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The Archive

Articles from When Saturday Comes. All 27 years of WSC are in the process of being added. This may take a while.

 

Firm favourites

Taylor Parkes reviews two films about football fighting which despite contrasting styles offer similarly dispiriting end products

It’s not hard to see why film-makers are so fond of football hooliganism. Like the slasher movie or the zombie flick, the hooligan film is a ready-made genre that requires little imagination – it comes complete with thrills and spills, a handful of simple and durable plotlines, obvious characters and motivations, and the possibility of redemption. It gives your film, however poor, immediate appeal to people who like this sort of thing (thugs or ex-thugs, thin-armed daydreamers with a prurient interest in violence), and you can deflect criticism by claiming your movie is “authentic” and “gritty” –even when it is, in truth, no more realistic than In The Night Garden. The fact that your product is repulsive on every level need not concern you. Indeed, it’s kind of the point.

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Leicester City 1997

Leicester’s tussles with Atlético Madrid left fans simmering at injustice but, as Saul Pope recalls, these were heady days

Eleven years ago their fans would have never accepted it, but Leicester City’s UEFA Cup first round tie against Atlético Madrid in September 1997 will probably be as good as it gets. Leicester didn’t win the game, but for a time they were leading thanks to a player once described by the club fanzine The Fox as looking “knackered whenever he ran on to a football field”.

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Going whereabouts

Tim Springett looks at the latest edict from the World Anti-Doping Agency and its implications for football

If ever there was a topic that cried out for rational debate, it is the issue of drug use by sports people. Sadly, rationality has long since been buried under a tidal wave of self-righteousness. Even though football has far from the worst record of participants seeking to gain an illicit advantage through drugs, it seems constantly to be first in line for the bile of commentators and opinion-formers whenever the subject is raised. The usual mantra – that football’s procedures for drug testing lag way behind other sports – has been repeated so often it seems almost pointless to question it. To this can be added the well-known fact that every professional footballer is an overpaid prima donna.

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Football coverage interrupted

Cameron Carter on extreme tourists disrupting his regular football fix

You know when people tell you that things were better in the olden days: the wars were more righteous, the bank notes bigger and crinklier, bread really tasted of bread and so on? Well, we forward-looking rationalists come right back at them with higher life expectancy, 24-hour garages and Doritos, which absolutely silences the fools. But then there are some modern innovations that are so wrong that the argument is immediately lost again. Match of the Day 2 on March 15 was interrupted halfway through by Adrian Chiles to inform us that the next programme on BBC2 was High Altitude and would feature two glittering-eyed hearties ski-biking across Iceland. They actually showed these men in the snow contemplating the difficulty of their challenge. To put that into context: that’s two minutes of preview footage of a couple of extreme tourism bores biffing on about the terrible weather on an Icelandic glacier. In my quality football time.

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A momentary lapse of appreciation

Matt Nation’s enjoyment of sixth-tier football in Germany has taken a hit. A long bike ride to the game was just the start of an afternoon of play-acting, clumsy football and dodgy sausages

Just as titles are proverbially won or lost on wet weekday evenings against the league’s dunces, cycling to a football match into a headwind without a handkerchief will make you reconsider whether you attend sixth-tier football because you like it or because you’ve not got the resources to do anything else. After 15 miles on a blustery trunk road, not even the most carefully placed boys’ brigade blow will prevent your cuffs from looking like they’ve been overrun by a battalion of molluscs. Getting to this game has made you look and feel disgusting. Your willingness to turn a blind eye is thus slightly lower than it might otherwise be.

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