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When the FA Cup really mattered Vol 3
by Matthew Eastley
Pitch Publishing, £14.99
Reviewed by Jonathan Paxton
From WSC 342 August 2015

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It’s hard to imagine Aston Villa or even Arsenal fans looking back on this year’s FA Cup final with much nostalgia but a dip into Matthew Eastley’s entertaining trip through finals from the 1980s is a pleasant reminder of why the competition’s heritage means so much to fans of a certain age. This was a time when Cup runs excited whole communities and smaller clubs had genuine hopes of reaching Wembley and lifting the famous trophy.

The stories, told chronologically from West Ham’s win over Arsenal in 1980, are recalled by fans in their own words and the absence of journalistic hyperbole is welcome. Interviews with supporters at Wembley on the day gives the stories a down-to-earth quality and fans of all clubs will understand quirks such as the West Ham fan who stuffs his Wembley ticket in his Y-fronts for safe keeping. Referencing hit singles and news stories of the day is a standard, if predictable way of placing the events in time but, by having fans recall the horrendous fashions of the era, we identify closely with them.

The other device used by Eastley is to revisit TV coverage of the day’s build-up and match. Cup final editions of Mastermind and It’s A Knockout are recalled with little affection and one wonders how Michael Barrymore blacking up to greet John Barnes at the Watford team hotel in 1984 was ever considered appropriate. Yes, we’ve all seen Ricky Villa’s goal and Gordon Smith’s miss but Eastley still manages to maintain some tension when describing matches and even the dire 1982 final is injected with drama. Some match reports (particularly from earlier rounds) do get a little stat heavy however and transcripts of John Motson’s commentary and basic descriptions of well-known action don’t add much to our knowledge of the matches. The occasional nugget does appear though: the tragic story of Welsh international winger Alan Davies (a winner in 1983 with Manchester United) is briefly touched upon and feels like it deserves its own book.

While there is no nostalgia for hooliganism, anecdotes of fans sneaking onto the opposing terraces are written with a sense of cheeky fun but descriptions of a dilapidated Wembley and crowd congestion are ominous. For those who fail to get tickets through the official channels, going directly to touts is seen as a perfectly viable option at the time and poor policing and stewarding is the norm. The author deserves great credit for his handling of the 1989 final.

Whether a supporter of the clubs involved or not, most fans will find something to identify with here. Those around at the time will enjoy the evocative memories but for younger fans, brought up on Sky coverage and all-seat stadiums, the sport may be unrecognisable. While it will probably find more warmth in Brighton and Coventry than in Liverpool or Manchester, this is an enjoyable retrospective of a time when Cup finals did actually stay long in the memory.

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Forget the Euros and Olympics, England’s best chance of glory this summer could come on hallowed Subbuteo turf writes Tom Hocking

Among endless aisles of Lego Harry Potter, Ben 10 figures and another new version of Cluedo – this time with added rooms – at the Toy Fair 2012 in London was John Barnes. He turned up to relaunch one of the most iconic toy, and football, brands of the 1970s.

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It is important to consider the position of black Liverpool fans in the aftermath of the Luis Suarez race row, writes Janice Allen-Brade

I am a football fan, I have lived in Liverpool for 14 years and I am black. The controversy over the racist abuse case between Luis Suárez and Patrice Evra has made me rethink my feelings towards the city and Liverpool supporters. But that is nothing compared to the dilemmas faced by Liverpool’s black fans. In all the debate about this issue their perspective has been overlooked.

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David Stubbs looks at the tabloids’ unique style of football reporting

In Chris Horrie and Peter Chippindale’s Stick It Up Your Punter!, their study of the Sun during the 1980s editorship of Kelvin MacKenzie, the authors recount a journalists’ strike during which sub-editors had to write up the football match reports. Wizened old cynics that they were, they decided to turn the task into an exercise of which of them could come up with the most meaningless cliche with which to pad out their copy. The winner was “kick and rush glory boys”.

As with tabloid coverage across the board, their headlines, straplines and copy have, over the past quarter of a century, generated a tag cloud of grab-bag buzz-words – “blast”, “probe”, “lions”, “tragedy”, “flops”, “fury”, “blast”, “swoop”, “sensational”, “glory”, “shame”, “thugs”, “heroes”, and so forth. Not a great deal has changed in 
this respect.
Some have fallen by the way with time. Gary Lineker was habitually described as “hot-shot” back in his mid-1980s pomp, a mode of description which eventually died of hackneyed shame. Even “skipper” seems in danger of extinction.

All of these words have one thing in common. Like the word “pesky”, which was only ever uttered by the likes of Little Plum in the Beano, they are at once deadeningly familiar and yet unspoken by actual people in real life, least of all tabloid readers. A particular example of this is “shaker”, used not to allude to a member of The United Society of Believers in Christ’s Second Appearing, but to convey in six letters an injury scare.

These devices also function to contrast with the inconsequential reality of the football world on a day-to-day basis, as well as the warily, dully discreet equivocations favoured by players and managers when talking to journalists. Much as on Football Focus they’re forced to jazz up a teeth-grindingly tedious interview with a Scott Parker by switching in and out of grainy black and white or zooming in on his hands, so these words add a falsely incendiary gloss.

So, in October 1986, we read in the Daily Mirror that Tony Adams was Gunning For Kerry Dixon on the eve of an Arsenal v Chelsea fixture. Here are the fighting words from Adams whose psychologically warfaring mood that headline captures: “All First Division strikers need careful watching and facing Kerry will be another good test for me.”

Look for sensationalist cliche and you would assume the first port of call to be the Sun. It’s certainly had its moments of crass extremism, such as Argies Get Their Revenge, following England’s World Cup exit to the Hand of God goal in 1986, or the pillorying of Messrs Robson and Taylor. However, it’s almost disappointing to find, on closer inspection, that their coverage throughout the 1980s and 90s was restrained by the standards of the rest of the paper.

So, when flicking through its 1980s pages, with those abysmal Franklin cartoons, red-baiting and headlines like Rape: Why Men Are Hidden Victims, there is also relatively considered prose from the likes of Martin Samuel. Nothing masterly, mind, still tabloidese, with every paragraph beginning with the words “And” or “But”. Yet by no means as addled or moronic as you might fear. Even in 1996, though the coverage of England’s semi-final against Germany is depressingly festooned in flags of St George, there is virtually no “Kraut” bashing.

That, infamously, could not be said for the Mirror under Piers Morgan’s editorship. It was prior to England v Germany that he produced the mock-up cover of Stuart Pearce and Gazza in tin helmets and the Achtung! Surrender headline, a stunt which he recently described as prompting a “massive sense of humour failure” on the part of his detractors. It turns out he unapologetically regards the cover as a sense of humour 
success.

This wasn’t a one-off. From the mid-1980s onwards, the Mirror was more startlingly prone to martial imagery than its Wapping counterpart, real Orwellian “war minus the shooting” stuff, tastelessly so a time when hooligan firms were squaring up to each other for real – indeed, you could read all about these “thugs” and their “nights of shame” on the aghast Mirror back pages.

The word “killer” is deployed frequently and airily on its back pages, Leeds manager Billy Bremner is “blitz Billy”, Paul and Clive Allen, up against each other for QPR and Spurs, are a “family at war”. Man Utd are “shell-shocked” to be beaten 1-0 at Wimbledon, while a 15,000-strong fans’ petition to regain the their ground and presence at a club meeting goes under the headline 
VALLEY WAR. The gruesome, bloody details follow – police were called as directors Derek Ufton and Michael Norris “reeled under a barrage of questions”.

Then, of course, there are those trenches, from which the likes of Crystal Palace are forever charging “with bayonets fixed”, in which burly, yeomen English defenders line up side by side, in which the real nitty-gritty business of football is conducted, and to which the foreign influx would probably be averse. In the Daily Express, in 1992, James Lawton worried about how “battle hardened” Eric Cantona, then of Leeds, would prove in the impending Premier League season, in a piece titled Dainty Eric Must Face Up To Trench Warfare.

If foreigners weren’t conspicuous in tabloid-land decades ago, black footballers certainly were. If you hadn’t noticed in the 1980s that John Barnes, for instance, was black, then the tabloids were on hand with constant reminders. He was, in 1988, our “brightest black pearl”, or, according to Emlyn Hughes, the “best black player ever produced in this country”, an important distinction. In 1986, Steve Curry in the Express felt obliged to describe the “happy Calypso manner” in which Barnes told him he would be prepared to play anywhere for England.

However, when Barnes, Ricky Hill and Brian Stein flew unannounced to Jamaica to take part in a fundraising match there was Fury At Missing Black Aces in the Mirror. Much has remained constant in tabloid coverage. Though Wayne Rooney’s rise has prompted a depressing increase in the penchant for dreadful name-based puns, the England team still vacillate between “lionhearts” and “flops”, as opposed to the routinely, chronically middling 
mediocrities that they are. But some things at least have changed for the better.

From WSC 295 September 2011

With more live football broadcasted every season, should players and managers start showing more respect on and off the field?

FA Cup broadcasts are often introduced by a montage of winning captains brandishing the trophy. Liverpool’s victory in the 1992 final never gets shown, however, because their captain, Mark Wright was clearly seen to shout “You fucking beauty!” as he raised the Cup over his head. Wright was one of the more belligerent players of his era so it’s quite likely that this was a spontaneous outburst. It’s also possible that it was an in-joke, referring to the fact that a Liverpool team-mate, John Barnes, had shouted exactly the same thing – seen in close-up, on live TV – when his last-minute free-kick forced extra time against Portsmouth in the semi-final.

Neither incident seems to have triggered a reaction in the media. More live matches are now transmitted every month than were shown in the whole of 1991-92. There will be moments in every live game that the camera catches a player swearing, at a team-mate, an opponent, a referee or in a celebratory hug after a goal. If every oath had to be accounted for in the post-match analysis, there would be no time to discuss the game.

So it’s difficult to understand why Wayne Rooney’s outburst after completing his hat-trick in Man United’s recent win at West Ham should have become one of the most widely discussed moments of the season, one that, at the time of writing, seems likely to be punished by a two-match ban.

Rooney’s mental state has been the subject of intense speculation since the 2010 World Cup when he swore into a TV camera in response to boos from the England fans after the match against Algeria. That incident did further damage to a public image already dented by the tabloids’ forensic exploration of his private life. Rooney has appeared to be unsettled ever since, his sullen demeanour not lifted by a recent improvement in form. Someone on a basic weekly wage of £250,000 can’t expect to receive much sympathy but some of the derision aimed at Rooney by sections of the press seems to be rooted in resentment that someone from his background should earn as much as he does.

It’s been said that if leading a blameless life was a prerequisite for being England captain, hardly anyone in the current international squad would be eligible for the armband. But they are fêted as celebrities by the same media that routinely vilifies them. Rooney’s outburst at Upton Park was caught on screen because a cameraman followed him around the side of the pitch and stuck a lens in his face. Sky boast about their ability to make the viewers feel as though they are in the middle of the action but while TV is keen to be seen as a participant in football – as witnessed by its ceaseless lobbying for the introduction of technology – it is still only an observer. Swearing at a referee rightly earns a card; doing the same thing to a camera lens might look crass but it shouldn’t be actionable.

The FA’s reaction to the Rooney incident has been presented as a boost to the ailing Respect campaign which is due for one of its regular overhauls. There is little doubt that players are becoming increasingly disrespectful to match officials, who are further undermined by television’s intense scrutiny of every decision. Managers could take steps to curb their players’ behaviour. If they don’t it can only be because they believe that intimidating an official can have positive benefits.

The Premier League’s chief executive, Richard Scudamore, is to give evidence to a parliamentary select committee on football this month, at which he is expected to announce that a retooled Respect campaign will be in place for the start of 2011-12. But there is no reason to think that it would rein in Wayne Rooney’s boss, who is more disdainful of referees than any other figure in football.

Sir Alex Ferguson received a five- match touchline ban for suggesting, among other things, that referee Martin Atkinson was biased in his handling of a 2-1 defeat at Chelsea in March. He seems unfazed by the punishment, saying: “I got done for what I considered fair comment.” Ferguson often seems to be beyond the control of the football authorities – his failure to speak to the BBC since 2004 is in direct contravention of League rules – but a more rigorous enforcement of the Respect guidelines would surely involve regular confrontations with him.

Scudamore should press for tougher sanctions against Ferguson whenever he oversteps the mark in his criticism of officials. Otherwise campaigns to boost referees’ authority will have no effect until their toughest opponent retires.

From WSC 291 May 2011