Friday, 11 January 2008
Fish out of water
We do things our own way in Grimsby. We have our own cuisine, which steadfastly excludes garlic, spices and other "foreign muck". We have our own language, as any visitor will know who has been told "giz a pag – I'm playing togger down the Ploggers". We have our own system of government, in which nimbyocracy has been replaced by Fentyism.
And just as our communication becomes suddenly less effective when we go to another town and ask at the bar for a pint of diesel, so some of the finest footballers in Mariners shirts have failed spectacularly to fit in when they have moved on to other clubs.
Tomorrow's visitors to Blundell Park are Wrexham, who supplied one of Alan Buckley's best signings when Shaun Cunnington arrived from the Racecourse Ground in 1988. Cunnington formed a powerful midfield partnership with John Cockerill, and after five years with Town was prized away by Sunderland for £650,000 – where he managed 60-odd games in three seasons and was voted by readers of A Love Supreme fanzine into the club's "all-time misfits XI".
Much of Cunnington's career post-GTFC was spoiled by injury – but the same can't be said of another his replacement in Town's midfield, Paul Groves. Despite scoring five times in only 30 starts for West Brom, Groves was never accepted at the Hawthorns, and his signing seemed a key factor in Buckley's sacking a few months later.
Groves was a huge success back at BP, but struggled again after leaving for a second time. "Weird how the names Donovan and Groves can evoke wistful longing for better times in some fans," a York fan told me recently, "whereas they strike fear into the heart of me in recalling probably the worst City team I've seen."
Kevin Donovan had a hard time at Barnsley too, where fans rated him one of the club's worst ever signings. Speaking of players who did a turn at Oakwell, Peter Handyside looked a Scottish international in waiting while a Mariner; three years after leaving us he was playing – while still aged only 30 – for Northwich Victoria.
At this point I would mention Darren Barnard, who left the Mariners on a Bosman when we were relegated in 2004 because he didn't want to play in the fourth division – and ended up having to join Aldershot in the Conference. But he wasn't much cop when he played for us.
So if non-Grimbarians look at us blankly when we tell them we're taking our grufty cloves to the bagwash, it's clearly their fault for not speaking English properly. And if Everton think they were robbed blind when they paid us £1.75m for John Oster, well, it's not our fault if other teams don't know the right way to play football.
And just as our communication becomes suddenly less effective when we go to another town and ask at the bar for a pint of diesel, so some of the finest footballers in Mariners shirts have failed spectacularly to fit in when they have moved on to other clubs.
Tomorrow's visitors to Blundell Park are Wrexham, who supplied one of Alan Buckley's best signings when Shaun Cunnington arrived from the Racecourse Ground in 1988. Cunnington formed a powerful midfield partnership with John Cockerill, and after five years with Town was prized away by Sunderland for £650,000 – where he managed 60-odd games in three seasons and was voted by readers of A Love Supreme fanzine into the club's "all-time misfits XI".
Much of Cunnington's career post-GTFC was spoiled by injury – but the same can't be said of another his replacement in Town's midfield, Paul Groves. Despite scoring five times in only 30 starts for West Brom, Groves was never accepted at the Hawthorns, and his signing seemed a key factor in Buckley's sacking a few months later.
Groves was a huge success back at BP, but struggled again after leaving for a second time. "Weird how the names Donovan and Groves can evoke wistful longing for better times in some fans," a York fan told me recently, "whereas they strike fear into the heart of me in recalling probably the worst City team I've seen."
Kevin Donovan had a hard time at Barnsley too, where fans rated him one of the club's worst ever signings. Speaking of players who did a turn at Oakwell, Peter Handyside looked a Scottish international in waiting while a Mariner; three years after leaving us he was playing – while still aged only 30 – for Northwich Victoria.
At this point I would mention Darren Barnard, who left the Mariners on a Bosman when we were relegated in 2004 because he didn't want to play in the fourth division – and ended up having to join Aldershot in the Conference. But he wasn't much cop when he played for us.
So if non-Grimbarians look at us blankly when we tell them we're taking our grufty cloves to the bagwash, it's clearly their fault for not speaking English properly. And if Everton think they were robbed blind when they paid us £1.75m for John Oster, well, it's not our fault if other teams don't know the right way to play football.
Labels: aldershot, barnard, barnsley, buckley, cockerill, cunnington, donovan, everton, groves, handyside, northwich, oster, parochialism, smalltown, sunderland, transfers, west brom, wrexham
Friday, 12 October 2007
Back off the post
The postal workers are striking; and, as usual, the media are much less concerned with telling us why than with portraying them as selfish, heartless swine whose fight for 18-hour lunch breaks and retirement at 45 on full pay will just be all the sweeter if five-year-old Sophie here in the studio doesn't receive her birthday cards tomorrow.
But changes being imposed at the Post Office could mean the workers end up with no shift patterns at all and just sit at home by the phone every day, waiting to be called in whenever. I did this when I was a factory temp, and it was horrible. Town fans underwent almost the same thing last season, when GTFC and Chester rearranged a postponed fixture at just five days' notice, and even the lady who runs the jacket potato stand couldn't get a babysitter in time.
Occasionally footballers have considered a strike. The issue was simply that their union, the PFA, wanted more of the Premiership's TV money, although I do like the notion of Wayne Rooney and Ashley Cole calling each other "comrade" at England training and taking time out between running round cones to discuss overthrowing the machinery of capitalism and handing the means of production to the oppressed proletariat.
But when top-flight footballers threaten to withdraw their labour it's not that much of a threat, since the England players stage unofficial walkouts several times a year already. Whenever the national team plays a friendly half of them seem to be working on a go-slow protest and the other half have suspiciously phoned in sick.
It says something about the popularity of football, though, that players have considered industrial action as an effective means of bringing about change. You can't really imagine a governing body being brought to its knees and caving in to a list of players' demands in order to head off the chilling danger of an all-out golfers' strike.
Derby County players famously came close to strike action to have Brian Clough reinstated as their manager in 1973. A similar situation was unlikely when Alan Buckley was sacked by tonight's opponents Rochdale in 2003, as the man who has got Town promoted three times is regarded by some Dale fans as one of the worst managers they've had.
But while most managers depend chiefly on money as the key to building a successful team, the most important thing for Buckley is time. And at Rochdale – as well as Lincoln and West Brom, for that matter – he wasn't given enough of it.
Town have to make sure we don't make the same mistake again now. And for that we might need a few striking fans to return to Blundell Park.
But changes being imposed at the Post Office could mean the workers end up with no shift patterns at all and just sit at home by the phone every day, waiting to be called in whenever. I did this when I was a factory temp, and it was horrible. Town fans underwent almost the same thing last season, when GTFC and Chester rearranged a postponed fixture at just five days' notice, and even the lady who runs the jacket potato stand couldn't get a babysitter in time.
Occasionally footballers have considered a strike. The issue was simply that their union, the PFA, wanted more of the Premiership's TV money, although I do like the notion of Wayne Rooney and Ashley Cole calling each other "comrade" at England training and taking time out between running round cones to discuss overthrowing the machinery of capitalism and handing the means of production to the oppressed proletariat.
But when top-flight footballers threaten to withdraw their labour it's not that much of a threat, since the England players stage unofficial walkouts several times a year already. Whenever the national team plays a friendly half of them seem to be working on a go-slow protest and the other half have suspiciously phoned in sick.
It says something about the popularity of football, though, that players have considered industrial action as an effective means of bringing about change. You can't really imagine a governing body being brought to its knees and caving in to a list of players' demands in order to head off the chilling danger of an all-out golfers' strike.
Derby County players famously came close to strike action to have Brian Clough reinstated as their manager in 1973. A similar situation was unlikely when Alan Buckley was sacked by tonight's opponents Rochdale in 2003, as the man who has got Town promoted three times is regarded by some Dale fans as one of the worst managers they've had.
But while most managers depend chiefly on money as the key to building a successful team, the most important thing for Buckley is time. And at Rochdale – as well as Lincoln and West Brom, for that matter – he wasn't given enough of it.
Town have to make sure we don't make the same mistake again now. And for that we might need a few striking fans to return to Blundell Park.
Labels: buckley, chester, clough, derby, england, industrial action, lincoln, patience, post office, rochdale, striking, west brom
Friday, 28 September 2007
Coming home to roost
During Alan Buckley's spell with West Bromwich Albion in the 1990s I lived a couple of miles from the Hawthorns. My best mate Stu was a Baggies fan so I used to go along with him and see how Tony Rees, Paul Agnew and all the other Town exports were getting along. It was always interesting to compare notes with the Albion supporters, so when we got talking to one of them over post-match pints one Saturday, Stu decided to give him the context. "Pete's a Grimsby fan!" he grinned, indicating me.
The stranger turned to me with a face that would have split granite. He said – well, I'm not allowed to tell you exactly what he said, because my mum still reads this column, but (despite Town being placed comfortably above West Brom in the league at this time) the first two words were "you" and "sad", and the third rhymes with "trucker".
I was reminded of this lately by all the hoo-hah about the Mariners' proposed new stadium and the requirement to provide a new habitat for nearby bird life.
True, some local people seem to want the stadium to fail, just as they want the club to fail and everything else to fail (the reasons for this are too complex to explore here – which is a shame, because we could probably have had a lot of fun at their expense). But John Fenty, too, called the ruling "bizarre", and many people appear to be working on the assumption that birds are much less important than football.
This is more than a little short-sighted given that we've been watching football for about 150 years, while birds have been around for about 150 million.
But again, it's generally considered acceptable to like football, whereas ornithology is a hobby that tends to be thought of as, well, 'sad'. Why? No-one can really explain. I'm no birdspotter but as the years pass I grow worryingly fond of trains. And you may very well look down on trainspotters. But your scorn is nothing compared to the withering disdain that railway enthusiasts reserve for bus spotters.
The point is that nothing is more unfathomable to us than other people's taste – be it for birds, trains, Star Trek, Hereford United Football Club, or even Grimsby Town. And if we poke fun at the twitchers then we're no better than that sneering oaf I met in the pub in 1994. So let's all of us just do the right thing, and save our contempt and mockery for Chelsea.
And you know what? The people who only like things that it's OK to like, and aren't interested in anything 'sad', always turn out to be the most tedious truckers of all.
The stranger turned to me with a face that would have split granite. He said – well, I'm not allowed to tell you exactly what he said, because my mum still reads this column, but (despite Town being placed comfortably above West Brom in the league at this time) the first two words were "you" and "sad", and the third rhymes with "trucker".
I was reminded of this lately by all the hoo-hah about the Mariners' proposed new stadium and the requirement to provide a new habitat for nearby bird life.
True, some local people seem to want the stadium to fail, just as they want the club to fail and everything else to fail (the reasons for this are too complex to explore here – which is a shame, because we could probably have had a lot of fun at their expense). But John Fenty, too, called the ruling "bizarre", and many people appear to be working on the assumption that birds are much less important than football.
This is more than a little short-sighted given that we've been watching football for about 150 years, while birds have been around for about 150 million.
But again, it's generally considered acceptable to like football, whereas ornithology is a hobby that tends to be thought of as, well, 'sad'. Why? No-one can really explain. I'm no birdspotter but as the years pass I grow worryingly fond of trains. And you may very well look down on trainspotters. But your scorn is nothing compared to the withering disdain that railway enthusiasts reserve for bus spotters.
The point is that nothing is more unfathomable to us than other people's taste – be it for birds, trains, Star Trek, Hereford United Football Club, or even Grimsby Town. And if we poke fun at the twitchers then we're no better than that sneering oaf I met in the pub in 1994. So let's all of us just do the right thing, and save our contempt and mockery for Chelsea.
And you know what? The people who only like things that it's OK to like, and aren't interested in anything 'sad', always turn out to be the most tedious truckers of all.
Labels: birds, buckley, fentydome, hereford, personal taste, trains, west brom
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