Dear WSC
In his article on football in film (WSC 278) Rob Hughes quite rightly says that the most convincing football scene ever takes place in Ken Loach’s classic 1969 film Kes. I attended the school that Barry Hines, author of a Kestrel For A Knave, worked in as a teacher. Mr Sugden, while probably never acknowledged by Hines, is clearly based on our old games teacher, Ron “Rocket Ronnie” Hallam. Ron was driven by a will to win at all costs and a classic Ronnie-ism was said to me when I tried out for the school team as an 11-year-old, “goalkeeping’s an art son”. I can still hear him say those words. In fairness to Ronnie he was right. I was never much of a footballer but was occasionally prone to bouts of brilliance. One such example came against Rocket Ron. He was playing a sweeper role when a ball was played forward for me to run on to. I pushed the ball past Ronnie and advanced on goal, easily rounded the full-back and slotted the ball under the advancing goalie. As I wheeled away, delighted with my goal, Ronnie was whistling furiously. He was yelling “offside, offside”. When I said that was rubbish he sent me off for arguing with the ref. Ronnie Hallam may well have been too keen to win at times but he was fantastically knowledgeable about football and cricket, and we didn’t waste much time on cross-country running. Some of Ronnie’s protégés went on to play professionally – the Shirtliff brothers turned out for Sheffield Wednesday among others and Steve Shutt played for Barnsley. Ian Swallow passed up football for a pretty successful cricketing career with Yorkshire. I guess one big disappointment was that Ronnie’s son, Matthew, never reached those heights. Rocket Ronnie though. A living legend.
John Hague, Leicester
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Stories
It is not only the FA Cup that mixes minnows with giants: county cups do so, too. Gavin Willacy champions these wrongly neglected events
Having despatched Northern League Second Division strugglers Prudhoe, Newcastle United face the University of Northumbria in the cup quarter-finals. This is not fantasy football, FIFA 08, or Football Manager. It’s the Northumberland Senior Cup, one of the many county cups that feature Premier League giants taking on not only players who are unknown outside of their front doors, but whole teams that few people have even heard of. In the midst of the 21st century sports business world, they are as much of an anachronism as the Boat Race, the Varsity Match or cricket festivals.
London clubs are shining at the highest levels, but some lesser lights in the city are in steep decline. Gavin Willacy charts the struggles of former semi-pro giants brought low in part by property prices
On August 15, Enfield FC marked the 25th anniversary of their first home game in the Conference. It was their first home game of the season, a local derby and, as on that day in 1981, was played alongside the A10. The car park was packed. Unfortunately, the drivers were there to play five-a-side next door to Ware FC, 13 miles from Enfield’s spiritual home. The home end was populated by just 13 Enfield fans and one pram (occupied), who bayed throughout their home defeat to Potters Bar Town in the Ryman League Division One North.
With only one promotion left until the Football League beckons, St Albans City now have the money on board for required ground improvements. Steve Menary reports
To most non-League clubs, a marketing officer is an unaffordable luxury. John Gibson tends to agree. When Verry, a £100 million turnover construction firm owned by Gibson, opened a new office in St Albans four years ago, he decided that instead of hiring a marketing man he would buy the local team. “Their manager played for a pub team I ran. He said, ‘The club’s in real trouble, can you help?’ ” says Gibson. “I was going to get a marketing manager but decided to spend the £50,000 to £60,000 a year that would cost on a club.”
After years of coughing up whatever it cost to watch Preston, Gavin Willacy has had enough. Or rather, too much, as ticket prices spiral beyond common sense
Last August Bank Holiday was a pivotal day for me as a football fan. For the first time, I decided against going to watch my team, Preston, solely because of the ticket price. We were away at Ipswich – a relatively local game for me, living in Hertford – and I was away on holiday when we won down the road at Watford on opening day. So surely I would go to Portman Road? Not with tickets at £25 a pop (plus an extra two quid on the day!), especially as it was live on Sky. Instead I watched it in a pub and celebrated our astonishing 4-0 win with friends at a barbecue.