The Duncan McKenzie Story
by Duncan McKenzie and David Saffer
Vertical Editions, £17.99
Reviewed by Mark O'Brien
From WSC 274 December 2009
Duncan McKenzie openly admits that his style of play divided opinions. There were those who saw him as a luxury player, while others considered him the sort of maverick who could unlock defences in an era, the 1970s, when men like Ron Harris and Tommy Smith would emasculate forwards as soon as look at them.
Going to your first football match isn't always memorable for the normal reasons, as Josh Widdicombe explains
With the exceptions of the third round of the FA Cup and the career of Stan Bowles, few things are over-romanticised by the average football fan more than their first visit to a live match. So, as a man easily won over by a nostalgic ideal, I have long bought into the received wisdom that to be a proper fan your first taste of professional football in the flesh must have been like some sort of religious conversion; rather than just sitting in a cold church hoping the monotonous service would soon be over.
Loftus Road has become a must-see destination for A-list celebs and reclusive billionaires, apparently – but this mysterious turn of events is yet to make much difference to facilities for fans or to the quality of the team, even if QPR are strong enough to see off promoted rivals, writes Taylor Parkes
When I was six, too young to have a team but old enough to understand, someone approached me in the playground and asked who I supported. In the late Seventies, any answer other than “Liverpool” was going to invite derision, but for once in my life I was determined to avoid the easy option. “Queens Park Rangers,” I replied, randomly, and was almost blown over by forced, hysterical laughter. “Hahahahaha – they’re rubbish!” This may have been true (they went down that year), but it struck me as somewhat ungracious coming from a six-year-old glory hunter. Ten minutes later, a stranger approached me and said: “I heard you support Queens Park Rangers.” I played along: “Yes, I do.” “Hahahahaha,” they said. “Hahahahahaha!”
Having a fag at matches was all but outlawed on July 1 and football has been pushing tobacco away for a while. But, as Jon Spurling explains, the game and the weed have had a surprisingly close relationship
“There’s nothing better than lying back in the bath and having a good smoke after a game,” claimed Bolton striker Nat Lofthouse in the 1950s. This post-match relaxation technique has long been consigned to the historical dustbin, so much so that there is always a frisson of disapproval whenever a high-profile footballer is caught with a cigarette. Zinedine Zidane, having previously endorsed the EU’s “Feel Free To Say No” campaign, was castigated by the French media after being snapped taking a crafty drag shortly before France’s semi-final against Portugal at last year’s World Cup. With FIFA and UEFA refusing to allow tobacco advertising at any international tournaments over the last eight years, the previously strong ties between the tobacco industry and football appear to have been severed.
Thirty years ago a west London club very nearly won the title – and it would have been a popular success, too. Graham Dunbar recalls QPR's finest 42 games
It is April 17, 2006, Easter Monday, and Queens Park Rangers lose 3-2 at Norwich in the definitive meaningless and mediocre end-of-season game. Two teams playing second-rate, second-tier football in what could be the worst five-goal affair anyone has seen; a match with no significance beyond reminding both clubs that the Premiership is a distant dream.