Articles from When Saturday Comes. All 27 years of WSC are in the process of being added. This may take a while.
Simon Evans explains why eastern European clubs are staying loyal to UEFA despite being frozen out of the Champions League
Grey-haired sixty-somethings in conservative suits, with small badges on their left lapels, firmly shook hands, slapped backs, kissed one another on the cheeks and greeted each other in Russian. It might have been a scene from any party congress in the past five decades, but this was 1998 and the first-ever meeting of eastern European football associations.
Dear WSC
I’m stunned. Whilst channel hopping for some late night smut, I came across none other than Garth Crooks hosting an in-depth politico-chat show, Des-patch Box.I sat transfixed as Garth, a man whose normal journalistic beat leads him to doing humourous pieces on the shopping trips of the Reggae Boyz or Graham Kelly’s musical tastes, spent air-time slapping down Austin Mitchell’s views on the strong pound, summarizing the extradiction of Pin-ochet and probing into why the Welsh Secretary resigned.I first of all dismissed his presence on such a programme as a fluke, poor Garth being pressed into service when a Paxman clone went down with lumbago, chucked a copy of the Independent and told to get in front of the camera. But no! Garth gave a much more measured display than he ever did for Man Utd. At the end of the show he astound-ed me by announcing that he’d be back next Thursday.As a mere lad when Garth was in his prime for Spurs, I remember Tony Galvin being championed by the Topical Times as a major intellectual force because he had a degree in Russian. Shoot! thought Chris Hughton a real academic because he read the Guardian rather than the Mirror. But now know who was the true colossus of culture – Garth Crooks.I can only wonder at what Mark Falco and Gary Brook are doing now – teaching juris-prudence at Oxford and developing new forms of antibiotics, perhaps?
James Kerr, York
Matt Nation tackles Jimmy Hill's life story, and a few demons of his own
His nickname was “Dirt”, he taught us chemistry and he had the demeanour and looks of a bar-room brawler in a road movie. For years, he shouted, smote and browbeat in order to gain what loosely resembled respect. Then one day, a group of fifth-formers locked him in the school greenhouse and treated it to a barrage of rocks. Even those of us who were too well brought-up or too faint-hearted to propel lumps of mortar at a figure of authority willed every missile to strike Dirt in the solar plexus at the very least. And then, last year, Dirt died, and a lot of those whom he had caused to whimper felt bad, and had no idea why this should be.
A Danish superstar's decision could kick off a worrying trend in modern football
It doesn’t look like Gareth Barry will ever get the chance to measure his skills against Brian Laudrup. The rain that washed out Chelsea’s game against Aston Villa on October 31st, and Laudrup’s decision to quit Chelsea just two months into a three-year contract, meant the 17-year-old was spared that particular examination. But nevertheless the recent histories of the two players are linked. Their respective transfers, both in the news this month but at opposite ends of the price range, offer hints about the way teams may have to be built in the future.
A Cinderella story gives welcome exposure to the fledgling American competiton, writes Nick Patience
Although the championship game of the third season of Major League Soccer (MLS) in the US didn’t quite go the way most observers thought it would, you won’t hear any complaints from the soccer authorities, who are still struggling to get widespread recognition for a sport that ranks fifth at best in most sport fans’ eyes.