cash and have a bloody good time! Forget that English reserve, forget that nonsense that we are bad tippers, forget the fact that we moan a lot, we always spend lots more dough and drink more largers than anyone else including the Americans! The shop-keepers of South Africa are really going to miss us now.

I mentioned in a previous blog that Fabio Capello was learning about the English psyche during the John Terry soap opera earlier this year. The same player again clearly riled him, because at a time when he and his players should have been relaxing and composing themselves for the next game, far too much energy was wasted on public relations interviews to all major media agencies. In my real time existence as a performing Pianist, every gig matters, but occasionally you have one where you truly have to be totally focused, as a result your preparations are more intensive in a few small but significant areas and you deliver. England's players should have had NO distractions, their base was carefully selected and the staff wanted for nothing but instead of getting into the zone, our players failed again in a tournament situation. Sven, to his credit, clearly felt that the presence of the families would help his players in 2006, but that too did not work. Maybe they needed to stay in a city centre hotel where they could walk within reason walk to a pub, have a bar snack, play pool, sink some pints and arrive back at the hotel via a Casino where they could have spent their considerable wages playing roulette, poker and blackjack or even chilled out at a lap-dancing bar; go to any such establishment within spitting distance of a football ground and the owners will proudly reveal that the footballers are their best regulars!

I am enjoying the ethnic diversity of the pundits on the Television coverage provided by BBC and ITV. Whilst their views are not making great TV, I am enjoying the insights they provide into the mentality of winners. For example, Jurgen Klinsmann, a prolific German striker, when asked about how his team won the World Cup in 1990 replied: "We were a great team and we knew we would win it...in those situations you've got to be mean as hell to achieve it!" He went on to explain that he and all Germans knew how good our England team was at that tournament, but THEY won the cup not us, and today, as dumped us out 4-1, they still conceded privately that player for player we should have strolled to victory, but once again as Klinsmann said, they were meaner than us. Surely there is a lesson to be learned; after all who put Manchester United out of the Champions League on a night when they were cruising so comfortably...Bayern Munich!

So, the festival of football continues without us. Its not the same when you're team are not in it but that's life. I hope that Fabio Capello continues as manager, because he has instilled a discipline into the team that has not been there for a while. Additionally, he is a winner, and winners hurt harder when they lose, so he will learn from this experience, go back to his study with a bottle of Italian claret and plot again for victory because that is all he knows, he is a real football man. If he does walk away from the job following this campaign, then English football will have to do a very uncomfortable internal inquiry, because this problem is clearly very deep-seated

So for the present, take down the flags, put the England shirts on E-Bay get ready for work tomorrow...and take an umbrella too. Its back to reality until the Olympics starts in two years...

Monday 31 May 2010

Summer is nearly here and so is The World Cup!

Its the evening of Bank Holiday Monday, June is hours away, and so now officially is the summer. The Champions League has been decided, the test match is on its way, we are still reeling from the shock that Blackpool are actually in the Premier League and everyone is has put, is putting, is preparing to put a St George's flag on their car because England are going to win the World Cup! Of course they won't but its great watching our people of Middle England turn back the clock for four weeks, and share real community spirit.

I always make a point of telling foreign nationals who complain about how unpatriotic the Brits are to hold onto their hats and observe the mood of their indigenous neighbours once the World Cup really starts! Those flags are draped from windows, shops, and cars, the pattern appears on thongs, brassieres, t-shirts, mugs and beer and soft drink cans. Everyone suddenly remembers the words to "Three Lions On The Shirt", "Vindaloo" is sung with equal gusto, and heaven help us, if we get anywhere near the Quarter Finals, we will all definitely be singing AND dancing to "Love's got the World in Motion". Even the bemused Middle Class rugby followers will ADMIT to watching the matches and cheering on the boys, especially if the dreaded fixtures looms large: a match with the Germans! The Sun Newspaper does it every time, and everyone complains, but we will still buy the souvenir edition featuring a man witha tin hat with bubble wafting somewhere over his head saying "Achtung!"

World Cup summer is almost the only time where the regular debate about not producing British tennis talent fails to gather momentum during Wimbledon; the ruling classes who are invariably pilloried annually for keeping their sacred posh tennis clubs exclusive, breathe a collective sigh of relief! No-one cares because we're wrapped up in debates with perfect strangers in shopping malls, queues for the Cashpoint about whether our Italian mate Fabio "has lost the dressing room", or "has not learnt what we all know that Lampard and Gerrard can't play together". It is madness!

I, for the record have now got the Wall Chart up and have blocked off the diary for the first round England games and then we'll see what transpires. I have to confess that I have been convinced to perform at a Civil Partnership in Wales on the day of the final but then we all know deep down that we'll be out of it by then!

But please note, in May 1999, I had been one year into a Wednesday night residency at "The Wharf" in Bugbrooke, Northampton and refused to play on the night that Manchester United were going for the treble against Bayern Munich at the Nou Camp. Having turned down a free ticket to actually fly to Barcelona, I just knew something special was going to happen and I had to watch the game live on TV. It turned out to be one of the most exciting and inspiring climaxes that I have ever witnessed, with the Red Devils winning 2-1. I was sacked by the Landlord, the next day and on accepting his decision, told him that if the same thing happened again, I would have NO hesitation doing it again...and stand by my decision! For me playing the Piano is a job that I enjoy passionately, but football IS my passion.

Let's hope that the World Cup is great success for the continent of Africa, and the well-being of everyone united by the beautiful game. By the way, I believe Brazil will lift the trophy on Sunday 11th July; European teams always fail outside their continent. Anyone for a chorus of Rule Brittania...

Monday 12 April 2010

The Summer IS on it's way!

Its the last week of the Easter Holiday 2010, the clocks are one hour forward, our kids won't go to bed because "it can't be bed-time 'cos its still bright outside", the Barbeque is out of the shed, everyone is buying their booze at the Cash and Carry, we've had a baking hot weekend, everytime a top footballer goes down injured the nation winces! It must be World Cup year! Come On England! The England Rugby Team can huff and puff, win scrummages all day and kick for touch at the Six Nations, the Cricket team can beat Bangladesh, India, Pakistan and even the Mother-In-Law. No-one cares, its World Cup Year...Come On England! Even my wife is sweating over the fitness of Rooney's knee, will Ashley Cole be ready? Who's our best Goalie? Who will go instead of Beckham?

I am despite earlier statements about my family being important, checking potential gig enquiries against possible England fixtures! If we finish top, will we meet Germany in the Semi-Finals or Argentina in Round Two, what if we can't beat U.S.A.? It's a mad mad world! If John Terry scores the winner in the final, or marks Lionel Messi out of a crucial game, all the nonsense of my previous posts will be airbrushed from everyone's mind; we'll forget that Steven Gerrard had fisticuffs in Southport, and John Terry was snubbed by Wayne Bridge. Its a very daft world!

To talk sense for one moment, we are weeks away from Election day, Labour could come tumbling down, the new regime could, on the back of a savvy Italian called Capello, benefit from the euphoria of high octane World Cup run and Summer feel-good factor; the Recession will be forgotten. When Tony Blair became Prime Minister back in 1997, Diana died and he reacted before the Queen to the under-belly of Public Opinion and became a champion of the mood of Middle Britain. Is Cameron smart enough to do the same? Time will tell.

Tuesday 2 February 2010

Role models!

I have read, watched, and listened to with fascination all the coverage concerning John Terry, the Chelsea and England football captain. I feel the need to put my opinion on record because many aspects of this sorry issue annoy and sadden me.

When Fabio Capello came to England to manage our national team, I know from conversations with 'football people' that he, like many foreigners that come to Britain to work and live, is fascinated by the importance of trivial details in British life. I do not think that he truly appreciated the significance of the appointment of the England captain; David Beckham, in my opinion was a fine captain - the blame for England's failings at the previous World Cup should be laid at Sven's door not his. Having observed the England team from afar, initially Capello felt that selecting a captain would be as insignificant as deciding whether or not to sprinkle parmascen cheese on his pasta at the dinner table. As he convalesces in his Swiss home, the real concern now is not his knee but the true dimensions of the poison chalice that is the England manager's job. What is most worrying though, is how toothless the Football Association has proved itself to be time and time again. Fabio is alone in the wilderness to make a football decision, which vitally is also a diplomtic and corporate one too; make no mistake, this WILL affect sponsorship if handled poorly and the F.A. know it: so there you have it, our tarnished image will be sorted by a foreigner, albeit an excellent strategist.

John Terry, the person, first came to my notice in June 2007. I was preparing to play for a Civil Wedding Ceremony at Whittlebury Park, Northants for an ardent Chelsea fan. During the course of my usual exhaustive preparations, I met Martin Swann, a local minister here in Northampton who informed me that he was a Chelsea chaplin and had been approached by John Terry that week to perform a Wedding Blessing as a bolt-on for his Civil Ceremony at Bleinham Palace in Oxfordshire that week. He said he had initially agreed to the request but withdrew at the eleventh hour after learning that OK magazine were sponsoring the event for exclusive rights to coverage. His explanation was concise and simple: as someone who offers unseen Pastoral support to many of the players in confidence, his integrity would be compromised by being linked and photographed at such an event.

I gave John Terry the benefit of the doubt over his Wedding, after all David Beckham and Ashley Cole amongst many others have done similar things but I have made a point of observing Terry since then. Whenever London based players are discussed gambling and losing large amounts in various London Casinos and Race Tracks, Terry's name is always mentioned, there was the misdemeanor with him selling trips around the training pitch, marketing himself by mass E mail touting himself to the highest bidder, if that wasn't bad enough, some of his relatives were cautioned for shoplifting! Come on! He is the highest paid player in Britain earning reputedly £150,000 a week, that's not a year, a month, a fortnight, that's every week!!! I can honestly tell you that if music EVER made me THAT kind of money, I would be more than a little discreet about my conduct in public flaunting my life-style, family and homes; especially now.

Driving up the A19 to watch Middlesbrough at the Riverside, has reminded me of the huge sacrifices rank and file punters make to follow their heroes. Having said that, supporters honestly don't mind what the players drive, where they live etc. But there is an understanding that for all the special privileges and earnings that they enjoy, they really ought, with all that in their favour, to be proper up upstanding pinnacles in society. Our celebrity culture and the internet has fast-tracked people, more accustomed to humbler surroundings and limited attention, into an arena that they and their families and friends are ill-prepared for. Excess is the norm and no-one is reining it in, because we are too busy being consumed by the whole machinery.

I will say it AGAIN! Thank the Lord that we have a foreigner, who is reflecting over a glass Pinot Grigio in Switzerland right now, calmly considering the responsibility of his next move. Its a shame that our up-and-coming fabulous feel-good Bar-be-que Summer of 2010 will be kick started by a successful England football team, marshalled by the iron fist of an Italian called Fabio Capello. John Terry right now fears this man more than his missus, and for that I, for one, am grateful.