A return to terracing is on the agenda. Steve Menary explains what’s going on in Westminster
Could the government face an all-party rebellion over Sports Minister Richard Caborn’s refusal to countenance a return to standing at top-flight football matches? Seventeen years after the publication of the Taylor Report and after years when it was all but impossible to find a politician willing to propose a return to terracing, the mood at Westminster has changed.
Trevor Brooking is an unlikely evangelical but, as Barney Ronay reports, the mild-mannered one has come down off his fence with a vengeance in a bid to improve the basic football skills of children
“When it comes to skill levels, we are lagging behind the other major European countries… Unless this culture is changed, we will continue to slip behind.” So said Trevor Brooking last month, in one of his frequent and always deeply pessimistic dispatches from Soho Square. In case you haven’t noticed, this isn’t the same cheery old sit-on-the-fence Trevor you might have become used to from his “to be fair the ball took a bit of a bobble” appearances on Match of the Day. Two years in charge of the FA’s youth programme have taken their toll, transforming Brooking, the director of football development, into the game’s Cassandra, repeatedly mongering the imminent doom of our national sport.
Ever wondered how someone on £100,000 a week can have a “wrong” foot? Tom Green investigates the case for everything being all right with the left, as well as with the other one…
In an age of ProZone and FIFA coaching badges, one significant aspect of football technique appears to be overlooked: for some reason, right up to the very highest level, it seems acceptable to be one-footed.
There should be an air of panic around Elland Road, but it’s hard to locate. Have the past few years been so traumatic that no one can yet admit that a season ticket starting in August could be for League One? Al Needham investigates
Norris. That’s who I think of automatically when Leeds United’s glory years come to mind. Not Don Revie with his reams of dossiers, or sock-tags, or the Smiley badge, or seats on the pitch of the Parc des Princes. I think of horrible, devious, pill-pushing Norris, the ginger vermin of Slade prison who conned poor Blanco out of his treasure map in that episode of Porridge, only to find himself desperately scrabbling away in the dead of night in front of the imperious East Stand with the floodlights at full glare and the police advancing.
Ireland’s foreign minister has broached a tricky subject: if one team can represent the island in rugby, why not in football? Paul Doyle reports on the backlash, or lack of one, from some quarters
The mainly Nationalist fans of Cliftonville came up with a new chant a few years ago to mark the beginning of the Northern Irish peace process. Reworking the words of the popular old terrace ditty “You’re going to get your fucking heads kicked in”, they taunted the supporters of traditionally Unionist-backed teams such as Linfield and Glentoran with triumphant cries of “Cross-border bodies with executive powers”. The creation of such bodies was part of the Good Friday Agreement and a move that Nationalists hope will eventually lead to a united Ireland, which, of course, is a scenario Unionists dread.