Badge of the week ~ Pandan XIV, Brunei
For a long time in the nation of Brunei, short trousers imported from the west for sporting or leisure purposes were, owing to an inconsistency of measurements between Europe and south-east Asia, significantly smaller than anticipated. The players of Pandan were not the only ones to struggle with their new kit but, instead of sending them right back to the supplier like everyone else, Pandan’s first chairman instructed his players to wear them anyway.
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Hitchin Town’s historic Top Field stadium is under threat as the trust who look after the site want to sell it to a supermarket, explains John Carter
On October 8 a packed meeting at Hitchin Town FC heard the club’s managing director, Andy Melvin, reveal that their ground, which is due to celebrate its 150th anniversary next year, was to be replaced by a supermarket. He explained how the executive had been presented with a non-negotiable offer by their landlords, Hitchin Cow Commoners Trust. They were required to sign a 25-year lease containing a five-year break clause, invokable should a store be permitted on the site. In compensation the club would move to an as yet unbuilt stadium outside town, to face an indeterminate future.
Manchester City are the new champions but, as Tony Curran explains, their unethical hoarding of players has tarnished their Premier League victory
Harry Dowd was a goalkeeper who played for Manchester City during their glory years of the late 1960s and early 1970s. He was a reasonable keeper but apparently an excellent plumber. Legend has it that he used to negotiate job offers with crowd members behind his goal, offering competitive rates for bathroom re-fits when play was at the other end.
by Simon Jordan
Yellow Jersey Press, £18.99
Reviewed by Matthew Barker
From WSC 306 August 2012
Simon Jordan has never been the easiest of people to warm to. The public perception has generally been that of a perma-tanned flash git and there is little in this book to suggest otherwise. However, plenty enjoyed those inspired rants in his short series of Observer columns (“If I see another David Gold interview on the poor East End Jewish boy done good I’ll impale myself on one of his dildos,” etc).
Anyone hoping for more of the same in this autobiography is going to be disappointed. Yes, there is some fun to be had here, but the prose can be so clunky at times, full of bland cliches and feeble geezerisms, that it is clear Jordan benefited from a decent sub-editor when it came to his newspaper work.
The arc of Jordan’s time at Selhurst Park encompasses some crucial moments, both for Crystal Palace and English football at large. Beginning with the failure of ITV Digital and ending with his club in administration nine years later, there is a simmering anger in these pages, erupting in a perfect storm after 2004’s promotion and Iain Dowie quitting after the traumas of the following season. The fallout was bitter. To prove a charge of fraudulent misrepresentation in the ensuing court case, investigators even seized the departed coach’s laptop.
Jordan is keen throughout to portray himself as the progressive young buck, kicking against the grey-haired, grey-suited establishment of club owners. Some of the promised score-settling turns out to be pretty tame. It is no great surprise that David Sullivan comes across as a nasty little man, making a point of loudly asking Jordan in the middle of the Birmingham boardroom if he was gay. The witty riposte – “Why? Do you fancy a crack at me?” – was equally crass.
Former Charlton chairman Richard Murray challenges Jordan to a fight after an invitation to lunch is turned down, while Steve Coppell, Peter Taylor and Trevor Francis are all portrayed as cheerless mopes of varying degrees. Steve Bruce, despite the whole gardening leave episode, remains “a firm friend”.
There is, as you might expect, a fair bit of bragging too. Our man flits between his “exclusive Chelsea penthouse suite” and Puerto Banus, living in a world full of “beautiful ladies”. Even more galling is his boasting about his friendship with former Wimbledon chairman Charles Koppel, a “close ally against all football bullshit”.
For all that, reading the final chapters, Jordan’s frustration and eventual weary resignation as he bemoans the grip of agents and watches as a succession of homegrown talent leaves the club, is palpable. The passages describing his attempts to avoid insolvency have a gripping inevitability; the sums of money quoted are startling and depressing. Jordan invested and lost a lot. And you have to feel for him.
Palace appear to have done better than most clubs after the shock of administration, but the game’s landscape continues to alter and present new challenges, with the Elite Player Performance Plan and Financial Fair Play both starting to kick in. Maybe Jordan should write a column about it.
Apparently Coventry City only had to win their five remaining home games to save themselves from relegation to League One, but that proved to be easier said than done, writes Ed Wilson
Forget fancy notions of skill and tactics. Relegation battles, the professionals tell us, are all about belief. Nobody – not the manager, players or supporters – believes Coventry can stay up more than the psychotically optimistic radio presenter I am listening to on the way to today’s game. For him, survival is almost guaranteed. “All we have to do,” he insists, “is win our remaining five home games.” He is not deflated by the knowledge they have managed only seven victories all season. They are due a change of fortune. You begin to wonder what it would take to undermine his chirpiness. His wife could ask for a divorce during Donna and Althea’s Uptown Top Ranking and he would be back on air seconds later, joshing his way through the traffic and travel.