Friday, 8 February 2008
130 years of failure and inflatables
As we saw in this column last week, Town have a longer history than many other football clubs, but it is mostly a history of losing. In 130 years of existence the Mariners have never reached a major cup final or won the league championship. We've been relegated more times than every other professional club in England except Notts County, and they had a 16-year head start. But on the bright side, we are probably the only club whose fans sing the theme music from the Laurel and Hardy films when a group of police officers walk past.
True, this may come as scant consolation when we're losing 8-1 at Hartlepool, or when Blundell Park has prematurely emptied to the extent that when the final whistle blows there are more people on the pitch than fans left in the stands.
But before Town played at Chesterfield last month, when the Derbyshire constabulary entered the pub and looked on in sheer bafflement as a load of Grimbarians started going "deh-di-der, deh-di-der, deddle-er-der, deddle-er-der", it struck me what a fine thing it is that we have these little quirks to set us apart from all the other clubs.
So as Chesterfield arrive for the return fixture tomorrow, and probably beat us now that Jack Lester's back in the side, I've been thinking of some other things that make us unique.
Probably the best known of these is now history – that pub quiz standard about "the only team that never plays at home". Grimsby Town, but they play in Cleethorpes, see? Amazing. Then it got ruined in 2001 when Rushden & Diamonds joined the Football League, because they play in Irthlingborough. They were relegated back out of the league in 2006, but by that time Bolton Wanderers had built themselves a new ground about 12 miles outside Bolton, hence stuffing up a key aspect of Mariners uniqueness forever.
But GTFC still hold the record for the largest ever attendance at Old Trafford: 76,962 for the FA Cup semi-final against Wolves in 1939. Town have been holders of the League Group Cup for an amazing 26 years – as it has never been contested again since we won the trophy in 1982. And we're the only set of fans to have become famous for waving inflatable fish.
It's not all good stuff, though, as Town are also the only club to have sacked their most successful manager ever for drawing away at Portsmouth in the second game of the season. We all know what followed Alan Buckley's dismissal in 2000. So next time the police walk past and the Laurel and Hardy tune starts up, remember all the crimes of the Mariners' bigwigs – and how they always land us in another fine mess.
True, this may come as scant consolation when we're losing 8-1 at Hartlepool, or when Blundell Park has prematurely emptied to the extent that when the final whistle blows there are more people on the pitch than fans left in the stands.
But before Town played at Chesterfield last month, when the Derbyshire constabulary entered the pub and looked on in sheer bafflement as a load of Grimbarians started going "deh-di-der, deh-di-der, deddle-er-der, deddle-er-der", it struck me what a fine thing it is that we have these little quirks to set us apart from all the other clubs.
So as Chesterfield arrive for the return fixture tomorrow, and probably beat us now that Jack Lester's back in the side, I've been thinking of some other things that make us unique.
Probably the best known of these is now history – that pub quiz standard about "the only team that never plays at home". Grimsby Town, but they play in Cleethorpes, see? Amazing. Then it got ruined in 2001 when Rushden & Diamonds joined the Football League, because they play in Irthlingborough. They were relegated back out of the league in 2006, but by that time Bolton Wanderers had built themselves a new ground about 12 miles outside Bolton, hence stuffing up a key aspect of Mariners uniqueness forever.
But GTFC still hold the record for the largest ever attendance at Old Trafford: 76,962 for the FA Cup semi-final against Wolves in 1939. Town have been holders of the League Group Cup for an amazing 26 years – as it has never been contested again since we won the trophy in 1982. And we're the only set of fans to have become famous for waving inflatable fish.
It's not all good stuff, though, as Town are also the only club to have sacked their most successful manager ever for drawing away at Portsmouth in the second game of the season. We all know what followed Alan Buckley's dismissal in 2000. So next time the police walk past and the Laurel and Hardy tune starts up, remember all the crimes of the Mariners' bigwigs – and how they always land us in another fine mess.
Labels: bolton, buckley, chesterfield, distinctiveness, fa cup, identity, laurel and hardy, league group cup, losing, notts county, police, records, rushden, uniqueness, wolves
Friday, 30 November 2007
Booo, sort it Browns
If you're travelling by rail to tomorrow's FA Cup tie, the first thing you'll see of Huddersfield is a striking bronze statue of Harold Wilson, who was born in the town and served twice as prime minister in the 1960s and 70s. (The statue stands eight feet tall. Rumours once suggested that Russell Slade wanted it to play alongside Justin Whittle, Rob Jones and Ben Futcher in Town's defence.)
Wilson was the first media-friendly PM, cosying up to the Beatles and reeling off smile after smile after soundbite to distract the people from impending economic catastrophe. In this he bears a striking resemblance to Lennie Lawrence, the smooth-talking Town boss who told us the 2001 cup win at Liverpool was "the best result in the club's history" while his team was plunging down the league and recovering from a Chinese centre-half on £12,000 a week.
There are plenty more uncanny similarities between British prime ministers and managers of Grimsby Town. Sir Alec Douglas-Home was Wilson's foe in the 1964 general election. He may have been a doddery old Tory toff, while Nicky Law could have doubled for a terrifying nightclub doorman – but both were in the job for barely five minutes, both still managed to leave things in an even bigger mess than when they began, and people forget they both even existed until some tactless klutz reminds them. (Sorry about that.)
Between Wilson's two premierships came Edward Heath, whose spell in charge ended abruptly in 1974 as he was vanquished by striking mineworkers. Slade's term in office expired just as suddenly in Cardiff in 2006, although in this case it was his players' apparent withdrawal of labour that brought about his final defeat.
After Heath and Wilson came James Callaghan. Callaghan was a good man who took office at a bad time, overtaken by economic crisis and other events beyond his control, and lastly presided over an infamous 'winter of discontent'. It's all pretty much the same as Paul Groves really.
Callaghan lost the 1979 election to Thatcher, of course. Thatcher was driven by strong beliefs about how things should be done. She was notoriously ruthless and autocratic, and heeded no-one's opinion but her own. She stayed in charge for a long, long time. And she polarised opinion sharply between those who believed she was a great leader and those who insist to this day that she is the Antichrist. Is any of this ringing any bells?
Thatcher won three elections, too, and Buckley has won three promotions so far – but maybe there's a closer parallel for our current leader. Winston Churchill's victories out on the field of combat, after all, were all the more remarkable given the bitter opposition and in-fighting among his own supporters back home.
Wilson was the first media-friendly PM, cosying up to the Beatles and reeling off smile after smile after soundbite to distract the people from impending economic catastrophe. In this he bears a striking resemblance to Lennie Lawrence, the smooth-talking Town boss who told us the 2001 cup win at Liverpool was "the best result in the club's history" while his team was plunging down the league and recovering from a Chinese centre-half on £12,000 a week.
There are plenty more uncanny similarities between British prime ministers and managers of Grimsby Town. Sir Alec Douglas-Home was Wilson's foe in the 1964 general election. He may have been a doddery old Tory toff, while Nicky Law could have doubled for a terrifying nightclub doorman – but both were in the job for barely five minutes, both still managed to leave things in an even bigger mess than when they began, and people forget they both even existed until some tactless klutz reminds them. (Sorry about that.)
Between Wilson's two premierships came Edward Heath, whose spell in charge ended abruptly in 1974 as he was vanquished by striking mineworkers. Slade's term in office expired just as suddenly in Cardiff in 2006, although in this case it was his players' apparent withdrawal of labour that brought about his final defeat.
After Heath and Wilson came James Callaghan. Callaghan was a good man who took office at a bad time, overtaken by economic crisis and other events beyond his control, and lastly presided over an infamous 'winter of discontent'. It's all pretty much the same as Paul Groves really.
Callaghan lost the 1979 election to Thatcher, of course. Thatcher was driven by strong beliefs about how things should be done. She was notoriously ruthless and autocratic, and heeded no-one's opinion but her own. She stayed in charge for a long, long time. And she polarised opinion sharply between those who believed she was a great leader and those who insist to this day that she is the Antichrist. Is any of this ringing any bells?
Thatcher won three elections, too, and Buckley has won three promotions so far – but maybe there's a closer parallel for our current leader. Winston Churchill's victories out on the field of combat, after all, were all the more remarkable given the bitter opposition and in-fighting among his own supporters back home.
Labels: buckley, fa cup, groves, huddersfield, lawrence, politics, prime minister, slade
Friday, 9 November 2007
Having a 'mare
I had a dream the other night that Town were in the Conference. The Osmond stand was falling down, and the fans were making up new songs about all the turmoil. Everyone was having a laugh.
Tomorrow the FA Cup takes Town to Carlisle, who were bottom of the entire league for about eight years before they finally dropped into the Conference, with a chairman who said he'd been abducted by aliens. In case everyone wasn't already thinking he was bonkers, he went and appointed himself manager for a year, just to make sure.
I think Brunton Park is a fine ground. Maybe this is because I can't stand big, ostentatious stadiums that say "this club is going places". They're rubbish. Give me a ground that says "we don't know where this club is going, really – it's probably just staying here for the time being because we haven't got any money".
And there's nothing very wrong about staying in one place for a while – as I like to tell myself when it's almost noon and I haven't got out of bed yet.
Dozens of clubs have been brought to the brink of ruin by 'visionary' businessmen who have seen 'potential' and massively over-invested. Eventually they always discover that the reason nobody had tried it beforehand was not that they alone among all humanity had the true vision and the sheer guts to take their club to the top. It was actually because they were completely, spectacularly wrong.
And maybe Town's problem right now concerns our own expectations. Whatever might be wrong off the pitch, we're all still mightily irked that we're in the fourth division – despite having a fourth division stadium, a fourth division catchment area and fourth division support – and much of that disgruntlement is feeding back onto the pitch. We expect the players to give their all for 90 minutes – but what sort of signal does it send to them when Blundell Park has almost emptied after only 80 have been played?
Maybe we could learn from Carlisle, whose fans realised that the right thing to do to pick up their club from the very bottom was to pack into Brunton Park week after week and sing their bloody heads off.
And maybe, just maybe, we can learn to just support our club from one week to the next, without wishing we were somewhere else and beating ourselves up about where we are in the league, and where we think we ought to be.
After all, if we don't relocate to the Fentydome, the chairman may leave. We could end up in the Conference with a ground that's falling down. And the only way we'd get through that is just by making up new songs and having a laugh.
Tomorrow the FA Cup takes Town to Carlisle, who were bottom of the entire league for about eight years before they finally dropped into the Conference, with a chairman who said he'd been abducted by aliens. In case everyone wasn't already thinking he was bonkers, he went and appointed himself manager for a year, just to make sure.
I think Brunton Park is a fine ground. Maybe this is because I can't stand big, ostentatious stadiums that say "this club is going places". They're rubbish. Give me a ground that says "we don't know where this club is going, really – it's probably just staying here for the time being because we haven't got any money".
And there's nothing very wrong about staying in one place for a while – as I like to tell myself when it's almost noon and I haven't got out of bed yet.
Dozens of clubs have been brought to the brink of ruin by 'visionary' businessmen who have seen 'potential' and massively over-invested. Eventually they always discover that the reason nobody had tried it beforehand was not that they alone among all humanity had the true vision and the sheer guts to take their club to the top. It was actually because they were completely, spectacularly wrong.
And maybe Town's problem right now concerns our own expectations. Whatever might be wrong off the pitch, we're all still mightily irked that we're in the fourth division – despite having a fourth division stadium, a fourth division catchment area and fourth division support – and much of that disgruntlement is feeding back onto the pitch. We expect the players to give their all for 90 minutes – but what sort of signal does it send to them when Blundell Park has almost emptied after only 80 have been played?
Maybe we could learn from Carlisle, whose fans realised that the right thing to do to pick up their club from the very bottom was to pack into Brunton Park week after week and sing their bloody heads off.
And maybe, just maybe, we can learn to just support our club from one week to the next, without wishing we were somewhere else and beating ourselves up about where we are in the league, and where we think we ought to be.
After all, if we don't relocate to the Fentydome, the chairman may leave. We could end up in the Conference with a ground that's falling down. And the only way we'd get through that is just by making up new songs and having a laugh.
Labels: carlisle, chairmen, conference, expectations, fa cup, fentydome, new stadiums, support
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