Pitch Publishing, £16.99
Reviewed by David Pollock
From WSC 425, October 2022
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Stories
Moving to the NASL was a culture shock for many British pros in the 1970s – an extract from Ian Plenderleith‘s book Rock ‘n’ Roll Soccer, which WSC readers can purchase at a discount here
Many young British players arriving to play in the North American Soccer League had no clue about the geography of the United States. “I thought it was the San Francisco Earthquakes. I didn’t know it was San Jose until I read it on my jersey,” said former Newcastle United reserve Derek Craig after signing for San Jose in 1975.
Dear WSC
Although I thoroughly enjoyed the article on footballing statues (Striking a pose, WSC 294) it did miss out one rather infamous example – the Ted Bates horror show of a few years back. This short-lived “tribute” to the former Saints player, manager, director and president was astonishingly inept, with legs roughly half the length they should have been. To add to the indignity, more than once a resemblance to dignity-phobic Portsmouth owner/asset-stripper Milan Mandaric was pointed out. The overall effect was of a top-heavy, inebriated and besuited dwarf waving at passers-by. Not really the ideal summing up a lifetime’s service to a club.
Keith Wright, Cheltenham
Mike Ticher describes the Australian season which saw Eastern Suburbs overcome Marconi Fairfield on goal difference
The long-term significance
As the first national competition of any winter sport in Australia, the National Soccer League (NSL) was hugely ambitious. Unlike Australian rules and rugby league, which spread gradually from their respective strongholds in Melbourne and Sydney, the NSL had to juggle a geographically balanced competition from the start. With impressive sponsorship from Philips, the project was driven by two Sydney club visionaries hoping to build on Australia’s 1974 World Cup exploits: Frank Lowy of the Jewish club Hakoah and Alex Pongrass of St George Budapest.
Maidstone United hoped that the sale of a talented young player would allow them to return home. As John Bunyard explains, this hasn't happened
I first saw it one Saturday as I walked down the side of the Sittingbourne pitch. It was best described as a half-Fellaini: an attempt at an afro curtailed by an over-zealous barber. It sat atop the head of the kid deputising for our regular centre-back, absent for the unlikely reason of being under arrest on a charge of attempted murder. Though a tall lad, he looked too young to buy a drink.