Dear WSC
Oh blast, nearly made it, Huw Richards (Reviews, WSC 248). Six paragraphs of something approaching even-handedness towards Leeds United in your review of Gary Sprake’s biography but then, with the finishing line in sight, you can soar above the gravity of glib public opinion no more: “They were indeed dirty, cheating bastards.”It’s not that I’m a Leeds fan, nor that I unreservedly dispute these allegations. I was in my naive early teens when Revie’s men were in their pomp, so I could easily have been oblivious to the more devious methods of what was still one of the most effective teams I’ve ever seen. If they are to be criticised 30 years on, however, then can it at least be in a manner consistent with modern times? Consider one Roy Keane, for example. Occasional thug, habitual hothead, a cynical intimidator who went after what he wanted regardless of whether it did more harm than good to those around him. How many times have you witnessed a debate on the Irishman kick off with one of these themes, only to undergo a remarkable transformation as your local Keane apologist enters? By the time he has stressed Keane’s honesty, perfectionism and dedication, you’re being invited to believe that Sunderland’s gain was the Vatican’s loss. Whatever side of the argument you take, its structure certainly works to Keane’s advantage. Get the Mr Hyde stuff out of the way first, then finish the discussion on a high, firmly focused on Dr Jekyll. And if it’s good enough for Roy, it’s good enough for Leeds United. So next time your writers are let loose on the Elland Road archives, can we have a gentlemen’s agreement that they get the whole snidey, paranoid, Machiavellian thing out of the way early on and then close with two simple points: that Revie’s team were one of the best passing and possession sides this country has ever produced and that anyone who thinks you can merely cheat your way to two League titles, League and FA Cups, plus two European trophies from five finals, wants their head examining?
Jeffrey Prest, via email
He was a defensive liability in League One but seemingly comfortable at international level. Chris Lynham reflects on Kent’s very own World Cup star
When Neale Cooper was installed as boss of freshly relegated Gillingham in 2005, he decided to use his knowledge of the Scottish market to rebuild the flagging squad. In among the deranged goalkeepers and tanked-up forwards he acquired on the cheap was Trinidad & Tobago defender Brent Sancho, signed on a free from Dundee. With the Medway towns possibly being the only conurbation on earth that could make Dundee look like an oasis of bohemian chic, it was hardly a glamour move for Sancho. But for Gills fans it was an exciting acquisition – an established international who was intent on sealing his ticket to the World Cup in Germany.
Paul Joyce reports on Austrian clubs selling their indentities
If your average attendance is only 800, it might seem unwise to hint to supporters that there are better ways of spending their free time. Yet this is what happened in March, when Austrian second-division side SC Schwanenstadt changed their name to SCS bet-at-home.com. It could have been worse. “It was important for us to maintain the club’s identity,” enthused Klaus Gruber, marketing manager of the online betting company behind the rebranding. “That’s why we kept their initials at the front.”
TNS, the Welsh side famously named after a computing firm, have kept their initials but have a new name, a new ground – and a new country to play in. Owen Amos reports on the Oswestry border wars
Which two sides with grounds in England don’t play in an English league? There’s Berwick Rangers, of course. And now, joining them in the pub quiz, are The New Saints, of the Welsh Premier League. The Saints, formerly known as Total Network Solutions – them who played Liverpool in 2005 – moved in September from Llansantffraid, in Wales, to Oswestry, half a dozen miles away and over the border in Shropshire.
Football has more female fans than ever before but Simon Tindall wonders if they are to likely to take an interest in the women’s game
I’ll watch any kind of football from sons and dads on the beach, pub teams in the park to the Masters tournaments on Sky. But the words “women’s football” get me reaching for the remote as fast as if the continuity man had said Formula One or Open golf. The Women’s World Cup was an opportunity to reassess this position. The manner of the coverage on the BBC and in quality press obliges you to be interested, to view this as a “good thing” – like five fruit and veg a day – as opposed to a “bad thing” to be media‑ignored like speedway, greyhounds or most boxing.