Wednesday, 8 February 2023

ETFC are in Billericay, Dickie - and we're doing - very - well!

Billericay Town vs. Enfield Town

Saturday 4th February 2023: The Isthmian League Premier Division, 3 pm k-o
Attendance: 1,071

The Football Pharaoh is back! (again) - and NOT in need of Mandrax.

Back by popular demand - no, really! You might be surprised by just how many people have said they've missed my unreliable ad hoc reflections on The People's Game. I know I have been. For the record, and contrary to some unfounded rumours, The Football Pharaoh has actually attended plenty of games since the end of Covid lockdowns. But, alas, none of those exploits has excited me quite enough to bore you with my reflective outputs. Until now. However, I recently travelled into deepest, darkest Essex ("The horror! The horror!") to meet up with old college buddy (and local media personality) Bill, and his Essex-based group of like-minded, itinerant, footie fan friends.

The events of that day struck me as being well worth placing on record for posterity. So here we are! As Bill recently reminded me: it's 'now over 40 years since we first met in a (smoky, sweaty) college bar!' Surely, after all, it's the socialising AROUND football that we appreciate, just as much as we do the on-pitch action itself. And don't call me "Surely".

This Essex fan group call themselves "Yoko-Meshi" and are in their second full, post-Covid season of enjoying(?) monthly visits to obscure fixtures in the lower reaches of "my" football pyramid. Yoko-Meshi, incidentally, is apparently a Japanese phrase implying the notion of doing something familiar, but in a different way. It means literally "eating rice sideways". But doesn't everybody do that?

In their case, this means spending a day out at the footie in familiar, convivial company, but normally deliberately doing so somewhere previously unvisited and, therefore, unknown to the group. You've got to like that kind of thinking, innit? (sayonara!) Incidentally, a prize may be awarded for the first correct guess at the combined age of this group (of six) attending the game.

The Pharaoh (in blue-and-white Enfield Town scarf) with Bill (2nd from right). Others from the Yoko-Meshi crew, L to R: Mike Harwood, Steve Peacock, and Bob May - while Stevie B took the picture (thanks, Stevie!).

Topical Background: they took us to the cleaners - and other misdemeanours

Some people still believe financial fair play rules the English Premier League (EPL). While others still believe in Santa Claus. It seems you pays your money (in some cases, allegedly, unfeasible amounts of it!) and you takes your pick. See brief recent news and thoughts about this here: Manchester City Football Club charged with more than 100 breaches of financial rules. I also heard a related,  superb soundbite, shared by Phil on BBC Radio London's Sport Desk on Saturday morning. It adds helpful context to the hoary financial fairness problem for football's hard-of-thinking officials:

"Chelsea, this January, have spent more [on new players] than Brentford have ever spent since they were formed, in 1889
 - and that includes building a new stadium".

Financial Fair Play, you say? Ignoring the massive gulf in funding, Fulham's "David", incidentally, held Chelsea's "Goliath" to a 0-0 draw, away at Stamford Bridge, in Friday evening's televised EPL fixture. So Fulham have taken four points off them this season - and they are currently only the third best team in West London, according to the EPL table.

Of course, some people were driven to give up on all that Prem. nonsense a long time ago. And who can blame them for returning to watching "grass-roots" football at their more local clubs? You never know, it could even catch on. Personally, I have so far kept a foot in both these camps of The Beautiful Game.

Top-flight Fulham FC still figure highly for me. It's certainly been a privilege (and something of a pleasant surprise) to see them dishing out footballing lessons on a tight budget to a number of supposedly bigger clubs, this season. I'm lucky enough to get an occasional invitation to join long-time friend Graham ("Plumber to the Stars") to enjoy the delights of Craven Cottage. A truly classic ground on the banks of Old Father Thames I've been visiting for over 45 years, now. It currently features both the oldest AND the newest stands in English professional football. The Johnny Haynes/Stevenage Road stand [Grade II listed and dating from 1905, protected by English Heritage] and the New Riverside stand, partially opened in 2022.

But it's true that I do more frequently get along to see Enfield Town FC play, as regular readers will know only too well. The Towners play in the seventh tier of my pyramid. I've been following them since they moved home, to their current QEII Stadium in Donkey Lane, back in November 2011. Town were the country's first ever entirely fan-owned club, founded by the Enfield Supporters' Trust. They are described by Wiki's global list of fan-owned sports clubs as a "Protest Club", formed 'due to disaffection with the owners of Enfield F.C.'.

AFC Wimbledon and F. C. United of Manchester have, arguably with a higher profile, famously since followed similar paths in our pioneering footsteps (Good King Wenceslas-like - see: Fan-owned Sports Teams).

Unsurprisingly, this weekend's proposed visit to Billericay's New Lodge ground was just too big a lure (cat-nip, a siren call if you will) for the Yoko-Meshi - who thus found themselves mysteriously unable to stay away. Although, to be fair, I think the close proximity of The BILLERICAY BREWING CO. SHOP & MICROPUB (at 52 Chapel Street, CM12 9LS) may also have been a contributing factor. The alluring charms of which hostelry certainly helped make them almost late for kick-off. And, meanwhile, it was a new ground for me, too, anyway.

Local Background: Good evening, I'm from Essex, in case you couldn't tell

Billericay Town F.C. were recently the play-thing of a sugar-daddy: professional Essex Man, Glenn Tamplin. Although the ghost of his presence is now largely long-gone. Part of his remaining legacy is a ground whose capacity was raised to around 5,000 with 2,000 seated. His shorter-term, more ephemeral legacy was the arrival of a number of famous name, star pro players (incl.  Paul Konchesky, Jamie O'Hara and Jermaine Pennant). You may remember their names; rare sightings "at this level". As is a Non-League venue with permanent stands on all four sides of the pitch. Even Oxford United and Lincoln City have struggled to compete in this latter arena.

I am unqualified to offer a medical opinion on the historical state of Mr. Tamplin's mental health. But even I am intrigued by the causes of his on-off managerial relationship with the club he once owned. After appointing himself club manager, he sacked himself. But then re-hired himself just two days later. Before, finally, again resigning - and putting the club up for sale. Which is a very different kind of "yo-yo" track record from this sport's norm. Think of the on-off relationship Norwich City and - well - Fulham FC have with the EPL.

More recently, Billericay were relegated from the National League South, at the end of last season (2021–22). Perhaps unsurprisingly, this club with big ambitions still regularly boasts big crowds of support (the fourth largest in the Isthmian League Premier Division) and expects success on the pitch, too. On Saturday, New Lodge hosted 1,071 fans for the visit of Enfield Town F. C., whose own travelling support made up a good (loud and proud) proportion of that number. The visitors harbour their own visions of increased grandeur. They started the day in second place, but with a better goal difference than current table-toppers Bishops Stortford - and marginally better form than the latter. The only blot on Enfield's form landscape being a surprise 0-1 reverse against Kingstonian which, unfortunately, I also attended. Town hit the woodwork THREE times. It was NOT our day!

Things are close at the top. The League Title Jackpot is still in the handle, on a normal fruit machine, as I have heard cryptically said/sung.

And Saturday's Match, itself?

Since Enfield had hosted Billericay in the reverse fixture just 11 days earlier, this latest game may best be viewed through the context of a preamble describing aspects of that other recent and relevant fixture. That earlier one had resulted in a fairly critical win for the hosts. Had the Essex visitors overcome Enfield, they would have leap-frogged us in the table, on the day.

In a close game, 'Ricay had created chances but looked rather "blunt", up front. Their defenders seemed determinedly more focused on bossing the game physically, rather than the all-important score-line - and an actual winning result. The visiting GK had to make the more important saves AND The Towners missed a late "sitter". Despite all of which, Enfield ran out fairly comfortable 2-0 winners.

Town were not going into Saturday's follow-up return fixture as table-toppers though, as might have been the case. Bishops Stortford having won their Tuesday night game-in-hand, away at Harringey, to rise above Enfield. But a good atmosphere was still expected - and delivered - in the fiery cauldron of The New Lodge. And any potential complacency had been left well and truly at home.

Apart from the incremental gulf in the final score-line, the pattern of this return fixture was much the same as the first. A high degree of physicality, late "hits" and niggle led to two early enforced substitutions and some head clashes, adding plenty of stoppage time. Again there was a blunt 'Ricay attack, a greater goal threat offered by The Towners and (mostly) an increasing control of the game by the visitors.
Defender Lewis Knight bears the scars of battle. But at least he lasted the whole game.
Juevan Spencer was less lucky, carried off the field early with what looked like a nasty knee injury.

That was largely true, except for the early minutes of the second half - perhaps due to a bit of  "re-education" in the 'Ricay dressing room, or what is sometimes termed a hair-dryer moment. If true, perhaps a seasoned-up hyena could not have been more obscener than the Home side's manager, Danny Brown. But, luckily for Enfield, any impact he/this may have had did not last long.

Wyllie and Coker routinely tormented the home defence. The former hit the woodwork as early as the 12th minute and had a good effort saved in the 72nd, while the latter scored the game's opener, after 28 mins. A sharp finish to despatch a slightly lucky ricochet off the shin of a defender. But, then again, they say you make your own luck!

Enfield's players and fans celebrate the opener, as Andre Coker roars his delight at scoring it. Photo credits to "Wee" Stevie Ball. Great work!
And apologies that I made him use my sub-standard phone camera to take the "Yoko-Meshi" group shot: weestevieb.com / wee_sportie.

Cunnington, a former 'Ricay player, gamely acted the role of traditional target man. And he was a bit unlucky to put his best effort on goal over the top, after 25 minutes, set slightly off his stride by the attentions of Quick, from behind. After the early second-half pressure from the hosts I've already mentioned, Chez Isaac finished with aplomb, just before the hour mark. That followed a long throw routine which fell kindly to him, about 15 yards out. Finally settling any nerves. For the visiting fans, if not for the players.

Town's deep squad increasingly offers threat off the bench. "Finishers" used on Saturday included Jake Cass and Lewis Taaffe, who both scored late on to put some extra gloss on Enfield's final winning score-line. The former headed in a rebound off the crossbar, following a powerful Joseph Payne free-kick. While the latter trickled in a bobbler, wrong-footing the 'Keeper - but hey, they all count.

For the 'Ricay, Alfie Cerulli fluffed his chance for what surely would have, should have, could have been only a consolation goal, with just minutes (and blushes) to spare. Final score: Billericay Town 0 - Enfield Town 4.

The video highlights at this link are well worth 6 minutes of your life. They're action-packed and give a good sense of the standard of football being enjoyed by the Yoko-Meshi "at this level" - and by other punters willing to part with twelve of your English pounds for the privilege.

As well as being an entirely fan-owned club, Enfield Town is also a Community-focused one. Saturday's next home game, against Wingate & Finchley, has been designated "PUBLIC SERVICE DAY". There will be free entry to the ground for NHS/Care, Prison Service, Police, Fire Brigade, Armed Forces, Utilities, Postal Service, Transport, Local Authority, Teachers, etc. That's right, basically the people who are currently continuing to help / make this country run, in the absence of a functioning government. Even whilst many of them are also simultaneously being forced into taking strike action.

And what else? 

Well, after a 0-1 reverse to current table-toppers Bishops Stortford on December 3rd (an early Xmas present of 3 points - or 6?) Enfield still have the chance to exact revenge in the return fixture on 15th April. That could yet become a title decider. And the Yoko-Meshi have already set it as a target date for another reunion. Even as I was typing up this post, 16th-placed Bognor Regis Town were busy handing out a Tuesday night defeat to Bishops Stortford, courtesy of a late brace from Nathan Odokonyero (72' and 90'). Stortford fans will, surely, be echoing the alleged sentiments of King George V about the seaside town. 

Still in with a shout at automatic promotion, you say? A game in hand and only 2 points adrift, you say? Come On, You Towners!⚽

Public notice: no bragging bricklayers were hurt in the making of this post.

#ETFC

References:
'Heart of Darkness' (1899) - Joseph Conrad
'Billericay Dickie' (1977) - Ian Dury

Saturday, 3 July 2021

It's Coming Home (Tonight) - but for how long?

“He's back! He's back!... Everybody get up and run!” - Joseph Heller, 'Catch-22'

Yes, The Fabulous Football Pharaoh is back in town. After far too many months away induced by politicised mismanagement of the Covid crisis,  multiple UK lockdowns, absent football crowds and general apathy, he has arisen phoenix-like from his writerly tomb again. His interest in English Football remains unabated. But the "Pyramid" he is most interested in today is that offered by FIFA's rankings of UEFA nations. Are England really the 4th best team in the world? Are they even among the four best teams in Europe? We may soon have a clearer view of the answers to those questions. One thing that is reassuringly unchanged here is the rambling nature of The Pharaoh's reflections on The Beautiful Game.

The Pharaoh is always interested in the views of others, though, too. He commands, on pain of death, that you share them in the comments box below. Long or short, all opinions with positive intent are welcomed!

As a friend observed: British sports "journalism" at its very best. I genuinely thought the yellow text read "our pathetic readers". A Freudian slip.

Is "IT"​ coming home, then?

When you're talking about sport, nothing is for certain. That's one reason why so many people enjoy the thrill of watching it, or of participating. One thing I'm fairly sure about, however, is that Gareth Southgate is winning the persuasive communication battle: for our hearts and minds - and those of his players. He is Liked, Trusted and makes a Logical case, in broadly equal measure. It's a simple but powerful persuasive combination, delivered simply and with clarity. Southgate himself acknowledges this focus: "Our messaging's been really clear".

I got the following football query via WhatsApp after Tuesday's England win, I had a view and shared it. I thought I'd share it with all my loyal subjects, too. Enjoy!

"What did you think of it? Germany just never seemed to turn up."

I've been relatively comfortable with Southgate's approach to the whole tournament so far [and I hear he cares deeply about my endorsement of his tactics and strategy]. I seem to have been in a minority of realists who. remember that tournament football is different. It's an over-used TV pundit cliché, I know, but true nevertheless. I'd have been happier to see more player rotation in the early games, TBH. But that's a minor quibble and they did all turn out to be quite tight games, after all. So I'll let that pass. He gets enough knee-jerk challenges and criticisms from the armchair and (overpaid?) professional pundits without me adding to the noise level.

Are the England side as entertaining as "we" could be? No. Not so far in this tournament. But are we nullifying and deadening dangerous teams, which many others are failing to do? Absolutely! With the arguable exception of Scotland - who, of course, turned out to be not quite dangerous enough against anybody else and have gone home.

People generally seemed unimpressed with England's performances and results prior to Tuesday's last 16 win. I mean people OTHER than the likes of Graeme Souness and Roy Keane, from whom one expects nothing less sour - and dour.

But I struggle to understand that negative perspective from others and I feel it must be down to a failure to understand the true or full context of those performances. The Big Picture. We've beaten Croatia (who were unlucky not to get more against Spain in the last 16, on the tournament's Manic Monday), the Czech Republic (quarter-finalists and looking good). And we drew in the rain, away in our home fixture at Wembley, against a Scotland side seemingly pumped up on endless re-runs of Mel Gibson's woad-painted, wandering-accented warrior chief.

Now we've comprehensively beaten Germany, who had already pummelled Portugal 4 - 2. Albeit they did so, admittedly, with the help of a couple of own-goals. They had qualified as one of the highest-scoring sides in the group stage before we despatched them. And had only narrowly lost their first group stage game, against the pre-tournament favourites and reigning World Champions.


 
Then and now: TfL celebrations in 2018 and 2021

None of our Euro 2020 opponents have managed to score a goal against us yet, although they've all had too many chances, TBH. That's despite the fact that many would have said, before the tournament, our defence  was our likely weak spot. And those wins (and draw) have been achieved without a single England goal from a set-piece. Yet!

Meanwhile, the highest scoring side in the Group stage (Holland) have gone home, licking their wounds [FYI, they were my Dark Horse tip for the final, until Matthijs de Ligt's grievous and inexplicable error - and his subsequent red card dismissal].

The Dutch have long been strong  proponents of the sport of handball.

Early exits also awaited the World Champions (France), their fellow World Cup finalists (Croatia) and the reigning European Champions (Portugal). You see! Sport really is unpredictable. So one could argue that England are already exceeding the achievements of some stellar international competitors. Although you'd hardly know it, from people's largely negative reactions and challenging critiques.

If Germany "just never seemed to turn up" against England (a debatable claim, IMHO) then maybe, to some extent, it's because they weren't allowed to. Only three nations scored more points than England in the group stage, remember. Yet sack-cloth and ashes were the preferred fashion option in TV studios and sports news rooms (and, consequently, around socially-distanced water-coolers) up and down the country, after England's efficient draw with Scotland. It seemed to be widely perceived as not only an unattractive peformance but almost equivalent to a defeat. Whereas, in fact, it was effectively a tense local derby. And, nevertheless, that hard-earned result gained one of England's seven accumulated points, out of a possible nine. Contributing to a Group Win and the luxury of keeping Wembley as our home venue for the face-off with Germany.

Meanwhile, three of the sides who got through the first round stage merely as the best 3rd-placed qualifiers in their groups, have now made it into the final eight. That should tell us a lot about the unpredictable nature of this and other tournament football and the weight of public expectations on some fancied teams. It should also remind us about the often surprising nature of sporting outcomes. One reason why we should all remain "Gambling Aware" at all times, too! Tournament football is, notoriously, a Long Game. A marathon, not a sprint.

Personally, I'm feeling quietly confident about the next round. Just as I was ahead of Tuesday's game. No, honestly! I genuinely fancied us to win.

Attrition! OK, so Southgate's game is to nullify first and attack second. And that comes with its own risks and won't win many new fans, maybe. But he is thinking about his opponents and setting up his stall for each match specifically to deal with them. So far very successfully. He has learned the lessons of 2018, it seems. And of many other years of failure!

The proof of the pudding is mostly in the winning, of course. The manager himself acknowledges he expects to be judged entirely on his results, regardless of what anybody says pre-match about his "surprising" team selections: "If we don't win, I'm dead". Southgate's squad had just better keep on delivering for him, if they want to keep him alive, in return for his continued confidence in them.

We scored as many goals yesterday against the Germans as we had against the previous three opposing sides, highlighting another previous / potential weakness. Southgate's been patient with, and loyal to, some so-called under-performing players. Despite his tournament goals, and all the media hype and hysterics, I'd still put Sterling in that category. Although he's getting back towards his best when going forwards, he's still exhibiting too many errors going backwards - and nearly gifted Germany their equaliser, of course. That hasn't been his only howler, either.

Kane is in that same bracket, although he has continued to occupy defenders tirelessly and made space for others (especially Sterling) to exploit. Fingers crossed Tuesday's second goal will now also relax Kane into sharper performances and more goals. Bad news for the unlucky Calvert-Lewin, perhaps.

Phillips has been a revelation, and looks pretty much undroppable, despite Tuesday's yellow card (which, along with other considerations, probably helps to keep Mount on the bench). Phillips was far more solid, despite roaming forwards more, than Rice - who started nervously. The latter stuck with it though and ran himself into the ground, into cramp, and out of the game, with just a few minutes remaining.

Although I'm not his biggest fan, Pickford looks assured. Walker has surpassed my expectations which, admittedly, were pretty low. His pace has turned out to be important. For instance his critical 50 yard, high-speed chase back to put pressure on Muller at the all-important moment for his all-important miss (which had looked to me like a hopeless task) gets a special mention. Despite it getting very little mention elsewhere. But he offered more than just pace, even occasionally interchanging with Trippier, to give the German wing-backs additional headaches and extra thinking to do. Stones also did his job well, if unspectacularly. The return of Maguire has transformed the way the back unit works. In a good way! The 3 centre-backs yesterday were immense and formed the bedrock of our success. To be even more secure, though, they will need to learn how to enforce a higher defensive line on their team-mates in the latter stages of a match they are trying to see out.

Only one England defender combined presence and pace
to bust a gut and apply timely pressure.

Oh yes, and that formation change, to 3-4-3. It was described by some pre-match as a risk, having been out of the England mix for some time. But flexibility is a key to success, and Southgate trusts his squad to deliver on his chosen tactics. I thought it could turn out to be a sensible switch (matching the German's own formation) just so long as our wing-backs stayed focused on nullifying theirs. [For those specifically interested in a deeper dive into the evolution of formation selections and tactics, I recommend 'Inverting the Pyramid' (2014) by Jonathan Wilson.]

And for most of the match, our wing-backs weren't really England's star turn, but they weren't supposed to be. What they did do for most of the first 75 minutes was to execute Southgate's game plan by focusing on the job that was being asked of them. Keeping their opposite numbers comparatively quiet and denying much of the likely German supply line. In the second half, Shaw (TBH, my error, I probably would have favoured Chilwell, if the latter hadn't just emerged from isolation) did far more than just that. Was there something in the half-time drinks or manager's team talk, perhaps? Shaw eventually provided the proof of Southgate's slow-cooked pudding. With an assist for our first goal followed up with winning, carrying and threading the ball to start the counter-attack that resulted in England's second. Harry Kane's important first. There's still more to come on the right from the quieter Trippier, I hope.

Southgate's been using some of his more offensive players (esp. Grealish) selectively, and mostly off the bench. To the vociferous disgust of many. But I'm happy with that. I think Grealish is best when fresh and as a change option against tired opposition, anyway. Saka got selected on merit and then got kicked around the pitch by Rüdiger, without much protection from the ref. But he put up with it gamely and just carried on running. He probably also did enough to stay in the starting line-up.

Two Harry's: Guess who's at the bottom of that little lot.

Ukraine are, undoubtedly, one of the two weakest teams still left in the contest's last eight. They only narrowly edged through the last 16 against ten stubborn Swedes and will, surely, harbour hopes of doing the same against eleven "Turnips". They have the capability to match and frustrate us for long periods - and possibly to beat us too. Again, nothing is assured, in sport. But Ukraine SHOULDN'T win, so long as everybody switches on from the start in The Eternal City on Saturday night. We must approach them with care and respect. But that is Southgate's trademark, as they too will surely realise. They will press hard and carry some threat, but I expect us to nullify that threat en route to a win. To be followed by a semi-final against the Czechs (such a repeat fixture would be officially "interesting" - and close!) or Eriksen-less Denmark... surely everybody's second team at this tournament, out of sympathy / solidarity.

The extra incentive for our boys will be the sizeable carrot of a potential home Wembley final. Against Spain or Belgium? Or Italy? Surely NOT Switzerland, though! One things' for sure: we're lucky to be in OUR side of the draw, and NOT theirs.

Is IT coming home, then, Des? Truly, it's impossible to tell. I can only hope so. We'll find out soon enough, though. IT has often knocked on the door only to then run away and hide again. But I quite fancy us this time, for all our many limitations. NOT reaching the final would probably be a disappointment, now. And could still happen, even though we haven't conceded a goal since March. That's six consecutive clean sheets since the last goal against us. Which is something ALL our opponents will be well aware of and worrying about. No matter how different some teams and pundits think and/or wish that statistic woulda, coulda, shoulda been by now. Some might say that our clean sheets have been lucky ones. But it's often said that you make your own luck. And that it can involve a lot of practice and a lot of hard work. And effective, persuasive communication, of course, along the way.

We may think we still have problems. But the England team is visibly growing in confidence. It's WE who are our opponents' problem, too, don't forget. And an increasingly thorny one, at that. The journey away to Rome will be England's first AND last one. I'll be hoping that's not because it's also our last fixture in the tournament. Almost inexplicably, we have now become the (UK) bookies' favourites to lift the trophy, though. Which adds an extra, subtle layer of pressure onto the shoulders of all the players and staff. Just one more chattering monkey to deal with. Tournament football, eh?! As the manager himself says: "in sport, your next challenge is always just around the corner". It never ends.

I've already shared (above) a social media meme posted by TfL staff informally renaming one station "Kane-ary Wharf". That may be premature. Or it may yet prove insufficient. We might end up needing to look for further painful station pun options, for the rest of the squad. In itself, not an easy task. Only the next few days will reveal which is the case.

🎵 I still see that tackle by Moore, And when Lineker scored.
Bobby belting the ball, And No-bby Dan-cing... 🎵

"Three Lions": Johnny Haynes, of Fulham and England (a still from THAT video).

#Communication #ItsComingHome

.

Wednesday, 15 May 2019

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times ...


... it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness". It HAD BEEN the autumn of hope ... but now it was the spring of despair.

The English Premier League

Sunday 12th May, 2019, 3:00 pm kick-off - Craven Cottage
Fulham vs. Newcastle United
Referee: Kevin Friend
Attendance: 24,979

In fact, it had probably been "the age of (Norman) Wisdom", for those old enough to remember one of Marylebone's finest physical comedians. What better way to end the English Premier League season than in style, down on the river in The Chairman's Club, with a full-house attendance at Craven Cottage, watching some physical comedy of our own? In hindsight, watching paint or cement drying might have been more entertaining, but that's hardly the point ... is it? Many sincere thanks go to old buddies John Pritchard and Graham ("Plumber to the Stars") Morrissey, for their generous contribution towards getting two generations of the Harney family off the streets, at least for an afternoon. Great to sit near the half-way line with my (not much) older brother, Kevin. It was he, after all, who had started me on my roller-coaster Fulham ride, nearly 43 years ago. And now I would be watching them be formally relegated ... yet again.
Child's play? It's back to nursery school for Fulham's suck-a-thumb stars.

"IF AT FIRST YOU DON'T SUCCEED, TRY, TRY AGAIN". It's a phrase most of us probably first heard at school. And when it comes to managerial appointments, it's advice that's been keenly adopted by Fulham FC's board, this year. First utterance of the phrase is ascribed to Robert the Bruce, king of Scotland, supposedly inspired by the dogged determination of a spider, constantly rebuilding its web, in the Bruce's cave hide-out. He is meant to have used this catchy, home-spun spider analogy to motivate his army, ahead of their narrow victory over the English at Bannockburn, in 1314. Just like Mel Gibson's famous Scottish Referendum documentary, "Braveheart", the ascription of this phrase to The Bruce is, no doubt, 100% sound and historically accurate.

Its first written usage, however, has been more authoritatively traced to the 'Teacher's Manual', written by American educator Thomas H. Palmer - and to the novel for younger readers 'The Children of the New Forest', by Frederick Maryat (the latter lived and was schooled in Enfield for a while, y'know - as was John Keats). An updated version of its central idea was later popularised by US military leader Colin Powell: "There are no secrets to success. It is the result of preparation, hard work and learning from failure." ("The Leadership Secrets of Colin Powell", 2003 by Oren Harari - although I'm not sure just how much of a Leadership "Secret" that little gem was, tbh).

Why should we care about all this? Because if the central principle of these adages is true, then Fulham FC should emerge back up through the EPL's trapdoor with no trouble at all, in very short order, even stronger than ever ... given the vast amount of failure they have delivered recently - and given all of the learnings that surely must, therefore, have been gained by one and all. An associated adage (this one ascribed to Quentin Crisp, c.1968) is, however, that "If at first you don’t succeed, failure may be your style." Fulham fans the world over (both of them) will surely be hoping that this is NOT the case.

How can one reflect meaningfully on such an unrewarding season as Fulham have just experienced? You certainly have no time to lick your self-inflicted wounds. In the crazy, money-go-round world of contemporary professional football, you must rebuild and be ready for pre-season training in just a few short weeks' time. You could also do worse than simply following the advice of  Jerome Kern and Dorothy Fields, from 1936:

"Will you remember the famous men
Who had to fall to rise again?
So take a deep breath,
Pick yourself up,
Dust yourself off,
Start all over again.
I'll get some self assurance
If your endurance is great.
I'll learn by easy stages,
If you're courageous..."

We will all learn the truth - and soon enough! Meanwhile, in this article The Telegraph gave some thought and time recently to the status and ambitions of the EPL's purgatorial/'yo-yo' clubs. "... there are Fulham fans who may feel some degree of relief that they have been put out of their misery. The Cottagers were the great entertainers of last season’s Championship, but there is no room for fun at the bottom end of the PL".

"Hello, my name's Calum": a group of complete strangers introduce themselves to each other, ahead of the day's on-pitch action.

There's a pet theory for pretty much every single person who cares to offer an opinion on their club's current malaise, and why should I prove any different? I blame poor boardroom management. A lot of the Premier League 'windfall' money was spent enthusiastically, expensively assembling a new squad of untested players without first giving established players a meaningful chance at proving their own capabilities in the top flight. Given that they'd been good enough to gain promotion, frankly, how much worse could those twelve good men and true have fared than their replacements? Anyone reviewing the team sheet below against the list of those on show in the Wembley play-off final, will find only 3 starters in common, with a 4th from that earlier sunny day warming the subs bench (US international and Bolton Wanderers escapee, Tim Ream) - and signally failing to get off it.
What seems most likely to succeed next term, IMHO, is a re-familiarisation with the previous season's three-man midfield. A triumvirate which took the club on an unexpected (and, indeed, unprecedented) club-record 23-game unbeaten run, in the second tier. They say that what's needed to escape the Championship, is players with Championship experience. So, presumably, we need look no further, then. The guys who were in large part responsible for that success (along with January loan signing Mitrovic and the teenaged Sessegnon) were Tom Cairney, Kevin McDonald and Stefan Johansen. Not only are all three still 'on the books' at the club, but Captain Cairney has just penned a 5-year extension to his contract. He is the man around whom next season's Championship title challenge will surely be built - by newly appointed permanent Head Coach, Scott Parker.

To be fair to the many nay-sayers, Cairney has been only a shadow of his former self, this season, in part through injury. While we've seen precious little of the other two. Edged out of the side by highly-paid and widely-trumpeted, supposed "marquee" signings, who, broadly speaking, simply failed to 'turn up'. Surplus to requirements, Johansen has been out on loan at West Brom since January, after making just 12 league appearances for the whites. In a case of that bizarre, mirror-imaging which football so often provides, Johansen has recently been in the midst of his loan club's efforts to make it back into the Premier League. Their route back ended after extra-time and penalties, in their play-off game second leg against Aston Villa. That's the same opponent whom Johansen helped Fulham to edge past in last season's Championship Wembley play-off final, remember. This year, success for him would have meant painfully(?) replacing his 'parent' club in the top flight. Although it seems, ultimately, his heart wasn't quite in that particular fight. Meanwhile, Kevin McDonald has managed only a cameo role of 13 appearances - with no option for a loan spell of his own. All three are internationals, with Premier League AND Championship experience and should start next season's challenge relatively 'fresh'. None of them was too much fancied, after the influx of what SHOULD have been £100mn plus of top-class, pure pedigree, footballing talent. Hmmmmmm ...

In its review of the EPL year (tellingly entitled "flops of the season") The Guardian called out one of those over-priced Cottage summer signings, Jean-Michael Seri, for particular opprobrium: "Fulham must feel short-changed".
Fulham players prepare to sign off in style from the Premier League, with a final day goal-fest. That aim probably didn't work out quite as they'd intended. They're shown practising their devastating scoring techniques in front of the famous "Johnny Haynes" Stevenage Road stand and The Cottage, in end-of-season sunshine. There was even a touch of floodlight 'porn', for those who like such things. That was about as good as it got, for non-Geordies.
Well let's at last get on with talk about this final (for the next 15 months, at least) EPL match-day, shall we? After all the usual, choreographed, pre-match paraphernalia, hype and nonsense - the portentous music, flag-waving, loud team selection announcements, etc. - at "Fortress Fulham", our entire season was very quickly summarised and paraphrased in the first meaningful attack of this game, against what was a fairly ordinary-looking "Toon" side, and by its first shot on target. My own season of following The Cottagers was summed up by my developing a massive blister on my left foot, resulting from the long walk along the river, from Hammersmith tube station. It was surely a sign from the gods, or the Bow Bells: "Turn again, Harn-ington! ..."

As the BBC's "Match of the Day" commentator, Mark Scott, rightly observed: "... No-one's picking up Jonjo Shelvey." Initially invisible to all of the men in white, apparently, Mawson did pick him up eventually. He covered all of 12 yards to do so, but only AFTER the Newcastle man had received the ball deep, unmarked at a corner, taken a controlling touch, advanced into the apex of Fulham's penalty area and unleashed a dipping, driven volley - over and wide of the flailing home 'keeper, Rico. Typically "Fulham-ish", it was the first goal Shelvey had scored in over a year - but it was far from being the first one Fulham had conceded in that time. It was further proof, if any were still needed, that the personnel in this Fulham side and effective zonal marking do NOT mix well. I hope Scotty was taking copious notes.
Scott Parker (bottom right) belatedly tries to squeeze out of frame, as Fulham fruitlessly take the early initiative, against their guests.

Summer signing Rico was at fault for the second goal (it followed just 90 seconds later) if not entirely for the first. He spilled the rebound from a routine low save onto a veritable plate and into the path of Pérez, for a far easier finish than the first. The score was 0-2 within the first 12 minutes, and there was to be no way back for Fulham, or their embattled (and embittered?) fans. 
"Local Hero" ... no, the one on the left.

You can read a match report here. After all, there's little point in my re-writing all the rest of the gory details. What I will tell you, though, is that I mis-spent the half-time break talking bubble perms, club goal-scoring records and some of the defects of these current manifestations of Fulham Football Club and its playing squad, with a former man-in-white who's 'in the know' - Gordon "Ivor" Davies (see above and below). Not only did Gordon insist on having his photo taken with his new favourite Walking Footballer, he even made a point of signing his page in my programme (see below). How we could have done with a few of his 159 league and cup club goals in this match. FIVE of them, to be precise. Final score: Fulham 0 - 4 Newcastle United ... ouch - but at least the early summer sun was shining down gloriously on London's oldest professional football club!

With "very best wishes" from me to you, too; even if it has mostly tended to seem like "the worst of times", recently, in SW6. Your Fabulous Football Pharaoh is finally signing off until next season. Or, perhaps, at least until I can summon the energy to bring you some close-season thoughts on other recent games my regal, omnipotent and immortal entourage has attended, at Craven Cottage and Donkey Lane.

"Till I die" might be a bit extreme, but this 2-minute video of Fulham Folklore, featuring another fairly famous Welshman (Keith Allen) should be worth a look, for true fans of The Beautiful Game. ⚽

Sunday, 24 March 2019

Fifty-Three Years of Hurt ... and Counting!

THE EUROPEAN CHAMPIONSHIPS

22 March 2019
Qualifying Group A
England versus Czech Republic 19:45
Attendance: 82,575

AND

26 June 1996
Second Semi-final
Germany vs England 19:30
Attendance: 75,862

In the absence of English Premier League football and any more humiliating defeats for Fulham FC this week (don't worry, 'normal service' may well be resumed next weekend) all hungry football eyes turned elsewhere. Did you spot any parallels between the two games named above? Grab a cuppa and Czech (see what I did there?) out whether they're the same ones I noticed ...

As England crushed the Czech Republic 5-0 in a routine Euro qualifier, Sterling turned on the style by scoring a hat-trick. Fulham defenders, please take note. By the standard of most England matches, this one was quite enjoyable to watch. One defining moment from the game, however, stood out. Reminding me of a much less auspicious England result, in exactly the same Sat-Nav location, almost 23 years earlier.

Wembley Stadium: then and now ... and the pitch looks better!

Cast your mind back to the halcyon days of a long lost summer, and the Euro 1996 semi-final: England vs. Germany, under the twin towers of Old Wembley, and featuring those appalling slate-blue England shirts. We are in extra time, where a 'golden goal' could finish the tie. Paul Gascoigne is the central player in question, whose 'golden' potential would never be fully realised (there's a clue here!). He had provided the cross from a 3rd minute left-wing corner which, flicked on at the near post, lead to England's go-ahead goal. Scored, almost inevitably, by Alan Shearer. England were widely described as having been the better side in this game. It was a decent German vintage - but not a great one. Frustratingly, the Germans had ground out an equaliser in the first half - "the Kuntz", as too many of us (humourously?) observed. There were no more goals in normal time although, agonisingly, Anderton ("sick note", to his friends) had hit the post already, in extra-time, under pressure from German GK, Oliver Kahn. That was before my defining image finally arrived.

So then came Gascoigne's ultimate, career-defining moment in the spotlight. Forget the Tears of a Clown in Turin, forget The Dentist's Chair, forget the tabloid front pages featuring a portly Gascoigne out on the town with his nemesis, those celebrity "friends" of his, Chris Evans and Danny Baker. Six years on from Italia '90, Gazza was already, arguably, at the age of 29, past the peak of his powers; all too soon. Slowed by injuries (some of them so unnecessary) and already pursued by unseen inner demons.

As Shearer (of all people) provided a low cross from deep on the right of the German penalty area, which beat THREE defenders AND the goalie (the ultimate "slide-rule" pass, whatever that is) Gascoigne breezed, unmarked, into the centre of the six-yard box to administer the coup de grâce that would put Germany out of their misery and England, so rightfully, into the final of THEIR tournament to play the Czech Republic. Football really was "coming home", at last. After "thir-ty years of hurt".

But what was this? With nobody to beat but himself, Gazza seemed to physically (and mentally) crumble, in slow motion, before our very eyes. As he stretched for the ball, the weight of expectation from 60 million people (less a few bitter, self-deluding, Colin Hendry-loving Scots) was suddenly and very visibly weighing down on him. His stuttering, uncertain run and unsportsmanlike shove on his marker had slowed him down by that oft-cited and all-important "half a yard". He would, surely, need to stretch forward with his unfavoured right foot to reach this most tantalising of passes. Since, if he were to go with his left, the deliciously defence-beating pace of that cross would mean the ball would be past him before he could reach it. Gascoigne must realise this, too - won't he?!

Split-second decisions, famously, are often the defining moments of sports success - and failure. Gascoigne, marginally off the pace, chose his left foot, of course. Most of you will already know what happened next - the rest of this particular story goes: a penalty shoot-out defeat, resulting from an infamously decisive miss of the 12th, "sudden-death" spot-kick, by a 25 year-old Gareth Southgate; a golden goal win for Germany in what would have, could have, should have been England's glorious, sultry, sunny, summer final, against the Czechs; later revelations that Gazza was suffering from the beginnings of bulimia, obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD), bipolar disorder, violence towards his partner and alcoholism. [OK, so maybe we'd all had a fairly good idea about the last one of those, from earlier on.] Those memories that should have been so golden are, instead, mostly made of brass.

Anybody who sees a still photograph of that should-have-been winning goal probably, like me, reflects on it as short-hand for all the wasted millions of column inches of shoddy sports "journalism" that passes for incisive comment on England's various and much-vaunted but ultimately under-performing "Golden Generations" (sighs deeply and shakes his head). It turned out that a decent German vintage was just enough, after all, to win the glittering prizes - while England's fizz remained unopened. Yet again!


Spot the difference?!

Under the arch of New Wembley, on Friday night, however, almost 23 years later, a different sort of sighing was to be heard. They were sighs of delight and contentment (perhaps mingled with some surprise) along with the birthing sounds of yet more over-bearing National hopes and expectations - will we never learn?!

With the scoreline at 0-0, 25 year-old Harry Kane played an incisive pass inside the Czech left-back to 18 year old Jadon Sancho who, in turn, played an oh-so-familiar-looking low cross into the 6 yard box from the right of the German (sorry, I mean the Czech) penalty area. This time, Gascoigne was nowhere to be seen, struggling to make the ground and the right decision. Instead, 24 year-old Raheem Sterling had sprinted to make himself available in the centre, near what I tend to think of as The Gazza Spot. He finished with aplomb, as he does so often, these days, for his club. Getting his outstretched left boot to the ball, almost exactly on the same blade of grass where others had previously failed. As an England fan, I had naturally assumed Sterling would not quite reach it. I was most surprised to see the ball in the back of the net, the absence of an off-side flag and subsequent goal celebrations.

The Guardian's chief football writer, Daniel Taylor, observed of the game: "The most notable statistic was that the goal was the culmination of a 25-pass move in which 10 different players were involved." He was wrong though, of course. The most notable statistics were to be found elsewhere. That was just a sports "journalist" showing off his supposed note-taking and observation skills. His stat does, however, show how abjectly outclassed the Czechs were, despite being ranked second in the group by most pundits, before this match. How poor and inappropriate their strategy and style of game management were. In the opening quarter of an hour, for instance, they had already resorted to an 11-man defence and 'agricultural' (unpunished) 'clogging' of opponents. This had resulted in the unfortunate Eric Dier being removed from the game with an injury. Ironically, it was the introduction of 25 year-old Dier's replacement that did for the Czechs. So perhaps the football gods were paying attention after all. This time, at least. Southgate introduced a more attacking central player, the 25 year-old Ross Barkley, and a subtle change to the team's formation, which left their opponents chasing shadows (to borrow a well-worn journo cliché).

No, forget about 25-pass moves (one pass for each year of their average age?) and the involvement of 10 different players. Just reflect on, and glory in, the more unstressed manner in which this young England team went about their business; unburdened by pressures and expectations. Destined and determined merely to express themselves and their talents, on the pitch, for their appreciative fans ...
and one day, quite soon perhaps, to finally end 53 years - and counting - of hurt.

That 25 year-old penalty misser, of Euro '96 and Pizza Hut infamy, has clearly learned a few footballing and media lessons along his rocky career road. He is now teaching them all to the class of 2019, and they appear to be quick learners. Which is just as well, because their careers and golden opportunities will pass in the blink of an alcoholic's teary, bleary eye.

As others can surely tell them, from (pints of) bitter personal experience.

Sunday, 27 January 2019

That Familial London Derby - and yet another 'must-win' match

The English Premier League
Sunday 20th January, 2019, 4:00 pm kick-off - Craven Cottage

My son Callum intimated to me, back in November, that he'd like to watch his team (Spurs) play my team (Fulham) at Craven Cottage, this season. So I duly bought ludicrously over-priced tickets (at seventy-five of your English pounds each - it's an "A-game", y'know!) as part of his (and my) Christmas present. Another perfectly good game originally scheduled for a regular Saturday 3 pm slot, slightly spoiled by the overridingly complicit commercialism of the Premier League's servile re-scheduling of matches for TV. I still thought we could make a day of it, however, by having a relaxed Sunday lunch together, taking a stroll around South-West Central London, and visiting a gallery or museum before finally making our way to the game. It sounded like a nice idea to have some quality father-and-son time together, doing blokey stuff. At the time of initial planning, I had not reckoned on picking up a nasty and aggressive virus, over Christmas - and still being rather run-down, as a result, for dealing with a demanding Dad day. This is another negative aspect of the planning required, for fans actually attending our modern game, in the flesh. Long gone, those days of deciding last-minute, on the day, whether or not to go along to watch your 'boys'; simply handing over your shillings at the turnstiles, with everybody else.

Cal is a former student of History and Law. So a trip to a museum coupled with this fixture was especially resonant for him. As a historian, I hoped he would particularly appreciate spending some research time at the historic Craven Cottage stadium (home to London’s oldest professional club) with a fine view from our "Riverside" seats of England’s oldest surviving football league stand (the Johnny Haynes stand, opposite ours, on the Stevenage Road). The current Riverside Stand is expected to become “History” soon, itself. It is scheduled for redevelopment at the end of this season. Assuming the club's board don't wince and baulk at the proposed cost, in the face of a potential return whence we came, to The Championship. Whichever way the stand redevelopment plans go, the situation seemed to suggest that Callum could be amongst the last Spurs fans ever to sit in it, to watch his team play. Does it get any better than that, historically speaking?

Our classic (but expensive) view of footballing history ... possibly in more ways than one, come the end of this season.

We started with a Sunday steak lunch on Sloane Square, with a sunny, postprandial stroll to the venue for our cultural dessert: the National Army Museum. After which we also took on an 'amuse-bouche', in the shape of The Phene (Cal's choice: a posho's pub, as featured heavily in the low-brow TV show, "Made in Chelsea" ... Hugh Grant was NOT in the building). We then disdained the District Line and took a lift to the Fulham ground with Mohammed, from Mogadishu. He is an uber-Uber driver who, now, comes highly recommended. This last cheat saved us a good chunk of time and allowed us to soak up some 15 minutes of pre-match atmosphere inside the stadium, before the main event got going, under early evening floodlights.

Later, that old devil moon (see photo, below) would turn itself into a super-sized blood orange, under the influence of a total solar eclipse. Giving the 24/7 rolling news media an uncontroversial item with which to briefly sate their appetite for frenzied, repetitive and uninformative "news" coverage. For now, though, they would have to squeeze as much mileage as possible from the potential permutations of London's latest Premier League derby match. The questions for Fulham fans were: could our team eclipse (see what I did, there?) its pre-match billing and carry their A-game into play against 3rd-placed Spurs? And did they even have an A-game? It has been hard to tell, in recent months. Although the inflated face-value price of our tickets claimed that they indeed did, on paper at least.

Despite him not being renowned for his love of Fulham FC, Callum's and my journey brought to mind some historical, hundred year-old words, from anglophile Yankee wordsmith T.S. Eliot:

"Let us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky ...
Let us go and make our visit."

We had gone and made our visit; our pilgrimage to the shrine of London's earliest professional football. As had Tottenham Hotspur; both their team and a larger number of their fans than was strictly allowed. They did so, however, without the preferred company of the likes of 'Arry Kane, Son Heung-min, and Moussa Sissoko. Despite this, some punters, whom I hoped were being overly-optimistic, were still predicting a 0-4 scoreline - and Fulham were 5-1 ON for a home win, with the bookies. Did they not know that we had signed Ryan Babel? Many of the visiting Spurs fans had found a way of infiltrating the Riverside Stand seats. Crowd segregation at Premier League football grounds is clearly NOT, in reality, as well managed as it might claim/seem to be, on paper. In the unlikely event of a 4-0 scoreline, could there possibly be some old school, North vs. South London argy-bargy on the cards?

Some choreographed pre-match waving of big flags: what's that all about?

In a pre-match interview with The Observer newspaper, former Liverpool winger Ryan Babel stated he believes he has unfinished business in the EPL and wants to help Fulham survive. The 32-year-old had joined Fulham just that week on a short-term deal, until the end of the season. He has revitalised his career with Besiktas recently and won back his place in the Netherlands national squad. He says he still has "a burning ambition to prove some people in this country wrong". Let's hope he can deliver on that threat / promise. The same article states that Babel’s only previous experience of a relegation dogfight came in 2016, when he scored four times in five starts to help Deportivo La Coruna avoid relegation. Which would be a great model to follow. If he could only repeat that feat in our cosy little corner of South-West London, then I'd be perfectly happy.

The usual pre-match pretence of Premier League friendship and fair play ... before reality, inevitably, bites!

Keeping the "literary" theme going, club captain Tom Cairney features in an interview and his own notes in (and on the cover of) the match day programme. If he were to play against Spurs, it said, he would be making his 150th club appearance, on his 28th birthday. So, naturally, he did ... NOT play. His dialled-in contribution to the programme, however, was built upon the shoulders of giant clichés. Including: "we had a word at half-time"; "we tried to play more football"; "a win in a game like this could turn our season around"; [Babel has] "given the boys a real lift ... someone with his pedigree"; "hopefully he can hit the ground running"; "it's the best league in the world". Bingo! That's the whole set, right there. A full card of cliché contributions.
You can read the detailed match reports and what passes for sports 'journalism' on the game elsewhere, along the lines of: "battling Fulham" and "heart-breaking defeat" (e.g. at the FFC website; or in BBC coverage). The true tale of the game though was, in essence, simple enough to read: one team NOT taking its chances and failing to concentrate on the task at hand for 90+ minutes. The same team too content to sit back and try to protect a ever-vulnerable one-goal lead. An air kick (Tim Ream); a failure to read the flight of the ball, or even to get off the ground, to intercept a threatening cross (Denis Odoi); and a failure to track back in the dying seconds (Joe Bryan) were all Spurs needed, in the end, to upset the apple cart, spring the locks and "get out of jail free". When Fulham had, in fact, had the chances (including a blatant, stonewall, shirt tug of a penalty on Mitrović) and should really have got themselves 2 goals ahead in the first half - and "out of sight". You see, the Fabulous Football Pharaoh can do hackneyed clichés with the best of them, as and when he feels the need.
Oh, the result? It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. The narrowest of 1-2 defeats for Fulham, having deservedly lead for a large chunk of the game. At least it meant there would be no North vs. South London argy-bargy, after all. With no third goal looking likely in the match, we had been slowly heading towards the exit just as Spurs broke down the left, in the 93rd minute. Excruciating - and an undeserved kick in the thingies after a highly commendable, stalwart, under-dog, rear-guard action. Two 'schoolboy' defensive errors = two goals for the opposition ... for the the second week running. It would seem that Fulham have just not acclimatised, still, to the increased threat level of PL strike forces. Even Spurs' relatively blunted one.

In his programme notes, Cairney had shared the view that "if we hadn't won [the Championship play-off final, against Villa] the whole team would have been broken up". There's still plenty of time and opportunity for that though, come the end of THIS season, Tom. Time to start learning lessons and turning the talk into action, eh lads?!

Photographic evidence that it really HAD been that close a game, for the most part.

With all best wishes from your Fabulous Football Pharaoh, until next time. Which may yet be prompted by fellow keen sports fan George Lewis's planned February UK work trip, from the USA. An opportunity and excuse, if ever there was one, for a surfeit of soccer action, beers, fine wines, cigars, malt whiskies and old 'war' stories. Bring it on, George!

Monday, 31 December 2018

What's Another Year?

Norwich City vs. Derby County

Saturday 26th September, 2018: The English Championship, 3 pm k-o
Attendance 26,866


A three-time Eurovision Song Contest winner, Ireland's Johnny Logan, famously sang an anthem for broken-hearted football fans and doomed youth everywhere, back in 1980: "I've been crying such a long time, with such a lot of pain in every tear. What's another year?" And, as we reach the final knockings of 2018 it is worth taking stock of the fortunes of the Football Pharaoh's favourite sides - and some others.

Fulham FC have endured a tortuous start to their new Premier League life and will consider themselves lucky / happy to be going into 2019 just 1 point adrift of safety and 17th place. They go into their new school term with the headmaster's admonitions ringing in their ears: "Must Try Harder!" - and must resolve who's going to take the penalties.

Meanwhile, Enfield Town have enjoyed a first half which almost negatively mirror's Fulham's. A long, unbeaten start to the season was followed by a disastrous November, featuring five straight defeats in league and cup competitions. They remain, however, one of the stronger sides in the league, sitting pretty in third place, on the best Goal Differential of any side. A run of form at the start of 2019 would boost hopes of a promotion. That run could start as soon as this Saturday, when The Towners take on 4th-placed Lewes, in what looks like a promotion "6-pointer". The Pharaoh had planned to be there to bring you a 2019 view from the non-league terraces - but a nasty viral infection put paid to all of that.

The Pharaoh has not, indeed, been overly prolific in his football write-ups, so far this season. A new job has created major distractions in terms of my writing brief - but it has not stopped me getting along to some notable games across the length and breadth of The Pyramid. As well as contributing to the ongoing development of Enfield Town FC's Walking Football club, which is nearing the ripe old age of one year old. These outings have included a couple of Premier League games at Craven Cottage, each of which has defied the normal glory of a Pharaonic match report. Perhaps for obvious reasons:
Saturday 27 October 2018, Fulham FC 0 - A.F.C. Bournemouth 3
Saturday 15 December 2018, Fulham FC 0 - West Ham United 2
An immaculately observed minute's silence, ahead of Fulham's last home game before the WW1 Armistice Centenary. Fulham's players, alas, remained silent for the following 90 minutes, too!


Sometimes it can be more fun / less soul-destroying watching folk messing about on the river.

Billy the Badger and Santa setting the tone, with yet another pre-Christmas give-away, at Craven Cottage. Fulham's players took their lead and followed suit.

Both were games Fulham fans might have harboured hopes of harvesting something out of. But the footballing gods have not smiled kindly on either them or their now-"former" manager, Slaviša Jokanović. The Tinkerman, Claudio Ranieri, has taken up the reins and, to some extent stemmed the flood-tide of goals conceded - although largely at the cost of goals scored. The Good News? Since that stumble, at home to The Hammers, on a bitterly cold and wet Saturday evening before Xmas, Fulham have remained unbeaten - and have conceded just one goal in the last three games, after conceding 40 in the previous 17 games. A switch to a back five away from home and a more attritional approach in midfield may win more points - but likely few friends.

Despite that obvious performance improvement, it is still difficult to hope for much from an away game at The Emirates, on New Year's Day. Indeed, I had passed up the opportunity to see only Fulham's third win of the season, as recently as Boxing Day, in order to spend some quality time "On The Road" with former Guinness colleague Mike, en route to The Championship's match of the day. As title hopefuls Norwich entertained fellow promotion rivals, the recently renamed "Frank Lampard's" Derby County.

Fulham-Huddersfield may have entertained dubious fans with a penalty-taking squabble, following which Ranieri said he would have liked to "kill" French comedy-'footballer' Aboubakar Kamara (seriously, you couldn't make this shlt up - and the self-styled "AK47" is unlikely to hear his forty-seven guns roaring at The Emirates, next time out). Whereas Norwich-Derby had so much more to offer, all round.

 
Match-day programme, with curious artwork. It's a Norfolk thing!

So I set off up the A10, aiming for a car park in Royston. Passing Where?, sorry passing Ware and the Silver Ball Cafe on the London Road, at Reed, before meeting Mike outside the gents' toilets at Tesco. It's a long story, and one on which we need dwell no longer, here. A traditional Xmas fixture day was then enjoyed by all.

Or, at least, some. One hundred hungry miles were swiftly eaten up in football and work reminiscences and general catching up. All followed by a pint of Adnams and a sausage roll at the Trafford Arms, before a leisurely stroll to the Carrow Road Stadium to soak up 10 minutes of pre-match atmosphere before the big game finally kicked off. After which, there was plenty more to keep us satisfied. See the BBC's match report

It was a seven-goal thriller to warm the very cockles, on a rapidly cooling December afternoon. That despite the normal, poor and erratic standard of refereeing "at this level". After 35 minutes of attractive, possession football by Norwich, and with a 2-goal home lead, most sweep-stakes were taking bets only on how many The Canaries would end up winning by. But football is, famously, "a funny old game". She has a habit of stealing away your Christmas presents, just when you least expect it. And so it was that, out of nothing Derby conjured the most unlikely of late first-half goals. Twice! Norwich went into the half-time break looking like they'd gone 12 rounds with Mike Tyson, as they left the pitch counting their ears.

A tense and cagey second-half ensued. One much more balanced than the first half had been. Both sides largely cancelled each other out. That was until the 81st minute, when Norfolk's favourite Finnish footballer (Teemu Pukki) struck his second goal of the game. Things were so exciting that, as the Norwich players celebrated, one set of floodlights failed.
"We're Norwich City - we'll play in the dark!": singing Norwich fans, hoping their 'bright' idea will convince the referee to keep the players on the pitch.

After standing around clueless for some minutes, listening to a serenade from the home fans, inept referee David Webb finally led both sides off the pitch. Light conditions were still perfectly good (far better, indeed, than at the start of most floodlit games at Donkey Lane) but the FA's arcane rules on the level of lumens required and their consistent availability left the official with little wiggle room. With nothing much better to do, and with the temperature continuing to drop, both sets of fans spent the while bouncing up and down a lot and singing some of their favourite ditties, in an effort to keep interested and warm.
The clock says "84 minutes" ... so where have all the players gone?

The home club's management will rue an expensive blown fuse. After re-emerging some 20 minutes later, to finish off the tie under fully repaired lighting, Daniel Farke opted for some strategic substitutional changes - which back-fired richly, like an over-cooked plate of seasonal Brussels sprouts. Bringing on a defensive midfielder (Trybull) for the booked Vrancic and the forgotten man (Jordan Rhodes) for two-goal hero Pukki seemed to unbalance the home side. First it lost them their narrow lead. Then it resulted in an injury time winner from the visitors. A couple of great, late efforts saw Rhodes unluckily hit the bar and Todd Cantwell's fierce volley turned away to his left brilliantly by Scott Carson. Fat Frank said he'd never before been involved in a match like it. I suspect he'd happily take a repeat every remaining weekend of the season.

Due to the floodlight-induced delay and the overturned lead, we made our way later than anticipated amongst a subdued home crowd, back via the long walk of shame to my car. There followed the long drive of shame back to Tesco's car park in Royston. Mike searched all known media sources, without success, for a final score that better reflected the balance of play and his hoped-for win. But there were no more Christmas presents to be had. Not even in the virtual world. Norwich would not end 2018 at the top of the table, then. And with Leeds losing at home to Hull, they could have done, had the floodlights just stayed on.

With such a lot of pain in every tear. What's another year?

All the best for 2019 from The Football Pharaoh