Evolving football knowledge

As a follow-up to Jamie's attempt to build a world eleven, we had a go today at naming 10 football teams.  It was a struggle to eight, then he considered the World Cup.  No problem with his geography...

Living vicariously

I wanted to be a professional footballer.  As a teenager, I poured my heart and soul into the sport, loving (almost) every minute of it and dreamt of representing my country and playing Premier League football.

Six days a week were spent training or playing, with the pre-game Friday the only day that didn’t see me in a pair of boots or trainers.  Admittedly, those Friday nights would often find me in Wellington’s Bond Street Inn with my mates, not necessarily the perfect preparation for a match, but such was my youth and fitness that I managed to ride through the perils.  Those nights are perhaps an indication of why I didn’t quite make it in the game, but nevertheless, it was a dream I harboured.

Not realising your dreams, or at least acknowledging the fact, can sometimes be a difficult experience; often for someone else.  On the 26 May 1999, Manchester United recorded their historic treble of winning the Champions League, Premier League and the FA Cup in the same season.  That same day, a much bigger event in my life occurred, the arrival of one James John Brown.  3lb 6oz of fighting little man who I thought was so keen to catch the football that he arrived six weeks early.  I determined there and then, that my ambition to be a footballing legend would transfer to the tiny bundle in my arms, who I would support, cajole and encourage into a future England team.

Fast forward 15 years and we are on the cusp of the World Cup, an event I desperately wanted to attend, not as a spectator, but as a player (though I’m still clinging to the dream of visiting the World Cup as the former).  The TV and radio are tuned to broadcast the games, the matches I can’t see live are set to record and there’s a bottle or two of Brahma in the fridge as my tilt towards being in Brazil.  I’m savouring the build-up, entering match predictions and a fantasy league team on SuperBru, placing my outside bet on the Belgians at Ladbrokes and listening to the experts opine.  On one such programme airing on the BBC’s 5Live last Friday, a number of pundits named their world eleven, a team comprising the best players that history has delivered us.  Amongst others, names such as Pele, Beckenbauer, Maradonna, Zoff, Matteus and Zico were pencilled onto the team sheet, conjuring some of the most magical moments in football, as I recalled the feats of some of these players.

At the time, Jamie and I were heading to the Rutherford Appleton Laboratory near Oxford to listen to an illuminating talk by Prof. Mark McCaughrean on the work of the European Space Agency and I asked Jamie who he’d have in his world eleven.  What transpired is proof of a number of things: that we are each our own; that we should form only our ambitions; and that my son has not the remotest bit of interest in the world of football.  For 20 minutes we laboured at establishing a team, me providing what I considered to be the most obvious of hints, but which in hindsight, only someone with an interest in the game would be able to get, albeit, when it came to Walkers Crisps, we got to Gary Linekar relatively easily, although Jamie did think he was a cricketer. 

We soon dispensed with naming players to their preferred position or even the possibility of filling a bench, we were like a pub team on a Sunday scrubbing around to find enough fellas to fill 22 boots.  Even David Beckham didn’t manage to raise a mention, although admittedly I failed to think of him myself and provide Jamie a clue like “Who is Posh Spice’s husband?”

Which leads me to my point.  Despite his utter lack of interest in football and his unwillingness to share my passion for the game and fulfil my dreams, I am immensely proud of my son.  One day, he may be a brilliant scientist, mathematician or pilot (or something as yet still to be determined).  Whilst I marvelled at Professor McCaughrean as he outlined the staggeringly clever maths and physics that go into landing an explorer on a comet, Jamie took it in his stride, accepting it simply as a component part of the science that goes into space exploration.  He is quite beyond my level of understanding in matters of the Universe and will never be able to turn to me for help with his homework; not that he needs my assistance; his independence, diligence and skills in the maths and science disciplines are more than enough to see him through, although he does have the physicists disdain for what he considers to be biological nonsense.

He will inevitably follow his path in the world and my role, I now realise, is not to lead him down a route that I would follow, but rather be there to support him along the road, doing what I can to make it as smooth a ride as possible.

It is right to have dreams for our children, but they shouldn’t be what we had as our own.  The dream should be that they are happy and free to pursue their dreams.  One should dream too, that through hard work, endeavour and if it takes it, luck, they achieve them.  That is a dream worthy of any parent. 

Of course, all that said, Jamie realising those dreams may not help to diminish the pain I felt when, in all seriousness, he asked me, “Dad, what is the point of football?”

Stating the bleedin' obvious

Why does there appear to be a presumption that having once been great footballers, players will naturally be able to make a seamless transition from pitch to punditry?

Admittedly, some make the leap into broadcasting effortlessly.  Gary Lineker, for example, has a natural affinity for the camera; his talent as a presenter is wholly apparent.  So too is that of one of his co-presenters on Match of the Day, Alan Hansen, whose analysis of a game is excellent, if not predictable as he routinely assassinates defences that fail to meet the standards he believed he set as a player. In fairness, he was quite handy as a central defender, but his line of banter lacks a little variation.  It'd be lovely if, for a change, a goal was brilliantly crafted by the team that scored it, rather than if being gifted to them as a result of some imagined defensive frailties that the dour Scot has spotted.

That said, Messrs Lineker and Hansen do at least manage to entertain without the need to resort too often to tired clichés, the most ubiquitous being "It was a game of two halves", "At the end of the day, the better team won" or something equally banal from the manager of a team that has just been soundly thrashed uttering the enlightening comment that "We're going to need to tighten up a bit at the back".  Most of these are forgivable, after all, the media is seeking a sound bite from a person whose job it is to mould and shape a winning football team rather than provide BAFTA winning performances for the camera.

Yet when a player is recruited to provide commentary, one would hope that the broadcaster responsible for their employ would find someone who can provide the viewing or listening audience with insights that are drawn from a deep knowledge of the sport that enriches our understanding of the game or the talent that we are watching.

Graham Le Saux's comment on Radio 4 this morning that "... to win the tournament it's vital they [England] get through to the second round" was absolutely correct, but staggeringly obvious.  I'm left scratching my head wondering if there's a possibility of an outsider sneaking World Cup victory by failing to get to the playoffs.  Hell, perhaps even New Zealand could win it this year having failed to qualify for the tournament.  I live in hope.

It all begs the question, why do we have to listen to so many pundits that provide us with words not to illuminate, but with utterances that cause me to reach for the PC to deliver a mild rant?  Pearls of wisdom that engender such behaviour stem from some of the most respected players of their time, who prove, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that being a great footballer does not necessarily lead to skills in oratory.

When reviewing the Premier League table earlier this year, Graham Souness uttered the following profound statement, "It's anybody's guess, but one of the teams in that league will win it". You don't say Graham.  His pronouncement was so astonishingly obvious as to render his co-commentator momentarily speechless as he tried to conjure a response that wouldn't make him sound similarly amoebic.

I was depressed too, to listen to Michael Owen getting highly agitated over a league match between two sides towards the bottom end of the table proclaim, "Both of these sides want to win".  Are you sure Michael? I suspect one of them was desperately trying to gift the game to the opposition so that they might languish at the foot of the table, relishing more than the other side the prospect of relegation.

Thankfully, Graham Le Saux's comments allowed me to appreciate that dodgy punditry isn't limited just to ex-Liverpool players; regrettably, our airwaves are overflowing with former players who probably get taken to the studio by their carers.  With the World Cup a little over a week away, I am tempted to watch with the volume off, lest I find myself mildly vexed at proclamations of the bleedin' obvious.  This however would deprive me of the joy that stems from calling a passage of play identically to that of the commentator or pundit, which leads me momentarily to believe that I may have missed a calling in broadcasting.

Notwithstanding the above, I am greatly looking forward to the tournament, even more so now that I have heard from Graham Le Saux.  I'm going to rush off to the bookmakers now to put a tenner on New Zealand to win.  Stranger things have happened.

Te Omanga Hospice and the Raid Alpine challenge

Dear all

 

In December last year I lost my sister, Tracey, to lung cancer. 

 

Following her diagnosis, we were lucky enough to be able to head back to New Zealand in July 2013 to spend some time with her and her family.  During that time we witnessed the outstanding care and support that she was receiving from the Te Omanga hospice, which also supported my mother during her final days.

 

We also talked about my cycling ventures and what the plans were for this year and having already spoken with my fellow riders, I was able to make a pledge to her that we would ride in her honour this year, and seek to raise money for Te Omanga.  At the time, I little suspected that the ride would be a memorial to her, but such are the ravages of the illness.

 

So forgive me for reaching out cap in hand, but I'm sure you'll appreciate that this is a very worthy cause which relies heavily on the funding it receives from donors such as you.

 

Our challenge this year is a big one, and I have to question my sanity when agreeing to sign up for it, but I'm on that path...
 

The Raid Alpine challenge

Eight MAMILs (middle aged men in lycra), supported by two very forgiving and patient ladies, will cross the Alps from Thonon (Geneva) to Antibes (Nice) in 5 days; a challenge normally undertaken over a full week or longer.  Ahead of us lie 721 kilometres of road that wend with 16,000+ metres of climbing across 23 cols (mountain passes).  It's akin to getting to the top of Mt Everest, nipping back down to base camp and starting again!  As you can no doubt appreciate, we may have bitten off more than we can chew.  But as I say, it's for a very worthy cause...

 

Te Omanga Hospice

Although the Hospice is half a world away from us here in the UK, I am especially passionate about raising money for them given the support they've provide and their heavy dependence on charitable donations.  In short, they are not as awash with money as other (I'm sure equally worthy) causes, so it will be great to really make a difference if we can. 

 

Given that it's a charitable cause based in New Zealand*, the website that hosts the donation service operates in New Zealand dollars, but will naturally take UK based credit cards.  The exchange rate at the moment is around £1 = $1.98, so please remember to double the figure you would normally pay in sterling!

 

In order to make a donation, please visit: 

 

https://www.givealittle.co.nz/cause/2014raidalpinechallenge

 

Thank you all for lending your support to Te Omanga.  Please know that they will be providing comfort and respite to a great number of people who might otherwise be lost without them.

 

All the very best

 

 

Craig

 

* With apologies to my friends in New Zealand, the exchange rate you should use is NZ$1 = NZ$1 :-)