Ori Lewis explains how newly promoted Hapoel Taibe blazed a trail in the Israeli first division
The new Israeli league soccer season is different to all the others in one significant respect. For the first time in the state’s history a club from the Arab sector is participating in the 16-team National League.
Phil Ball examines why the city of Pamplona in Northern Spain has long been a haven for expatriate British footballers
Since the construction of the new motorway, San Sebastian to Pamplona only takes 50 minutes by car now, over the rainy mountains and down into the meseta that opens out into southern Navarre. To the east of the city, on the old road up to the French Pyrenees, Club Atlético Osasuna are training in a downpour. You can tell they’re in the Second Division now – First Division sides regularly attract hundreds, sometimes thousands to training sessions. Here there are at most a dozen assorted kids and pensioners moping on the cold stone steps of the training ground.
Richard Darn looks at how Barnsley created an international squad
If I said that Barnsley FC had a centre-back who is not only bilingual but also a qualified doctor you’d probably scratch your head for a moment and then conclude he must be foreign. And you would be absolutely correct.
Mike Ticher looks at Australians playing professionally in the UK
It took a long time for Australian players to be taken seriously in England, despite the success of some early pioneers. Joe Marston left Sydney to play 185 games for Preston in the early 1950s, and won a loser’s medal in the 1954 Cup Final. It was another twenty years before Craig Johnston followed in his footsteps. Tony Dorigo completed the meagre roll-call of Australians who made it in what might be called the freelance period. Dorigo had to write personally to every club in the First Division for a trial before finally coming over to join Aston Villa in 1983.
Matt Nation explains why his name can be added to the list of people who have had life-changing experiences involving Norman Hunter and a cinder pitch
Norman Hunter was one of the few players who would have induced me to wade bleeding and naked through an open sewer for a chance to see him, such was the esteem in which I held him. Although in the twilight of his career when he arrived at Bristol City, he was still famous, still a cut above the rest and still capable of turning the flow of a game by scything down the opponents’ playmaker in full flight. If there was one man who definitively captured and held my interest in football, that man was Norman Hunter.