WE DON'T WIN MUCH
Well here we all are then. A quarter of the way through the 97-98 season and still no updates. Apologies for the moribundity. For the hundreds of thousands of you out there who follow this site, it must be very disappointing. Still nothing has really changed: all the teams that this site enthuses over are sinking inexorably down to the bottom of their leagues. It does look as if Empoli and Barnsley are not going to shake the football world. Another new season, same old results. It was suggested that this site should be renamed We Don't Win. Full Stop. However, that was considered too pessimistic even for those of us with a serie B mentality.
So the same old prejudices still apply. Those of you support the 2 teams in Spain that win everything had better dash off to another site. If you like Celtic or Rangers, Milan or Inter, Liverpool or Manchester United, PSG or Ajax - you may not enjoy this. It is not that we hate them. Sometimes they are quite good. It is just that the experience of watching these kinds of teams lacks a dimension - an understanding that however good the season has been, however well the team has done in the league or cup, next week could well bring disaster. A victory is only a prelude to another defeat. As soon as you get promoted, you know you are in trouble. If it is any consolation to you at all, here's an apothegm for you: rubbish teams have the best web sites
If you like Cottbus, Norwich, Perugia, Partick Thistle, Mouscron, Real Betis, Raith Rovers and all the other hundreds of teams that scrape an existence, you just might enjoy this site.
What have we got to offer? Well, the usual mixture of highly informative articles and random malice.
Upcoming stories:
Unknown football leagues
Fabulous Football Fables - we wus there:-
WDWM Worst manager of the Year (1997) Award (too easy!)
Fan of the Season
The rattle and the rosette: medievalism and the modern game
Special Features for Summer 1997:
How much are your old footy programmes worth?
A competition for the worst best football song ever.
Umberto Ecco on football footwear.
Sex before the kickoff: perspectives from George Best and Naomi Wolf.
Where are they now?: a guide to pubs and retired players
Try these tepid links:
The Unofficial Norwich City FC
Fabulous Football Fables No. 1
Lisbon 29/4/93
PORTUGAL 5 SCOTLAND 0
The result looks stark, a thrashing for the Scots and with it a quick exit from the World Cup. But this is only part of the story. For while the Scottish team produced one of the more woeful displays in its chequered history, their fans more than compensated for it with an exhilarating not to mention flamboyant display of antics the likes of which have not been seen in Lisbon since Magellan encircled the globe. Not for these Scots the doleful post-mortems of the past or the violence which has been a feature of European soccer in recent years. No indeed, for this is a new breed of Scot willing to take as well as to give. Oh yes, they did have a few beers with which they cheerfully sprayed those around them, "high-tech cleansing", high jinks, nothing serious.
No, what distinguishes these Scots is that on a night of shame for their team they showed that they could still carry themselves with pride by showing the world (and the hapless Portuguese) that they had nothing to hide about nor anything to hide. And so it came to pass that on a warm night in Lisbon these white and pale sons of Scotland, supporters of Rangers, Celtic, Aberdeen, Hamilton Acies, Airdrieonians and Partick Thistle, took off their clothes and revealed what all the world suspected that there really is life behind the sporran. No more talk of nether made of heather this was the real thing! Now Portugal is a quiet country but one nevertheless in which strange peoples and sights have been seen. They were however, unprepared for this Scottish-fest. Apparently it took the police time to react. By the time they did the fair ones from the North were already on their way, traipsing through the stadium, then running like proverbial jack-rabbits out into the streets beyond. At last count the police had intercepted 40, but hundreds, nay perhaps thousands were thought to be still on the loose this morning. Rumours abound. Hundreds of Biancos,as the Portuguese call them, were said to be heading for the beaches north of Lisbon; still others were seen heading for the hills to the east of the city. Will they no come back again? Who knows. A reporter came upon one of the exposed in a cobbled side street early this morning. He had a purple and yellow Mohican hair cut and was holding on to his own cobblers. He looked a bit sheepish. He asked the way to the airport and when told he just took off. I have visions of him checking in for the return flight to Scotland. Earlier this morning six naked fans were seen shadowing two nuns as they made their way to church, presumably to find refuge there. Others have sought consolation in the only place in Lisbon with a Scottish ring to it - McDonalds. Most have vanished without trace.
The happenings here in Lisbon have been widely reported. The Times of London referred to them as a "Highland fling", while the Mirror shows a front page photograph of several bare fans beneath the headline "Butt-a-Scotch". Local Lisbon papers have been united in their comments. El Castrato in an editorial is unable to find any link between the events on and off the field of play and attributes the incident to the unusually warm temperature in the stadium. Die Stern, Germany's leading conservative paper headed the incident "Furchenaufel Bareass Kilternhommen" again with photographs. However, the French sporting paper Le Pric was more philosophical "L'Equipe Ecosse - Oomph! Mais Les Fans - AAH!!" Even as far away as San Francisco the Herald Tribune carries a picture of five naked Scottish backsides under the headline "WOW!" United Air Lines report a sudden increase in its bookings on the San Francisco - Glasgow route. The Vatican had no comment to make but Osservatore Romano reports that Pope John Paul II is going on retreat next Thursday, one week earlier than expected. Jack Charlton, manager of the Republic of Ireland soccer team commented "its just a bit of fun, let the lads enjoy themselves, that's what football's all about". Not everyone shares that view. Speaking in the House of Lords, the Earl of Kircaldie, Sir James Blackhead, said that the name of Scotland had been dragged through the mud in Lisbon and those responsible should be birched. Lord Brannock of Inverness disagreed - as far as he was aware there was absolutely no mud in Lisbon.
An in-depth analysis of the event was presented on the BBC programme Home and away. Population psychologist at Edinburgh University, Professor Evelyn Tweedie said that this was not an isolated event. Scots had always wanted to expose themselves to the world. This they had done mostly through writers such as Robert Louis Stevenson who dreamt and wrote of far off sunny places such as Treasure Island, and Alexander Selkirk whose dreams of living free of constraint on a tropical island inspired the immortal Robinson Crusoe. "So" Professor Tweedie concluded, "deep down the Scots like everyone else were quite superficial people who liked once in a while to let it all hang out". And then Professor Tweedie her voice rising, "there is Rod Stewart ....." (at this point in the proceedings Professor Tweedie swooned and had to be carried outside).
Professor David Campbell-Lamerton, a paleontologist and historian at Aberdeen University, went further "Scots" he observed, "have lived in a beautiful country blessed with one of the worst climates on earth". "This" he said had left them in a continuous state of anticipation that one fine day, there would in fact be, one fine day." He went on to say that the nature of the terrain had divided Scots and like it or not the clan system was deeply ingrained, only today the clans were Rangers, Celtic, Aberdeen and the rest. How could one ever win a football game with such intrinsic disunity in the side. The result in Lisbon was in his opinion a repetition of Bannockburn and Glencoe.
Kenneth McLeon, Professor of Philosophy, Politics, Religion and Sheepshearing at Dundee University and aspiring member of the EC Parliament said that the clouds that hung over Scotland today-were not simply vaporous but deeply rooted in the Scottish psyche. Hundreds of years of dour Calvinism had left its mark with the result that Scots felt a deep sense of guilt if they succeeded at the expense of others and were themselves happiest when they were most miserable i.e. in defeat. Scots had been trying to shed Calvinism for years, he said. The kilt was an attempt by individual Scots to return to a pre-Calvinistic era and to break free of such formal dress codes as denim jackets, jeans and T-shirts, and to let some fresh air breeze through the system. But there was hope. The mass degarmenting of Scots in Lisbon was an encouraging sign. These youngsters were prepared to show all and given the opportunity to give their all as well. The heavy cloud of Calvinism had dissipated in one truly historic moment and he for one was glad it had. He himself had high hopes for the future and he felt sure that such openly expressed views would be good for the European Community.
Chairing the discussion Mr. William Reid-Smog thanked the speakers for their contributions, told them that in his view they had been talking a lot of shit and ended with the aphorism of Robert Burns
"O would some power the gift tae gie us
To see ourselves as others see us"
Friday 30th
Lisbon is quiet this morning. The sun is shining down here beside the Athletico Stadium. The flags and bunting are being swept away and the city is returning to normal. Hanging on an iron railing here beside me is a discarded T-shirt - on the front printed in navy-blue 'Scotland' and on the back in green 'Celtic'. On the ground a few yards away are two pieces of cardboard. One says 'UP YOURS PORTUGAL' and the other 'WE'LL BE BACK'. No doubt they will.
Your Lisbon Correspondent
LIBYA v TUNISIA WORLD CUP QUALIFIER 1977
"Is it on?" A lot of football supporters start their conversations in this way. Is it on - in the sense of television coverage; is it on - or has a satellite TV company switched the time; is it on - or is the weather so bad that the game might be postponed.
In the wet winter of 1977-78 the question came to have a new undercurrent of meaning in the city of Tripoli. Libya had been drawn to play Tunisia in a world cup qualifier and the expatriate community decided that it would be right and proper that they should attend the game. However, with the lack of an English language newspaper or a television station that mentioned the event, nobody was really sure if the game was on and what time or even day it was supposed to take place. There was even some confusion as the ground. Was it scheduled for the military base or the stadium? Ali the driver said that "for sure" it was on a Tuesday afternoon. Redha the translator scoffed at this and said that it was on a Thursday. Hani the secretary said that game was on a Sunday afternoon "just like England". Nick said that he had heard from somebody who worked with the police that it was definitely on a Saturday. And Tom who kept his ear to the ground had picked up a rumour that the game had been put back another month. Richard, who loathed football, then started a story that the Tunisian team had been turned back at the border and this was so plausible that it ran for a couple of days. Indeed it was quoted back to me by strangers, although in the retelling Richard had been promoted to a "source within the embassy". Ali the driver then changed his story and said that the game had been played the day before in front of a small crowd . He then dropped his voice to add that the government wanted it that way to avoid "trouble". This seemed to be the end of the matter until someone asked him the score. There was a moment of consternation and then a big smile, "the Libyan people - they win 5 nothing". This was so unlikely that we said we didn't believe him. A shrug and a smile later, he added "I just wanted to cheer you up." We smiled and called him a bad man which was probably the nicest thing that we could say. He was so pleased with himself that he added, " the game is tomorrow".
As it turned out he was right, but there was a further difficulty. At a midmorning coffee break Noel said that the game was starting at 4 but, as he wiped the crust off the can of condensed milk, he added that he had heard that foreigners wouldn't be allowed in. We went to check this out with "our spy" Khalifa. He was "our spy" in the sense the sense that he got his free Volvo in exchange for ensuring that we didn't get into trouble. Getting into trouble roughly meant anything that necessitated official papers and so life, death, childbirth, car accidents and holidays were all to be avoided. Even he was pressed to say how going to a football game would generate an official letter and a stamp and after much consideration and a phone call he suggested that we would probably be allowed to get into the game.
And so we went. Noel and I joined the throng marching down to the game. Predictably none of the foreigners had any difficulty getting in. TO BE CONTINUED........
Dante's Purgatorio and the Unibond League Part I
When Workington Town were relegated out of the old English division 4, the local mayor was tearfully quoted on radio as saying that the town had died. All over the globe, BBC World Service gave out the football results, he said, and people who had no idea about Workington, where it was, what it was about, could tune in on a Saturday night and hear the results. Relegation meant you were never mentioned again. Non league status equaled a kind of disappearance - your plane had gone off the radar screen.
When Halifax lost their league status many UK papers carried a picture of the ground just as the final whistle had blown. The fans are in disarray, clutching their heads in disbelief, but the real focus of the picture is a policeman. He was there to stop any trouble on the last day of the season, but there he is, as caught up in the result as anybody else, looking totally dismayed. He understands as well as anybody that there is nothing worse than going out of the league.
Over the years a lot of them have gone - Barrow, Bradford PA, Gateshead, Workington, Accrington, Halifax and now Hereford. You might not have to stay very long in purgatory, but once you go out of the football league it seems impossible to get back. Of course they don't really go out of existence, they just go into the Unibond or Vauxhall Conference league - a sort of twilight zone. Before all the supporters of non-league football begin to criticise , let me say that I admire their commitment and effort. But even they must admit that going out of the league is a disaster.
Dante's Purgatorio described a world based on Tertullian's estimation that an after-relegation experience was similar to a kind of supra- worldly concentration camp where one is forced to undergo punishments in an arbitrary fashion. Punishments are given on a weekly basis and are subtly derived from the sins of a long playing career. Thus McCallister in Dante's Purgatory would have to retake his penalty miss against England again and again. Gascoigne would be stretchered off at Wembley every morning. Similarly Baggio would have to send his penalty kick over the Brazilian bar and repeatedly suffer the anguish of the appalling miss time after time - a situation which Italian fans regularly relive. It is a realm similar to Serie C1 in the Italian League - a lonely place where young and not so young players have to wait a prescribed amount of time before they ascend to the delights of the major leagues or descend into the nether world of retirement and café ownership.
So what of the Unibond and Vauxhall Conference? Are these dank and dismal places to be avoided by the brave of heart? Or should their teams be held up as moral lessons to us all? Is there a moral lesson to be drawn from the slide into relegation , a force so strong that it seems to represent footballing gravity? Perhaps Purgatory functions as a reminder, not a threat of damnation, but a gentle castigation of current form - " play like that next season, old son, and we'll be out of the league....." .
Let me leave me with the words of St Paul (2 Corinthians 5:9) - "Whether we are at home or away we make it our aim to please". And I kid you not.
WDWM Worst Manager of the Season Award
(too easy!)
Sorry Bryan, we don't think this is a fair competition.
Tragically the author of
this website
CanaryMartin
has been killed
in a road accident (12/02/1998).
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