Oxford United have shirked their responsibilty on reprimanding a player convicted of a racial offence, reports James Beard
A promising young footballer was recently convicted of a racial offence. The case involves a footballer at a Second Division club and, although it touches on issues which have been at the centre of public debate, has received scant media attention. It deserves more.
Refs, whines and videotape
Was that really the first week of the Premiership season, or was it an “ironic” imitation? All the familiar elements that we have come to take for granted from the shoutiest league in the world were present: refereeing controversy, managers up in arms, foreign players as victims and/or villains, and everything monitored in excruciating slow-motion by Sky.
Tuesday 1 George Weah signs for Man City, saying: “I think this club deserves to get into Europe and that is the aim.” Steve Coppell leaves Crystal Palace to be replaced by another former manager Alan Smith.
Wednesday 2 Intertoto defeats for Bradford, beaten 3-0 at home by St Petersburg, and Villa, who lose 2-1 to Celta Vigo. The Swiss referee, who dismisses two Villa players and one from the visitors, ends the match two minutes early and has to restart. “He was an embarrassment to UEFA,” snarls John Gregory. David Hodgson resigns as Darlington manager after chairman George Reynolds asks the players to take a pay cut.
The very English nature of our expectations creates the illusion of chronic failure
There is a peculiar tendency in Britain (maybe just in England) which insists that nothing but the best is good enough. The government wants the NHS to be “the best in the world”. Our millennium celebrations were supposed to be “the envy of the world”.
Football films tend to be as underachieving as Newcastle United. But Neil Wills has found a few that make the grade
Mention the term “football films” to an infinite number of monkeys and they will turn in unison from their typewriters and bellow, “Escape to Victory – aaaaargh!” They’d be right too, of course. Aside from the fact that it offered a truly surreal mix of Bobby Moore and Sylvester Stallone, it is not easy to forgive a film whose actors could not play football and whose footballers could not act. Pelé actually compounded the crime six years later by appearing in something called Hotshot, whose only virtue lay in successfully making Victory look art-house by comparison.