Articles from When Saturday Comes. All 27 years of WSC are in the process of being added. This may take a while.
Davy Millar remembers a welcome disraction from the troubled times that haunted Belfast in the Seventies
Back in 1975 I rarely needed an excuse to leave school as quickly as possible but on April 16 there was a very good reason for making an even quicker departure than usual.
Dear WSC
In WSC 157 there appeared an advertisement for a new book about Reading FC entitled Rusting Tin & Shiny Plastic. I feel obliged to point out that, although tin can certainly corrode, the only metal that actually rusts is iron. Clearly the “football cultural revolution” in Berkshire has failed to bring a knowledge of basic chemistry to the area. Tsk.
Eddie Edwards, via email
They're not the "characters" we've been told they are, claims Matt Nation
Dave Lee Travis used to host a Sunday morning radio show in which he complimented every caller on having a sense of humour “every bit as warped as mine”. The caller would then assure DLT that this couldn’t possibly be true, DLT would then, pricelessly, call him a “pilchard”. And with hardly a thigh being slapped, this naked self-promotion gradually led us to believe that DLT was the funniest man in Britain.
Sam Hammam's players have ruffled a few feathers, but their team spirit and his shrewd management have kept Wimbledon above water longer than anyone expected
It is rare for all the newspapers, tabloid and broadsheet alike, to run the same picture on their sports pages. But it happened at the end of February when they all featured an image of a middle-aged businessman sitting in a puddle. Wimbledon’s former owner Sam Hammam had just sold his remaining 20 per cent stake to the Norwegian millionaires who took control of the club last year. The players marked the event by soaking him at the training ground. As has often been the case with Wimbledon, it was probably fun for those directly involved.
A new type of football violence is emerging in the Italian capital, says Roberto Gotta
Italy has again been surprised by an outbreak of football violence, and moved swiftly, though as usual too late, to correct it. It wasn’t the usual city centre skirmishes but a different kind of violence: political slogans written on large banners and racist chants, a disease which had been spreading for a long time without anyone noticing.