Footballers appearing on Desert Island Discs is a fairly rare occurance. Paul Brown examines what the lucky few choseWSC is not alone celebrating a big anniversary this year. Desert Island Discs, the enduring radio fixture in which celebrity castaways get to choose eight favourite records, plus a book and a luxury item, is building up to its 70th birthday.
Dear WSC
Howard Pattison (Sign of the times, WSC 286) wonders why there are so few official plaques to footballers in London, but goes on to answer his own question: most of the big names from the pre-war era were based in the north-west, and all the more recent players mentioned in the article died less than 20 years ago. The “20-year rule” – which applies to all suggestions made under the London-wide blue plaques scheme – is designed to ensure that the decision to commemorate an individual is a historical judgement, made with the benefit of hindsight. I could agree that Bobby Moore is as good a case as any for making an exception – but where, then, would you draw the line? The blue plaques scheme is run almost entirely on the basis of public suggestions. In recent years, considerable efforts have been made to increase the hitherto small number of nominations that have come in for sporting figures, including footballers. This has brought some success – Laurie Cunningham and Ebenezer Cobb Morley, the FA’s first secretary and author of the first football rulebook, are now on the shortlist for a blue plaque. As time goes on, more outstanding players and managers will become eligible for consideration, and surely join them. In view of this – and, among other projects, the involvement of English Heritage in the Played in Britain publications and website – the charge that “those who administer our heritage simply don’t see football as part of it” seems about as close to the target as a Geoff Thomas chip.
Howard Spencer, English Heritage
Howard Pattison goes in search of football heritage and asks why more blue plaques aren’t awarded to players
In 1999 the writer Hunter Davies asked: “Why are there no blue plaques for footballers?” Over a decade on, they are still so rare that you begin to wonder if those who administer our heritage simply don’t see football as being part of it. Surely Bobby Moore is worthy of a blue plaque?
Ian Farrell reflects on the career of the extrovert and often underrated manager Malcolm Allison, who died on October 14, 2010
To those unfamiliar with the man, the tributes to Malcolm Allison must have made confusing reading. The grandiose quotes about his talents would leave them in no doubt that this was a giant of the British game, and yet sifting through the boasts and anecdotes for actual managerial achievements turns up surprisingly little.
Dear WSC
If Chic Charnley (Reviews, WSC 281) had had a longer fuse, it’s a racing certainty that he’d have played for Scotland and, in all likelihood, have drawn the attentions of bigger clubs in Scotland and down south. But, in gaining a model pro, we’d have lost a character who inspired love and loathing in equal part (depending on whether he was playing for your club). For a fan Chic was a uniquely interactive experience – if you got on his back he’d react and, as his disciplinary record shows, on 17 occasions that reaction led to a red card. As a fan you knew it. He’d be looking at the crowd trying to pick out his tormentors and on a good day you’d get a gesture. What better motivation could there be.At McDiarmid Park in Perth, on New Year’s Day 1997 Chico had a particularly fine blow-up. With the St Johnstone fans full of New Year spirit (spirits?) the abuse directed at Chic was ripe. With the match at 1-1 the red mist descended, and he thumped one of his team-mates. What followed was one of the high points of the last 20 years for Saints fans – a 7-2 victory over the bitterest local rivals.Equally, when playing for Partick Thistle against Motherwell in 1994 or 1995, I recall the crowd focusing even more relentlessly on the man. My memory says that again he got wound up, launched a kung-fu tackle at an opponent and earned an early bath. I’m less certain of this though and would welcome confirmation that I twice played my part in taking Chico off the pitch, definitely my most significant footballing achievement. At a later date I met Chic in a Glasgow pub. He was holding court to a rapt audience of Celtic fans whose devotion to him was greater than to many of the club’s long-term players. They knew he was one of them and they knew he’d come within a whisker of fulfilling his/their dream of playing in the hoops. Down-to-earth, frank about his errors and damn funny, it’s a shame there aren’t more like him. But if there were, there’d be chaos.
Alistair Smith, Forest Hill