Dear WSC
Trevor Fisher (Letters, WSC 301) is nearly right. When Alex Ferguson was accused of driving on the hard shoulder in 1999, he hired Nick “Mr Loophole” Freeman as his lawyer. They argued successfully that he should not be punished as he was
suffering from an upset stomach and needed to get to the training ground quickly to use the toilet. I have always slightly suspected he got away with it because nobody in the courtroom wanted to spend a moment longer than necessary with that gruesome, messy mental image in their head. Which is now in your head. No need to thank me.
Jim Caris, Prague
Search: 'Subbuteo'
Stories
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.
Pile of broken players too many to count , suitable for a repairer or restore , in various states of disrepair , some just broken from bases others missing an arm or a leg or both or head , some broken from fixing lugds , some just cracked ankles, etc , various weights both light and heavy , even an odd flat player , I will not throw out any broken subbuteo if it can be of use to anybody. NO BASE INCLUDED
IN THIS LOT(well just an odd one with a glued player on it). NO RETURNS ON THIS ITEM AS IT IS STATED TO BE FAULTY.
Our web awards focus on the best footballing blogs, fanzines and websites. Ian Plenderleith gives his view on why each is worthy the accolade
It’s that time of year when we finally say something nice about what’s on the internet, and the 2010 Web Awards focus on what may be considered classic fanzine virtues – independence, originality, wit and selfless involvement in a game that seems intent on distancing itself from a fanbase whose cash it wants and needs, but which in many corners still stubbornly refuses to sink into the passive role of slavish devotee. Our by-no-means comprehensive selection of sites, some of them consistent enough to be held over from last year’s awards, reflects the necessity of a watchful ethical eye, the redemption of satire and an increasing awareness of the need to analyse the game’s business side. The web may be clogged with bothersome ads, unhinged anger and celebrities masquerading as columnists, but there’s resistance too. Support your team, but support too the many voices of sanity who still care that teetering crises contrast daily with high-spend lunacy.
Al Needham gets nostalgic over a clash of two sides still hoping to return to a time of former glories
I don’t mean to bang on about the past, but this fixture really brings it out in me. Forest v Ipswich was the first game I ever went to, on October 4, 1977. I stood as a nine-year-old in the Trent End with Ian Marriott and his dad, gasping at the sight of the blues and reds merging with the green, floodlit pitch – just like the picture on the Subbuteo box that I’d just got from him in exchange for an Action Man (in one of those undersized tanks, where his arms hung over the side) – my head fizzing as Kenny Burns, Peter Shilton and Viv Anderson ran about in front of me just like they did on the telly.