Search: ' Peter Schmeichel'

For Notts County fans the last few months have been like no other. Julian McDougall tries to keep up with things

In the second half of 2009 ordinary long-standing Notts County fans were subjected to a series of psycho-political experiments. Novelists from Charles Dickens to Margaret Atwood have stretched social reality to develop extreme scenarios which allow readers to explore their anxieties about the world – blending utopia and dystopia to produce complexity which reflects the ambiguous nature of human thought. But if a writer had made up events at Meadow Lane this season, their publisher would likely reject it as “too far-fetched”. Sven-Göran Eriksson arrives, Kasper Schmeichel signs, Sol Campbell comes, rumours link us to David Beckham, Roberto Carlos, Roberto Mancini and Kevin Keegan. Sol goes. The Guardian print allegations of corruption on a daily basis. Bust before bloody Christmas.

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Some retired footballers go into management, but for many lazing on the cosy pundits' sofa is irresistible. Harry Pearson observes

Back in the 1960s, commentators such as Kenneth Wolstenholme and Huw Johns effectively spent 90 minutes on Saturday afternoon talking to themselves: “Now I wonder what United can come up with in response to that?” They would probe, before replying, after a brief pause: “This boy Brown looks like he may have half an idea!”

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Cameron Carter thought he was just sitting down at his computer, but instead found himself sucked into a whirlpool of bizarre and arcane football clips – plus the odd grilling labrador. That’s YouTube for you

If, for any reason, you were thinking of removing all structure from your life and severing ties with humanity, your first step might be to log in to YouTube and use football as a search theme. I embarked upon this experiment on a recent Friday afternoon with the beautiful phrase “Alan Sunderland 1979” and came up for air when it was dark outside – I think it was Sunday – having weakly tapped in “Monkey Football” and sifted through 599 related titles. YouTube is a separate reality, a democratic film utopia with the implied promise that in the future every image will be captured, nothing will be overlooked and, while you watch, food will be transferred directly into your stomach from a national grid.

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Goalkeepers have always been slow to admit responsibility for any goal their team concedes, but the way they demonstrate this has changed across the ages. Cameron Carter charts the history of these complex blame-shirking gestures and what happens when it all gets too much for them

The Fatalist
If you consider footage from the 1960s and 70s, you will notice that the goalkeeper of this era is a more mild and resigned sort of person in the face of personal failure. After Georgie Best or Jimmy Greaves has sashayed round him and slipped the ball home, our isolated chum will invariably plod into the back of the net and simply tidy up his goal by kicking the ball downfield for the restart. It is as if he is thinking: “Well, this was bound to happen sooner or later. The ball is round, several people out there are intent on getting it into my net. I’m surprised this type of thing doesn’t happen more often.” There is no finger-pointing, no petit mort of the goalmouth lie-down, just a gentlemanly acceptance of the inevitable. Gradually, pioneering individuals such as Gary Sprake would introduce a bit of hands-on-hips action as an aperitif, but it was still a case of fumbling around for the ball afterwards and getting on with the game.

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Fergie very nearly lost his job before any of his league titles. But as Ashley Shaw informs us, he was saved by the Palace

Let’s hope Sir Alex Ferguson enjoys his 20th anniversary a good deal more than his third. Back in 1989 the knives were out after an horrific start to the season, which included a notorious derby defeat and an early exit to Spurs in the League Cup.

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