Dear WSC
The Spurs “yids” thing (WSC 230) is indeed well and truly weird. This derogatory term emanated from Arsenal, a club with a proud tradition of support from the large north London Jewish community. As an eight- or nine-year-old, sitting high in the Highbury east stand with my uncle at my first ever game, even my pre-pubescent jewdar was sufficiently sensitive to know I was among my own. These days it’s a London thing. The term is seldom heard from northern fans, whereas one Chelsea fan website, presumably popular as it is on Google’s first page, proudly lists the lyrics to more than 25 (I stopped counting) anti-Semitic songs. In the mid-1970s, some Spurs fans created an incomprehensibly bizarre variant on terrace youth sub-culture by wearing skinhead uniform, skullcaps and Israeli flags. There’s one for all the sociologists out there. I sit in a different east stand now and for years optimistically clung to the notion that, in reclaiming the word, Spurs fans displayed rudimentary class consciousness and solidarity with discriminated groups in our society. This forlorn hope has been shattered in the face of vicious, sustained homophobic chanting, ostensibly related to Sol Campbell’s predicaments. The lip service paid by most clubs to kick out racism seems positively enlightened by comparison, and if we can’t learn anything from all this then the future’s bleak for football.
Alan Fisher, Tonbridge
If you’ve ever been enchanted or mystified by foreign chants, then Ian Plenderleith has found your dream site. Learn Polish raps and Russian ragtime numbers, but steer clear of PSG and Sampdoria
While football and music may attract the same kind of slightly sad, trivia-driven fan, these two cultural staples have always seemed ill at ease when they’ve overlapped. Yet the website Soccerclips.net , which has gathered more than 1,000 football songs from around the world, proves that while many attempts to fuse the two cultural staples have hopelessly failed, there are a ton of surprising gems that would probably make up a fat and eclectically pleasurable double compilation CD to stick on the car stereo for away trips.
No goals, no away fans, only one proper team – fears of violence made the recent match between PSG and Marseille remarkable, as Neil McCarthy reports
For their recent away match against Paris Saint-Germain, Olympique de Marseille travelled without supporters and fielded a B-team made up of reserves and youth-team players. The boring 0-0 draw was described as a winning hand for OM in a game of poker between the two clubs that has lasted for the past 15 years – they earned a point from PSG and spoilt a match broadcast on the TV station of PSG’s owners, Canal Plus. However, the media and the French League have played down the fact that the game was probably boycotted by OM simply because their fans are sick of risking their lives to go to the fixture, the league going so far as to dock both teams their point.
The death of Jimmy Johnstone has provoked the usual reminiscences about an outstanding individual but also a wider debate, as Dianne Millen explains
Celtic and Scotland legend Jimmy Johnstone, who scored more than a hundred goals for the Hoops and was capped 23 times, passed away on Monday March 13 aged 61. He had suffered from motor neurone disease for almost five years. Nicknamed “Jinky” by Celtic fans in recognition of his mercurial wing play, he was best known as a member of the “Lisbon Lions” team, the first British side to win the European Cup, and was also part of the side that captured nine consecutive Scottish League titles.
In our new book Soccer in a Football World, David Wangerin charts the troubled history of the game in the United States. In this extract he chronicles the short-lived euphoria that surrounded the NASL, the league that brought Pelé, Beckenbauer and Muhammad Ali to New Jersey, but still ultimately failed to ignite nationwide interest in ‘soccer’
Having convinced Pelé to come out of retirement for an unprecedented amount of money, Warner Brothers saw no reason why a similar offer wouldn’t entice Franz Beckenbauer. Initially, Beckenbauer insisted the earliest he would come was after the 1978 World Cup, but an offer of about $2.8 million over four years helped change his mind. He arrived in New York in May 1977. Few could see it, but the Cosmos and the league had begun to take leave of their senses. If Pelé’s arrival had boosted the NASL, Beckenbauer’s signalled one club’s intention to overwhelm it. Some were sceptical of his appeal. “He’s a great player, don’t get me wrong,” Giorgio Chinaglia brooded. “But is he going to help us with the crowds? No. He won’t draw in this country.”