AFC Bournemouth's financial underbelly

Image: Chris Parker, Flickr

*blows away cobwebs*

Is there life in the old blog yet? It's been a while. But I have at last written a new thing, over on The Two Unfortunates, all about Bournemouth's finances, owner and promotion to the Premier League.

Here y'are...
http://thetwounfortunates.com/the-financial-underbelly-afc-bournemouth/

Getting Wimbledon fit for the Football League

Here's an article by me for the ever-excellent Two Unfortunates, a website devoted exclusively to the Football League.

After Wimbledon's final day survival act in League Two, this piece assesses the mess that Neal Ardley inherited when taking on the job in late 2012, while also looking forwards and wondering whether Wimbledon can avoid another struggle in 2013/14.

http://thetwounfortunates.com/getting-afc-wimbledon-fit-for-the-football-league/

A glorious weekend of German football

I had my first taste of live German football this weekend, with three games in three days including fixtures at Cologne, Bielefeld and Hannover. To say it was a fun trip would be a huge understatement.

I've blogged about it in detail over at Bundesliga Lounge, a cracking site that's well worth bookmarking.

You can read the piece here. Enjoy!

Below are a few photos that there wasn't room for on the blog.

FC Koln's magnificent RheinEnergieStadion
at dusk, just as the famous towers light up

Arminia Bielefeld's hardcore support on the terrace at Schüco Arena

Robert Enke's old Hannover 96 jersey
in the supporters' bar near AWD-Arena

Tasty, delicious wurst. Mmmm...

What a matchday experience a trip to the AWD-Arena offers

Hannover's Jan Schlaudraff (No13) pictured alongside
talented Gladbach playmaker Patrick Herrmann (No7)

Also, many thanks to everyone who's given the blog a mention on Twitter. Seems to have been quite well received, which is nice. Perhaps I'll have another bash at a travelogue style piece in future.

AFC Bournemouth's Top Five Number 9s

Ted MacDougall

To celebrate the start of Prostate Cancer UK’s Football League charity partnership, here is an article I've written after the charity asked fans from each of the 72 Football League clubs to count down their top five strikers to have worn the No9 shirt. This is in recognition of the fact that prostate cancer will affect one in nine men.

If players never wore No9, they weren't allowed in, so no Jermain Defoe, Luther Blissett, etc in my Top 5. You can check who made the Top 5 for your favourite club here.

Please feel free to plug my article or any of the others through social media channels or anywhere you like. It will make a fantastic difference to a charity that is doing very important work to combat this depressingly common form of cancer.

On Twitter, it would be great if you could use the hashtag #bestno9s and/or mention that the piece was written “on behalf of @prostateuk”. Cheers!

AFC Bournemouth's Top Five Number 9s

An assessment of AFC Wimbledon's first season back in the Football League

It's been a topsy-turvy season for AFC Wimbledon so far. As a season ticket holder standing behind the dugouts, I've seen first-hand the stresses and strains that the coaching staff and players have been through. It was never supposed to be this hard.

One of my favourite football websites, the dedicated Football League site Two Unfortunates, asked me if I'd write them a piece looking at how Wimbledon have fared in League Two this season - and what they perhaps need to do differently if they're to fare better next term.

http://thetwounfortunates.com/pausing-for-thought-at-wimbledon/

As someone who only got into watching Wimbledon towards the end of their non-league journey, I am hopefully well-placed to assess the 2011/12 campaign through relatively unbiased eyes. 

Please click the link above to read my piece for The Two Unfortunates. If you have any comments, I'd be grateful if you could leave them at the bottom of the article rather than under this little plug. Cheers.

A few memorable FA Cup Third Round moments from the annals

Woking's Tim Buzaglo grabbed a hat-trick at the Hawthorns in 1991

This weekend sees the return of many neutrals’ favourite date in the football calendar – the FA Cup Third Round. And for ultimate drama, you need most of the following boxes ticked: lesser team drawn at home; the so-called ‘giant’ team to have recently hit bad form; the weather to be either cold, wet or both; and the underdog’s entire squad to have cost less than one week’s wages for the giant team’s star striker. If you have these factors in place, then you have ideal conditions for an FA Cup upset that will go down in history. And no shortage of clichés for commentators to get their teeth into.

The FA Cup is part of our heritage; it’s in our genetic make-up. Over the years winners have paraded the trophy in open-top buses to adoring crowds. When Manchester United withdrew from the competition in 2000 to compete in the Club World Championship in Brazil it caused a national outrage. It just wasn’t the done thing. It’s the FA Cup; you can’t just decide not to take part. It is an honour to compete.

As a nation, we collectively love the Third Round for its sense of David against Goliath; the chance that you might see the mighty fall at the hands of a motley crew of call-centre workers and pipe welders from Leatherhead or Blyth. And if this drama is played out on a muddy quagmire of a pitch on a freezing cold day then so much the better. If the ball is struggling to roll properly and star South American centre forwards’ teeth chatter as they pull their hands up inside their sleeves to keep warm, you can almost taste the giant killing before it actually happens. Sometimes you can just see it in the players' eyes as the opposition captain shouts: “They don’t fancy this today, lads!”

Giant killing has been a proud English pastime for as long as the FA Cup has been around. Perhaps the most impressive upsets of the ‘black-and-white’ era of football were Walsall’s 2-0 triumph over Herbert Chapman’s star-studded Arsenal side in 1933, and Worcester City of the Southern League beating Liverpool 2-1 in 1959. The Reds would go on to appoint Bill Shankly in the aftermath of that shocking defeat, and thankfully for the red half of the city they wouldn’t taste such embarrassment again until 1994 when Bristol City went to Anfield and beat Liverpool 1-0 on their own turf. That defeat also did for another Liverpool manager in Graeme Souness. They take a dim view of humiliation up on Merseyside.

The advent of colour television brought with it a gritty realism that transformed televised football. Firstly, you could tell the teams apart – generally considered a plus. Furthermore, when a poorly irrigated pitch was muddy and puddle-covered, it got beamed into millions of homes in glorious technicolour – allowing viewers at home to saviour every moment as some highly paid internationals got chased all over the pitch at a packed lower league ground so full that supporters were practically spilling onto the pitch.

The most famous such occasion – and it is here that we welcome the excitable voice of John Motson into the world of FA Cup Third Round upsets – was when Hereford United welcomed Newcastle to their Edgar Street ground in 1972. Motty summed it all up with suitably flabbergasted commentary to a television audience of 14 million captivated viewers as Hereford beat the Magpies 2-1, thanks in part to an absolute screamer of a goal from Ronnie Radford. For the tiny minority of you not familiar with the goal, it’s well worth watching it on Youtube just to soak up the moment – and delight in the sight of fans running onto the pitch, so giddy with delight that they don’t know which way to turn. The televised cup upset was born and the nation lapped it up gleefully.

Three years later and non-league Wimbledon would knock out (then First Division) Burnley 1-0 in 1975. Wimbledon then proceeded to march up the divisions and take their place as underdogs in the top flight. Despite surviving there for over a decade, Wimbledon were always viewed as ‘little Wimbledon’ or ‘plucky Wimbledon’ due to their small attendances and their direct brand of football. That changed in 1988 when Wimbledon overcame all the odds and won the FA Cup at Wembley, beating the mighty Liverpool in the final by a single goal.

Skip forward nine years from 1975 and Liverpool had well and truly got their ship in order and were enjoying an unprecedented spell of domestic dominance. Less so their great rivals Manchester United, for whom the days of Matt Busby and George Best were beginning to feel like a long time ago. This was a United team lacking in flair and lacking in trophies. But they must have thought a cup run was on the cards when they got drawn against Bournemouth in the Third Round in 1984. But they didn’t even manage a goal as the Cherries won 2-0 and secured their place in giant-killing history.

So what are the ingredients that we can look for when trying to spot a potential Third Round upset? In truth, there are many. What you’re looking for is the magic combination of: a famous name, away from home to little team, having been in wretched form in the league, with a manager who is under pressure to keep his job.

Many eyebrows were raised when Coventry City beat Tottenham Hotspur 3-2 in a classic 1987 FA Cup Final. Two seasons later, Coventry took their newfound reputation as cup thoroughbreds to tiny non-league Sutton United. Eight-thousand fans crammed into Sutton’s diminutive Gander Green Lane to watch the drama unfold. Sutton manager Barrie Williams felt that Coventry were vulnerable to set pieces and sent his team out with instructions to exploit this perceived achilles heel. It worked a treat as they scored two goals from corner kicks, sending their fans into raptures and delighting a huge television audience. The 1987 Cup winners had been humbled.

Two years later came that even more scarce of occasions—little team beats famous name in their own backyard. West Bromwich Albion had an illustrious FA Cup history, lifting the trophy five times over the decades. And when part-timers Woking made the trip to the Hawthorns, most people were expecting a whitewash in favour of the home team. But it proved to be a black day in the Black Country when, despite West Brom taking an early lead, Woking stormed back to win 4-2, with unknown striker Tim Buzaglo grabbing a dramatic hat-trick that dominated the newspaper back pages the following morning. But if Buzaglo’s antics really warmed the hearts of neutral football lovers everywhere, there was even better to come the following season.

In the early 1990s, nobody liked Arsenal, apart from Arsenal fans. They were defence-minded, and a far cry from the elaborate brand of football they’ve played during Arsene Wenger’s tenure – more famous for a well-worked offside trap than the intricate passing of today.

Top of the league table and looking strong, Arsenal journeyed to north Wales to play Wrexham, who were Arsenal’s polar opposite. While Arsenal flew the flag at the top of the Football League, Wrexham were propping it up at the bottom – they sat in last place in the old Fourth Division. The two teams were essentially the bookends between which all other league clubs could be found. And so there was surely only going to be one winner as Arsenal entered the closing stages of the game with their customary 1-0 lead. But with eight minutes to go, wily veteran Mickey Thomas – once of Manchester United – hammered in a free-kick, before youngster Steve Watkin slid in a winner past David Seaman in the Arsenal goal, to the collective cheers of a nation weary of ‘boring, boring Arsenal’.

Recent years have been a little short on memorable Third Round upsets so far – Shrewsbury’s 2-1 victory over Everton in 2003 standing out as perhaps the best – so maybe this is the season when we get a really big one. Premier League sides are so strong these days that upsets are getting fewer. But we’ve still had some classic Third Round moments, even if the big guns have not been sent packing as often as we might have liked.

Cardiff City’s then-owner Sam Hammam’s controversial dancing around the pitch as they beat Premier League Leeds stands out as one such memorable (albeit ill-advised) moment – but the finest advert for the Third Round in recent times came at Luton Town’s Kenilworth Road in 2006, when the home team stormed into a 3-1 lead, only to have their hearts broken as Liverpool came storming back to win 5-3, including a stunning lobbed goal scored by Xabi Alonso from inside his own half of the field.

Of course, sometimes an upset doesn’t necessarily involve a victory. Just holding a footballing giant to a draw still constitutes a mammoth achievement for a comparative minnow. That’s just what Burton Albion did in the same weekend as Liverpool’s exciting comeback at Luton. Burton, managed by Nigel Clough, welcomed Manchester United to their Pirelli Stadium. Against a United side featuring Rooney and Ronaldo, Burton clung on for a resolute 0-0 draw, earning them a money-spinning replay at Old Trafford in front of a 53,000 crowd. With gate receipts shared equally for FA Cup ties, Burton long felt the benefit of their day in the spotlight. That they lost 5-0 was academic – the point is, they got there.

Modified from a piece I originally wrote a few years ago when this blog was merely a glint in the internet milkman’s eye

***

UPDATE: Some of the big boys have done their own Third Round reminiscing ahead of the weekend too. So if you're hungry for more, here's links to the Independent, the Telegraph, MSN and ITV.

Is football all about the players? Part 2 of 2

Jamie Carragher and Ray Wilkins give their thoughts on why the England manager should be an Englishman. Carragher's argument is hard to argue with, but Wilkins' analysis reflects badly on the state of the English game

I had said previously that I'd report back on the talk about modern footballers at the Leaders In Football conference earlier in the month. In truth, I've been stalling on getting round to writing this blog since so much of what Jamie Carragher, Ray Wilkins and Fabio Cannavaro said on the day was reported by the media. Such is the life of a blogger who also has a full-time day job, getting round to writing up a blog on something you attended can be rendered a lot less worthwhile if somebody gives the press a few soundbites. 

The talk was less of an insight into the mindset of a modern footballer than billed, and proved to be more of a rambling discussion which leapt about quite a bit. As it turned out, the most interesting stuff was what Carragher and Wilkins had to say on the subject of the England manager. Their thoughts are not especially ones that I agree with, but were well argued nonetheless.

Carragher has strong feelings that the England manager should be an Englishmen: "Its not anything against foreign coaches coming to manage England, it’s just about what I think international football is. It’s our best against their best. Whether that’s the best keeper, best centre forward, wherever. If we’re short, then we have to improve.

"Surely if you’re English and you go on a coaching course, the idea is for the England manager’s job to be what you aspire towards? For me, you shouldn’t have a foreign member of staff. The best doctor in the country should be the England doctor, or whatever. It should be your best against another country’s best," he said.

Wilkins credits moving to Italy with turning him into a proper professional, yet still
thinks the England manager should be an Englishman due to the players' mindsets

Ray Wilkins was in vehement agreement with Carragher, saying: "I’d like to see an English manager. We’ve tried it and we haven’t gone that far in World Cups with foreign coaches. I had the fortune of going to Italy and playing. Their attitude to football is completely different to our attitude. When Fabio came in there were lots of changes, especially on the discipline side. Now, I’ve no problem with discipline at all, but the England player reacts slightly differently to the way the Italian player reacts. 

"I never became a professional footballer until I was 27 - the day I moved to Italy. That’s when I actually started to live the right way, which meant I was able to play for a long period after. Everything was so professional; the diet was kicking in then. I thought I was relatively professional until I went to Italy and realised I was unfit. The fitness coach took our fat counts, got the results and said 'We’ve got a fat guy in the room'. So of course I’m looking round thinking 'Where is he?'. But it was me. I was the fat guy. It gave me the routine I needed to live each day. Within a month I lost an inch and a half off my waist and I was flying."

Isn't that depressing? Ray Wilkins has played and lived in Italy and completely immersed himself in the culture and the mindset, and credits the experience with broadening his horizons and turning him into a proper athlete. Yet he has so little faith in the England players of today that he thinks they wouldn't benefit from a foreign coach with advanced ideas telling them a few things they might want to change if they want to cease being a national embarrassment every time they go to a major tournament.

We might be miles behind the Spanish and Germans in terms of technique, but we're even further behind when it comes to hunger. Our mollycoddled players just aren't prepared to put their faith in one man and work their backsides off. Unless perhaps if that man is an Englishman who'll "keep things simple" and constantly praise them to the hilt. 

So in answer to my original question back in part one of this blog - Is Football All About The Players? - the answer would appear to be, in this country at least, yes. It's not a happy state of affairs, but one we're stuck with for the foreseeable. All part of football's general sickness at the highest level in England.

I'm off to flick through my 1986/87 Panini sticker album and see if I can spot some ambition and pride in the players' eyes. I can hardly wait for Euro 2012.

Is football all about the players? Part 1 of 2

This week sees some of world football's top minds and most powerful decision makers come together at Chelsea's Stamford Bridge for the Leaders In Football summit. There are a number of intriguing talks on the agenda, with referee Pierluigi Collina, AS Roma president Tom DiBenedetto and the Secretary General of Qatar 2022 (that talk might be fun) among the speakers on various panel discussions.

However, it was the last talk of the two-day agenda that most caught my eye. Somewhat flippantly titled "It's the players that matter, stupid", it features a panel consisting of Jamie Carragher, Owen Hargreaves and Fabio Cannavaro.

"At the top level," says the blurb, "players and their coaches work under the most intense pressure in an environment where job security, even with a lengthy contract, often seems non-existent. Performances are assessed daily, fairly and unfairly by public and media alike as well as by employers. So what is it really like today at the sharp end of football under such scrutiny? And what do today’s heroes think will be tomorrow’s challenges?"

My immediate reaction to this is that I'd happily be under that sort of scrutiny if I was getting paid £80,000 a week (or £4.16 million pa). You can call me whatever you want for that sort of money. To my face. I'm pretty sure I'll get over it.

But is this attitude an overly dismissive one? Should we be more considerate to the pressure players are under in modern football, and consider the difficulties of taking to the field in peak mental and physical condition?

You imagine that Carragher – noted as one of the deeper thinkers currently playing the game, and a man who will surely make a decent fist of management when he hangs up his boots – will be quite forthright when he takes the mic. Players at the top level are fantastically rewarded for the job they do, and as a result have a duty to stay focused on helping their team while keeping themselves in prime physical condition. Club management will guide them along the way, but ultimately the player must push himself in trying to achieve his and the team's goals. Certainly it will be a surprise should such an uncompromising player pander for any sympathy.

Hargreaves could be a different story. His terrible luck with injuries must have pushed his mental strength to its very limit. How does it feel when every time you take to the field, you know the crowd and press are just waiting for the next innocuous challenge that puts you on the sidelines for another period of months. It will be fascinating to see what Hargreaves has to say about the last few years of his career. Does he think it's fair that the media have scrutinised his fitness so closely or has that just increased the mental anguish of being on the sidelines? Did it make him stronger or push him closer to thoughts of retirement?

As a World Cup-winning captain, Cannavaro reached the very peak of the game. He was also Fifa's World Player of the Year in 2006. Recently retired after a short spell playing in Dubai, he should be able to offer an interesting overseas perspective on life at the pinnacle of game. The English media are renowned for their continual hunger for stories, but Cannavaro has played for several top Italian sides as well as Real Madrid, so you'd imagine he knows what pressure is better than most. Certainly his time at Madrid would have been an eye-opening experience in terms of the club's intense relationship with the press.

So what will we learn from the panel? That footballers are sublimely gifted and should be protected from stresses and strains that could detract from their performance at all costs? Or will they instead concede that footballers at the highest level are handsomely paid and should "man up" and get on with doing something most people would dream to do? How do they see the nature of their job changing in years to come? It promises to be a fascinating discussion and one I'll report back on later in the week. (EDIT: make that 'later in the month'!)

In the meantime, do feel free to give your opinion on whether it is fair that footballers are placed under so much scrutiny today.

Edit 4/10/11: The Leaders In Football website has updated it's programme this week, with the panel now set to feature Ray Wilkins instead of Hargreaves. Not sure if that's definite or not; conference line-ups often seem to fluctuate until the last minute. Personally, I don't think this line-up will be quite as interesting as two current players and one recently retired World Cup winner, but we shall see. Also, I wonder why Hargreaves is no longer available?

Connect 4! From Wimbledon to Wingate

Miscellaneous musings on four football matches in four days

Attending a match every day for four consecutive days is something I've never done before. I mean, it's a bit much, isn't it? It's when you start doing things like this that you have to ask yourself if you've gone a bit far with this whole being-really-into-football lark. Maybe there are other things in life?

Still, four games of football, including two new grounds for me – lovely. I wasn't doing anything else those days anyway. The four games I settled on, for a variety of reasons (largely to do with the fact that they were happening on those days), were as follows:

Saturday 3 Sept: AFC Wimbledon v Port Vale
Sunday 4 Sept: Hendon v Lewes
Monday 5 Sept: Ghana v Brazil
Tuesday 6 Sept: Wingate & Finchley v Met Police

My first port of call was AFC Wimbledon v Port Vale. I'm a season-ticket holder at Kingsmeadow despite being a Bournemouth fan (don't ask). Wimbledon are still getting over the novelty of playing league football again. Somehow turning up on a Saturday to see the Dons against Port Vale feels a world away from the Tamworths and Eastbourne Boroughs of last season. Port Vale. Even their name sounds comfortingly Football League-y.

Wimbledon's Luke Moore challenges
Vale's dangerous Rob Taylor.
(Photo: Port Vale FC)

The game starts and it very quickly becomes apparent which side is the experienced League outfit. Vale, including the largest footballer I've ever seen in the flesh – the beastly Clayton McDonald – are all over the hapless Dons, creating chance after chance. An absurd amount of near misses, goalmouth scrambles, woodwork smacks and desperate clearances ensue. During one scramble the balls pops out of the melee and sits up perfectly for an onrushing Vale midfielder. He catches it sweetly and it appears to be crashing into the net. Instead it smacks Dons full-back Sam Hatton right in the chops and rebounds away. "How are we not losing this?" we gasp.

Vale's left midfielder Rob Taylor is getting a lot of joy down his wing. Some wag in the crowd has been hollering at Dons manager Terry Brown throughout, with Taylor's persistent running with the ball the object of his ire.

Fan: "Oy! Tel! The No3 thinks it's his birthday!"
Brown: [turning round to address the fan] "Where the 'ell 'ave you come from all of a sudden?"
Fan: "I come from Wimbledon, where the f*** do you come from?"

The rest of the crowd are not impressed by this needless aggression towards their popular manager, and for a while you wonder if the fan is going to get lynched as assorted bigger blokes growl, glower and glare in his direction.

After surviving the initial onslaught the game seesaws around; 1-0, 1-1, 2-1, 2-2, before Dons substitute Christian Jolley (who wasn't even in the squad until a late injury) rattles in an excellent winner in the fifth minute of injury time. Yeeeeeeeees! We all go absolutely ape. Brown pelts down the touchline Mourinho-style. It's incredibly harsh on Vale, but we'll take it.

The next day I wake up still buzzing from the day before. Going to another game is the only sensible course of action. Hendon v Lewes for Non-League Day gets the nod. Hendon are ground-sharing with Wembley FC at Vale Farm these days. There I meet Stuart Fuller, non-league blogging legend and author of A Fan's Guide: European Football Grounds. He's a part-owner of Lewes, who were relegated from the Conference South to the Ryman (i.e. Isthmian) Premier last season. "Is it vital to bounce straight back this season?" I ask, but after a couple of seasons battling the drop he's shaking his head. "You just want to see them win really," he says. You sense he'd only want Lewes winning promotion if they were going to be a force in the tier above. Winning more games than you lose in the Ryman suits Fuller just fine for now.

Glancing over the teamsheet, I notice a couple of famous names on the two substitute benches: Danny Dyer (Hendon) and Lewis Hamilton (Lewes). Unfortunately I fail to spot either the F1 driver nor the, erm, acclaimed thesp. I assume there must have been some last-minute ringers or something.

The teams walk out – somewhat incongruously – to Johnny Cash's 'Ring Of Fire'. One man claps. There are 20-30 Lewes fans behind their goal and they've early reason to cheer as Lewes score with their first attack.

The playwright and comic Patrick Marber (another Lewes owner) is among their number behind the goal. "Patrick, those are the newest looking trainers I've ever seen," says Fuller of his co-owner's shiny footwear. "Nice, aren't they," Marber grins, before returning his gaze to what's shaping up to be an agreeable afternoon.

A chance for Lewes, and a
famous arch in the background

All smiles disappear a few minutes later though as Hendon equalise. Lewes concede a free-kick after their keeper takes a stride out of his area before kicking it out of his hands. The goalie presumably has his mind on other things, because he then chooses to stand behind his wall for the free-kick and Hendon's Elliott Godfrey rifles the ball into the empty space.

A sub-par, chemically pint of Kronenbourg at half-time is swiftly necked, and my mood is not improved by the fact that they've run out of chips! I'd seen folk with some before kick-off and those babies were crinkle-cut. This is a hammer blow. Second half better be good.

And it is good. Lewes play some especially nice stuff, enjoy the bulk of possession, but can't quite convert their dominance into a commanding lead. Their tricky substitute Christian Nanetti catches the eye, and seemed to have more guile than a lot of players you see at this level. He wasn't quite on the same wavelength as his teammates, but certainly one to look out for if you're a Ryman League fan.

There's a decidedly iffy tackle from Hendon's Aaron Morgan on the Lewes keeper that earns him a straight red. Couple more goals and the game finishes in a 2-2 draw, although Lewes probably should have won on the balance of play.

As the teams trudge off, inexplicably, the theme from Deliverance plays. This adds a surreal quality to the end of the game handshakes among the players. Oddities aside though, an enjoyable game and an excellent advert for non-league football.

Monday evening I head off to the Ghana v Brazil friendly at Craven Cottage. A belting glass of a dark beer called Espresso in the Bricklayer's Arms near Putney Bridge sets us up nicely, but we have an absolute nightmare picking up our tickets after arriving at the ground about ten minutes before kick-off.

Fulham's shambolic ticket collection system has resulted in a rather disturbing crush of people building up. I've blogged about this worrying situation elsewhere on this site, so I won't repeat it here. But suffice to say we were not best pleased - and more than a little ruffled - once we eventually took our seats in the 32nd minute. Just as referee Mike Dean was sending off Ghana's Opare for an incident we didn't even see. Thanks Fulham.

A packed Craven Cottage. Just a
shame it took so long to get in

The half finishes in lively fashion though, as Brazil turn their man advantage into a one-goal lead – Leandro Damiao notching his first international goal. Ronaldinho's looking impressive and Neymar's off-the-ball movement is in serious danger of causing the Ghana's centre-backs ice-white shorts to turn another colour entirely.

A brief half-time chat with footballing Twitter stalwarts Jamie Cutteridge and Ryan 'The Football Project' Keaney, and then back to my seat. Well, a different seat actually. The people who had wrongly been sitting in ours when we arrived had been persuaded to move during the interval.

The second half saw more of the same – Brazil on top and looking to entertain, Ghana steadfast in their defending but hamstrung in attack by the lack of bodies. Ghanaian goalkeeper Adam Kwarasey – unknown to me until that night – had a storming second half, making two world-class saves from a Ronaldinho free-kick and a Pato header.

But the real stars were the Ghana fans, who were in excellent voice and accompanied by a lively, tuneful band of musicians. If they were that good in defeat, it's just a pity Ghana didn't get them a goal. The noise would have been audible in Accra.

Three down, one to go. Day 4 saw yours truly schlepp all the way up to West Finchley tube (25 stops from home) for Wingate & Finchley v Metropolitan Police at the Harry Abrahams Stadium. My friend and former housemate, the travel writer Rob Crossan, was good enough to accompany me. Bleak footballing outposts have long been a favourite of his after a youth very much well spent on the terraces of Wrexham's Racecourse Ground.

"Who was Harry Abrahams?" I ask one wind-beaten fellow who looks as if he's probably here every week. "Dunno mate, I'm a Hendon fan. Just fancied a game." Bizarre little coincidence to meet a Hendon fan just two days after my first visit to their place. Anyway, turns out that Abrahams was a long-standing fan of the club - and you have to applaud a team that names its ground after one its fans. The ground itself has an interesting story too. And not to leave out Met Police, their club secretary is Tony Brooking, brother of Sir Trev. Wonder if he ever swears?

Wingate & Finchley v Met Police;
howling winds not pictured

The crowd tonight looks to be about fifty. Turns out it's actually 75 (do they include caterers, bar staff and non-playing substitutes?), but still very much not a 'win gate', if you'll pardon the pun. The home team score on 13 minutes and it's one-way traffic for the rest of the half. Wingate play some scintillating stuff; one or two moves wouldn't have looked out of place at Craven Cottage the previous evening. I can't help but wonder why more people aren't turning out to watch them. The stadium is certainly set up to welcome far bigger crowds than this.

A half-time pint in the clubhouse, a weary chuckle at how tedious the England v Wales games looks, and then back for what we hope will be more sexy football.

The second half is abominably crap.

What was already a strong breeze has turned into something the weathermen like to give you some forewarning about. Rob starts to roll a cigarette and is just about to lick the rolling paper when he glances down and sees that there's no longer any tobacco sitting in it. It's nice that some divine force wants Rob to quit smoking, but did they really have to ruin the second half in the process? Gone is the sexy football, instead we now have workmanlike grit, occasional bursts of hearty swearing and a pretty limited Met Police side coming strongly back into the game. I can faintly hear some reggae in the background.

"Is that someone's ringtone?" I say to Rob. "Or have one of these blokes brought a stereo in?" We listen closely, trying to pinpoint the sound. It's coming from the Tannoy! Why are they still playing music during the game? Is it a subliminal attempt to convince us that things are still as rosy as the first half? It ain't working.

Wingate score on the counter, then Met Police pull one back and proceed to attack for the rest of the game. The Tannoy's playing 'Everybody Hurts' now. Damn right. I'm hurtin' and I want my bed. Wingate dig in and cling on to the three points. Can we go now?

We slip into a semi-comatose stupor on the endless Northern line trundle back south of the river. Four games in four days - it's been grand, but I don't think I'll be doing it again in a hurry.

Ever completed a footballing Connect 4? The aforementioned Jamie Cutteridge tells me he did six days - SIX! - last season. If you've ever done a run of several consecutive footballing days, feel free to tell us about it in the comments below. Oh, and if you really want detailed reports of the actual match action in the games I attended, you can find them on more serious websites here, here, here and here

This is football: Hackney Marshes

The slight fuzziness of this image may or may not be caused by
all the Deep Heat in the atmosphere. (Photo: Paul Flannery)

A damp squib of a Sunday. That fine rain – the kind that slowly saturates – is coming down like it can't quite be bothered. The famous Hackney Marshes football fields can be heard well before they are seen. A shrill blast of a referee's whistle; the distant noise of men versus boys blends into constant hubbub. 

Over the River Lee and suddenly there is football everywhere. Everywhere. Clusters of players chase balls in packs. The noises become more distinct from each other. A call for a pass, supportive applause and a variety of moans, grumbles and yelps of pain. "Come on! What's happened to our shape?" shouts a captain with a rip in his sock. 

Every garish team strip imaginable graces the dozens of pitches here, from a speedy bunch of lads in neon green to a lardy, angry mob kitted out in black and mauve. "Set me!" bellows a striker who's just given his marker the slip. He is not set. There are gestures.

Such wholesome recreation relieves the gloom of the surrounding area. Grim, grey towerblocks pepper the horizon. Huge pylons and cables criss-cross the perimeter of the marsh. Jumbo jets pass silently overhead, occasionally concealed by the swirling charcoal-coloured clouds. An imposing gas works in the middle distance looms over the trees, adding yet another eyesore. A murder of crows lurk in a radical, lop-sided 2-1-6 formation on an empty pitch. Their opponents (presumably seagulls) do not appear to have turned up and one solitary magpie won't do. For a start there's the clash of kits. The Olympics may be coming to town but still, this ain't exactly Disneyland.

It is, however, just like the Premier League in a lot of ways. We still see the flashy white boots, the outrageous hairstyles and the pre-rehearsed goal celebrations, but it's much more real. What these games lack in pristine playing surfaces and roaring crowds they more than make up for in determination, entertainment value and good old-fashioned muddy chaos. 

Mud, a strong breeze, scenic pylons: what more do you want?
(Photo: BBC World Service)

The tradition of 40-year-old men with beer guts working off their hangovers here is starting to die out. Most present are reasonably fit and take their football pretty seriously. The minority of portly pint-guzzlers stand out markedly as their shirts stretch over flabby bellies. This seems to apply to goalkeepers in particular. Some of the cuddly custodians on show can barely squeeze into their Spall jerseys.

Back to the action and the neon greens break swiftly into attack. Their red-and-white-striped opponents chase back gamely but to no avail as the onrushing striker finishes with aplomb. [Always wanted to use that word in a piece.] His jubilant team-mates yelp with delight and punch the air. The scorer is mobbed and soon there's big bundle of them atop him. E9's WAG equivalents grimace at the prospect of washing out all that mud as their high heels sink into the quagmire. The stripes conduct a brief but sweary post-mortem and roll up their sleeves ready for the kick-off. Revenge is swift. They go straight down the other end and score. This time we are treated to a brief jig around the corner flag as number 11 wiggles his hips in the direction of, well, nobody, before he too disappears under a swarm of stripes.

On the adjoining pitch, a slim winger with a flamboyant French accent stands – hands on hips – demanding a pass. A team-mate duly obliges but where is the Gallic flair we have come to expect from the French? Where is the va va voom? His legs get tangled in a mess and he runs the ball out of play. His colleagues exchange glances in a manner that suggests this happens often.

No, I don't know what's happening here either, though the
game, enjoyably, is between FC Bertoli and Kings Hell Cats.
(Photo: 'phatboysim', Flickr)

Walking a little further down, a very combative game is taking place. Challenges are flying in, tempers are fraying and nobody has any time on the ball. A man in red who seems to be made entirely out of mud attempts a sideways pass to a foppish blond team-mate. The pass is woefully underhit and the team-mate gets clattered by an opponent. Mud-man’s shoulders slump as his peers offer some choice words. “That was a hospital pass,” says one. “He’s just killed himself going for that ball,” yells another. Thankfully, the blond is not dead and gingerly extracts himself from the sodden turf. 

Some games are finishing. Whistles sound, teams shake hands and winners dash off to the adulation of an imagined crowd. Losers adopt a familiar trudge as they gather up their kit and head for the pub. One unlucky soul has to go and retrieve the goal nets which have been stuck up with masking tape. Many a strip of coloured tape decorates most of the posts, a memento of games gone by. Half-time orange segments lie strewn about the pitchside, every drop of sustenance sucked out. An empty packet of Marlboro Lights lies inches behind a goalmouth. Clearly one particular stopper had an easy time of it today.

From the changing rooms wafts the scent of Deep Heat and the clank of studs on concrete. They’ll all be back next week too. The particularly keen might even have cleaned their boots.

Pre-match meal or half-time energy boost? (Photo: Ben Dylan)

While I'm loathe to give major sports apparel manufacturers any more advertising than they need, this mid-1990s advert features famous Premier League players turning out for pub teams on Hackney Marshes, which gives you a glimpse, albeit heavily stylised, into what it's like down 'Ackney Marshes. It also features one of the greatest intro moments you'll see... "Shuut oop!"

Bombed out! The thrill of surprise omissions

There's something terribly dramatic about a key player getting unexpectedly dropped by his manager. The more shocking it is, the closer the bond between manager and player, the louder the audible gasp in the stadium when the teams are read out – the longer they live in the memory. This article looks at the men whose dreams were unexpectedly crushed when their manager jettisoned them at the last minute, and the men chosen to replace them...

JIM LEIGHTON, MAN UTD, 1990 FA CUP FINAL REPLAY
Perhaps the daddy of all droppings, this. Everyone remembers the moment Sir Alex Ferguson bombed out the goalkeeper he'd kept faith with nearly all season, to bring in Luton Town loanee Les Sealey. United had played out a thrilling 3-3 draw in the first game against opponents Crystal Palace, and while Leighton had his wobbly moments – as he had been having for quite some time – few really expected Ferguson to ditch him. And yet in the build-up to kick-off in the match (played, incongruously, on a Thursday) rumours started to spread. Somebody must have leaked the team news because, if memory serves, people were speculating wildly that Sealey would be thrown in at the deep end well before the teamsheets were out. And once it was confirmed, Wembley (particularly the United end) was in shock. Perhaps sensing that Sealey would be knee-knockingly nervous, many fans chanted his name prior to kick-off. It did the trick. Sealey made several excellent saves as United nicked the game 1-0 thanks to a rare goal from full-back Lee Martin. It was the first trophy Ferguson won with United. How different things might have turned out. Sealey tragically died after a heart attack in 2001, aged just 43. As for Leighton, he never played for Manchester United again.

PAUL GASCOIGNE, ENGLAND, 1998 WORLD CUP
Another famous example came when England manager Glenn Hoddle had to whittle his provisional World Cup squad down to a final selection. Eight players had to go and it was extremely tough for Hoddle to settle on exactly which eight. Normally Gascoigne would be a shoo-in for the squad even if he wasn't going to be first-choice starter, due to his central midfield conjuring ability. But he had been beset by personal problems (as so often in his career), which added an element of doubt. Was he in the right mental state for the pressure-cooker atmosphere of a World Cup? Hoddle, who as we know places considerable import on mental wellness, decided Gascoigne was not. Cue floods of tears and (allegedly) a considerable tantrum as poor Gascoigne struggled to come to terms with the fact that his World Cup dream was over; he would not get chance to shine again like he had in Italy in 1990. Among the other seven to be omitted were Phil Neville, Nicky Butt, Jamie Redknapp and Dion Dublin. Hoddle, so the story goes, was asked in a press conference about why he'd not selected his talismanic midfielder. He got the journalists to turn their dictaphones off and asked: "Would you take him?" None of them said they would.

RONALDINHO, BRAZIL 2010 WORLD CUP SQUAD
It's a depressing indicator of the rampant commercialism in world football today that you know a World Cup is just around the corner because Nike will put out a epic commercial, usually featuring some of Brazil's most skillful players. Ronaldinho was the focus of their affections this time, performing step-overs by a corner flag as a ticker showed Youtube views and Facebook 'likes' whizzing into the millions. Cue Dunga's squad announcement: no Ronaldinho. Never mind Nike, it only cost many millions of pounds to make the ad and broadcast it thousands of times over in expensive prime-time slots on television networks across the globe. Better luck next time.

ALAN SHEARER, NEWCASTLE UTD V SUNDERLAND, TYNE & WEAR DERBY, 25/08/99
Another hugely memorable moment, as the massively under pressure Newcastle manager Ruud Gullit grew fed up of the dressing room factions conspiring against him. A small group of players, led by Alan Shearer and Rob Lee, were (it was alleged) trying to turn the rest of the squad against the Dutchman. Gullit, perhaps underestimating the seismic reaction dropping Shearer would have with the Geordie faithful, left him on the bench (along with Duncan Ferguson) in favour of such luminaries as Silvio Maric, Paul Robinson and Jamie McClen. It appears the clash of enormous egos was too much for Gullit in the end; dropping Shearer would be the final nail in his coffin. Newcastle lost 2-1 to their newly-promoted arch rivals. The Toon Army had seen enough and so had chairman Freddy Shepherd. However, apropos of nothing, Newcastle were drawing 1-1 when Shearer came on as a 72nd-minute substitute.

STEVE BULL & ROBBIE KEANE, WOLVERHAMPTON WANDERERS V ARSENAL, FA CUP SEMI-FINAL, 05/04/98
What a proud day for Wolves fans, getting through to an FA Cup semi against Wenger's Arsenal at Villa Park. But it wasn't to be a happy day for the club's hugely popular strikeforce of Steve Bull and Robbie Keane. Wolves manager Mark McGhee opted for the languid, socks-round-the-ankles charms of Steve Claridge instead, before introducing his prized pair during the second half. However, by that point Arsenal had been in the lead for a long time, having scored what proved to be the only goal of the game in the 12th minute through Christopher Wreh.

DARIUSZ KUBICKI, DERBY V SUNDERLAND, 14/09/96
Dariusz Kubicki was something of a jobbing pro, mostly unspectacular, so you may be wondering why on earth he's in included in this list. Well, it's because Kubicki had been a dependable and consistent servant for Sunderland and was just one game shy of equalling the club's post-war record of 125 consecutive appearances (held by George Mulhall). This fact had been given the big build-up by the local press and fans were looking forward to giving Kubicki the round of applause he richly deserved for such an impressive feat in an era of three substitutes and squad rotation. The big day arrived and Sunderland headed to the Baseball Ground to play Derby County. The tannoy announcer read out the Sunderland team: "Tony Coton, Gareth Hall, Martin Scott, Andy Melville, Richard Ord, Michael Gray...". Hang on a minute, the Mackems fans thought. No Dariusz? Maybe he's in midfield? "...Kevin Ball, Steve Agnew, Paul Bracewell...". Nope, not in midfield either. Peter Reid had dropped Kubicki just as he was poised to enter club legend. Every Sunderland supporter was utterly bemused, not least because playing in Kubicki's place was Gareth Hall, one of the worst footballers of the Premier League era (as Chelsea fans will testify). Presumably Kubicki had a word with the gods, because Hall went on to concede a needless late penalty that cost Sunderland the match. Actually, scrub that, he'd probably have done that anyway. 

DAVID BECKHAM, MAN UTD, 2002/3 SEASON
The finest right foot Manchester United has ever known, Beckham was shocked to discover that – upon returning from injury – he could not dislodge plucky Ole Gunnar Solskjaer from the right-midfield berth in Manchester United starting line-up. Ferguson appeared to feel that Beckham had become too much of a celebrity, too big for his boots, not focused enough – plus Solskjaer was doing the business. Some would argue that Ferguson has been annoyed with Beckham for a long time. In February 2000 Beckham skipped trained just 48 hours before a key game with Leeds, apparently because son Brooklyn was unwell. "It wasn't so much a clear-the-air meeting between the pair, more a case of Ferguson reminding Beckham what is expected of him," wrote Paul Hetherington in the Sunday Mirror at the time. The relationship deteriorated further on 15 February 2003 when, in the wake of an FA Cup defeat to Arsenal, a livid Sir Alex Ferguson threw or kicked a football boot in Beckham's general direction, striking him just above the eye and causing a cut that required stitches. Speculation was rife about Beckham's future, and so it was that he left for Real Madrid in a £25m move that summer. The finest of Fergie's Fledglings had flown the nest. Beckham had grown too big for even Sir Alex to handle. 

Beckham shows off his stitches in February 2003

Many thanks to all who suggested entries for this article. There were many good ones that didn't quite make the cut: Matt Le Tissier missing out on an England squad after an England B hat-trick; Sander Westerveld going from Liverpool's first choice to third choice when Liverpool signed Dudek and Kirkland on the same day; Alan Hansen's World Cup '86 omission by stand-in manager Sir Alex Ferguson; Daniel Passarella's refusal to pick Fernando Redondo for Argentina unless he cut his hair, and many more besides

Brian Moore and 'The Big Match'

The release of a DVD archive of the best moments from ITV's 1970s and early 1980s football programme The Big Match offers a treat for those old enough to remember it the first time around, and for the rest of us, a glimpse into an era when football really was all about the football, and not about vast sums of money, image rights and WAGs. And at the centre of this feast of proper football is one of the true gents of sport - the late, great Brian Moore

***

Those of you who are, like me, born after the 1970s will probably only be familiar with Brian Moore as a commentator. For the duration of the 1980s and 1990s Brian Moore was the consummate football commentator – passionate yet professional, with a vocal range that went from a gruff, excitable roar [think Michael Thomas’s title-winning goal for Arsenal at Anfield in 1989, heard from 6mins 50secs here] to beautifully understated, often letting passages of play elapse commentary-free until there was something that needed saying. An example of him letting the football do the talking comes here as Norman Whiteside scores an FA Cup-winning goal in 1985 - simple and succinct, but very effective. Most television commentators say too much, as if the game is on the radio and we can't see it. No need to fill every second of airtime with noise. 

What The Big Match lacked in style, it made up for in substance

But before my time Moore was also a football anchor for ITV, fronting their coverage of The Big Match alongside Jimmy Hill and - for a time - Brian Clough as well. I'd seen bits and pieces of this classic football show, and it all looked charming and entertaining, if rather low-budget compared to today's high-tech efforts. But my interest was piqued when I was sent a review copy of a DVD entitled The Big Match: The Best From The Studio. This sat around the house for a bit until I finally had a free evening to sit and watch it. It's no exaggeration to say that I became completely lost in it's rather geeky, retro charms.

The footage turned out to be an absolute joy; a fascinating glimpse into the football world that existed just before I was old enough to notice. The is very much a no-frills compilation. No new footage, no director's commentary, no bonus features, no accompanying documentary - it's just a bunch of clips, arranged in logical clusters that you select from a main menu. You can't even 'Play All'. To all intents and purposes this is not designed as a typical entertainment product; rather it is an archive, a time capsule, a nerd's paradise.

There's so much to enjoy here and most of this blog will be devoted to telling you of some of the delights to be found on the DVD. But before I do, it's important to stress that while the footage is truly memorable, it is an absolute pleasure to see so much screen time of Brian Moore talking about football. I miss Brian. He was always my favourite commentator. Better than Motson. Better even than the brilliant Barry Davies in my opinion. He brought warmth and energy to every game he commentated on - and he very much stuck to commentating. Davies would get on his high horse about topical issues of the day (hooliganism, England being awful, etc), while Motson could be a bit anecdotal and bring himself into the commentary rather too often for my taste. Moore just commentated on the game he was watching. That was his job. He did it perfectly and professionally. Even if you aren't too bothered about some of the footage on this DVD, it's still a pleasure to watch Moore at work. Right, onto the action.

JIMMY FANCIES HIMSELF AS A REF
We start with a section looking at 1970s refereeing and the laws of the game, something of a labour of love for Jimmy Hill (blissfully unaware of how unevenly trimmed his beard is) and his one-man quest to right all of football's wrongs. We see footage of controversial moments, Hill's suggestions for rule changes to improve the game, debatable bookings (or 'name-takes' as Jimmy insists on calling them). He's irked that the FA are meddling with things, and not the right things; they're trying to fix something that, in his opinion, isn't broken. "We should be on top of the world. Our teams are winning in Europe. I don't see why we should be committing hari-kari in this way," he offers.

We're treated to footage from the occasion when a referee was injured and Hill, a spectator that day, had to step in as an emergency linesman at an important game. You've probably heard about this incident but it's illuminating to see so much footage of it. There is a wonderful look on Arsenal manager Bertie Mee's face as he realises that, yes, Jimmy Hill really is going to be running the line. Hill, anxious that viewers might think he did it because of an enormous ego, stresses: "In order to be an efficient linesman, I had to fade into the backcloth. I wasn't there to entertain people, I was there to do a job of work."

Moore reads Hill a letter sent in from a Mr G Iyson, chairman of a Bristol refereeing association, who is convinced that Rodney Marsh was offside when he scored the previous week. At this point ITV show a replay - no clever angles, just the regular footage, and Hill rather easily demonstrates that Marsh is clearly onside. Case closed. G Iyson shamed.

IT'S JIM ROSENTHAL! HE'S YOUNG! HE'S GOT HIS OWN BIT!
Up next we have Jim Rosenthal's News Desk, a compilation of quirky news features run in this section of the show during the early 1980s. The finest of these profiles two ex-Chelsea stars Peter Osgood and Ian Hutchinson playing for their local non-league side Spital Old Boys and running a pub together. The lads, puffing quite a bit, are interviewed on the touchline at the full-time whistle. Rosenthal asks them about the pub. Turns out it's a really grotty looking place called The Union Inn. They show a still of it. Yuck. "Peter looks after the bar and I look after the catering side," says Hutchinson. I doubt this had the viewers flocking there in their droves.

Fresh-faced Jim

Among the other highlights in this section are Fred Dinenage getting chucked in the bath at Bournemouth and a brief snippet of footage of a bouffant Glenn Hoddle out on his bicycle as he tries to regain fitness after an injury. Hoddle is huffing and puffing along, the bike creaking noisily as he does so.

VIEWERS' LETTERS: BETTER THAN TEXTS AND EMAILS
The segment of the DVD dealing with viewer correspondence is perhaps the best stuff of the lot. When reading out each letter, Moore's house style for crediting authors is remarkably thorough in the detail. "This letter's been sent in from a Mr W E Aveling of 93 Cedar Road, Strood in Kent", he says. What? You've told the nation where this poor sod lives, Brian! Imagine this nowadays. There'd be rude daubings all over the guy's house within half an hour of Match Of The Day finishing.

One letter comes from a puzzled Australian viewer enquiring what the strange pitch-side alphabetical hoardings are, that he's seen during televised games. We learn that the letters correspond to fixtures in spectators' matchday programmes, and the numbers indicate the half-time scores in those games. Another viewer asks, "Where are the Spurs double-winning side now? ITV have prepared a board (yes, a physical board, not on-screen graphic) to answer this one, and they run through the whereabouts of each player in turn and what they do for a living now. Alongside more typical entries like "football coach" and "lives in Toronto" are a few more notable ones. Bobby Smith is, rather vaguely, involved with "buying and selling", John White died tragically after being struck by lightning on a golf course, and Maurice Norman, wonderfully, now runs a knitwear shop in Frinton-on-Sea. I doubt you'll see any current Premier League players treading this path in the years to come.

We're treated to a peculiar tale of a cow invading the pitch at a game, breaking a goalpost and causing the rest of the game to take place with a spectator holding the post up. There's some video of hirsute Norwich striker Dave Paddon scoring powerful free-kicks in much the same way as Cristiano Ronaldo 'pioneered' at Manchester United. A couple of younger viewers have written in too. One asks how to prevent getting blisters from football boots (again, imagine Alan Shearer dealing with this sort of query now), and he is given an insight into how Clough does it at Derby County, ie. force your players to sit with their feet in a trough of surgical spirit. We even see a photo of David Nish undergoing this ordeal - necessary precautions because "Nish's feet are worth a few bob". The other young lad to write in asks if The Big Match can please re-run the clip from last week of a policeman falling over because his sister "laughed so much it made her cry".

Finally, rounding off this section, we get some cracking footage of German goal machine Klaus Fischer practicing overhead kicks in a crash-matted penalty area, complete with Brian Moore's purring over the beauty of the slow-motion replays, followed by scenes of The Big Match presenting Brian Clough with a birthday cake in his office at Nottingham Forest. A dopey-sounding Peter Shilton does the honours with the cake, showing some subtle signs of coercion as he does so:

Shilton [with cake]: "I've got to... err... I've been asked to present this to you."
Clough: "Give over! From Brian Moore? It doesn't blow up does it?"
Shilton [cogs visibly turning]: "Uhh, I don't think so. It better not do. It's his fault if it does."
Clough: "Give us a kiss!" [pecks him on the cheek]

***

GOLDEN GOALS
No need for me to say too much on this section, it is simply a compilation of goal-of-the-season competitions played one after the other. There are dozens of absolute corkers, but just a few personal highlights to whet the appetite: Bobby Kerr for Sunderland v Birmingham in 1972, smashed in from a cross a la Paul Scholes against Bradford about 10 years ago; Chris Garland scoring against Spurs for Chelsea in 1972 - worth a look for the way the crowd on the terrace swell forward en masse as it goes in; Don Rogers goal of the season from 1973, scored against Stoke while looking pretty damn awesome in a white Palace kit with solitary red and blue stripes down the centre. Rogers, wearing 11, gets one gold digit on each stripe. This (pictured below) looks undeniably cool; Brian Bason scoring for Chelsea against Carlisle in 1976, notable for the fact that he's down injured in the build-up, but picks himself up and, despite a severe limp, wellies in a rocket.

Don Rogers scoring for Palace in 1973, wearing a rather nifty shirt

BACK IN TIME
The regular 'Where Are They Now?' segment on The Big Match was probably even more interesting to 1970s viewers than it would be to us now. I for one am always fascinated to learn what random players of the 1980s, say Vince Hilaire or Ian Crook, are up to these days. Multiply that by five for viewers in a pre-internet age - it's not a service Rothmans has ever provided, sadly.

The format seems to be: get a letter from a viewer wondering where some old boy is now, track him down, get him to pose for some awkward photos, show the photos one-by-one on the telly while saying what he's been up to. There's some belters in here too. Former Swansea forward Trevor Ford is now "sales director of a prosperous car dealership in Merthyr Tydfil" and is apparently saddened that he remains Wales all-time top scorer, something he puts down to the fact that "centre forwards these days just aren't prepared to get hurt in their quest for goals".

Then there's former Brentford keeper Joe Crozier, now director of a lighterage company, with a fleet of tugs and barges to his name. There's a cracking shot of him standing on one of his barges and pointing at nothing in particular, but the best photo is the one from his playing days. How wonderful is this photo? The panic-stricken facial expression, the ball that looks less like a football than any you've ever seen, the fact that he appears to be screaming "Nooo!". It's slightly like Patrick McGoohan fleeing from the big orb in The Prisoner, only in reverse.

Meanwhile there's ex-Portsmouth man Norman Uprichard, who now works behind the bar in a student union; old Spurs forward turned newsagent owner Len Duquemin, who these days has to leave Spurs games early, in time to get back to his shop and sell the evening sports papers; and what's this - yes! - it's Maurice Norman. They've tracked him down to his wool shop. They've got photos! Natty cardy, Maurice.

ANNUAL RETROSPECTIVES
The DVD wraps up with a couple of Year In Review features, where they look back on the footballing year just past (1970 and 1971 are included). A clear highlight in this section is Malcolm Allison's thrilling argument live on the show with Alan Mullery. They don't hold back, saying exactly what they think of each other. It largely consists of Allison informing Mullery that he's not as good as he thinks he is, and that he doesn't have any pace. Mullery generally takes this abuse while doing lots of facial expressions like this, before having a pop back. It's compulsive viewing.

There's also footage of Eusebio taking penalties against Gordan Banks (he scores nine out of 10); a player colliding with the goalposts at Swindon and breaking them - quite a dramatic thing to witness; some cracking footage of a packed early-1970s Kop in full voice at Anfield; and Banks again, this time making 1971's Save Of The Year from a penalty in the League Cup semi-final against West Ham. What's most noticeable here is that some of the West Ham team can't look as the taker steps up. Imagine any Premier League team caring that much about the League Cup now.

And that's it. A superb two hours of the sort of football - and coverage of football - that tends to be sadly lacking today. Coverage that focuses purely on the game, diverting only for any aspects of mild humour around it, all glued together by the most tremendous of football men that was Brian Moore.

***

Fittingly, not wanting to cause a fuss, Brian Moore passed away the same night that England thrashed Germany 5-1 in Munich. His death was largely overlooked by the media - a tragedy almost as great as the fact that he was never included in any Queen's Honours List. However, if any good came of this, it is that it's as if Brian never really died. He lives on in his magnificent commentaries and in his gentlemanly presentation style on The Big Match.

The Big Match: The Best From The Studio is available for £9.99 from Tikabooson.com

Top 10 most improved Premier League players of 2010/11 so far...

It has thus far been one of the most unpredictable and captivating Premier League seasons to date. Yes, this league has its faults and is overrun with greed, but matters on the pitch remain jolly good viewing for the most part, with some standout performances. This article picks out a top 10 of the most improved players so far this season. To qualify, players have to have played in the Premier League before 2010/11 - because of the difficulty in comparing, say, Peter Odemwingie's form for West Brom this season with his form for Lokomotiv Moscow last term. So, here goes then, in ascending order...


10) Rafael, Manchester United 
This has been the season where Rafael has really made the step-up and claimed the United right-back slot as his own - sporadic Gary Neville horror-show cameos aside. A bustling, energetic presence up and down the flank, Rafael has been a huge factor in United's recent knack of picking up points while not playing brilliantly. Some naivety remains, as evidenced by his red card against Tottenham, but he's positionally better and stronger in the tackle than before. Imagine how good he'll be when the transformation is complete - not to mention if brother Fabio turns out to be a late bloomer...

9) Joey Barton, Newcastle United
It pains me somewhat to have to include Barton in this list. I cannot stand the guy and don't think football has a place for his brand of callous nastiness. Yet if I'd left him out, this wouldn't have been a credible list. He may have disgusted us all on numerous occasions with his behaviour, but he has been just as vital a component in Newcastle's recent success as the more widely heralded Andy Carroll. Finally, for perhaps the first time since Stuart Pearce's reign at Manchester City, we are seeing Barton's range of passing. His eye for a defence-splitting pass is up there with the best in the league, both from central and wide positions. He has flourished on Newcastle's right in a similar way that other tucked-in wide midfielders such as Mikel Arteta have done in previous seasons. 

8) Ben Foster, Birmingham City
I was guilty of moreorless writing Foster off as a goalkeeper with the potential to play for a Premier League club. My concerns began in March 2007 - during Foster's otherwise pretty impressive loan stint with Watford - when he allowed an 80-yard punt from Spurs keeper Paul Robinson to sail over his head and straight in. Since then he had looked shaky whenever he came into the Manchester United side, almost as if he found it hard to mentally prepare himself at short notice. But this season he's finally looking like the player people said he was. It wouldn't have been easy to follow in the footsteps of Joe Hart's superb loan spell at Birmingham last season, but Foster's managed it, and is the Blues' player of the season so far by some margin - even if you were to take into account his recent League Cup shocker against West Ham.

7) Matt Jarvis, Wolverhampton Wanderers
When Wolves came up into the Premier League, all the talk was of their bright, exciting young winger that was potentially going to terrorise a few opposition full-backs. They were talking about Michael Kightly, of course. But while Kightly has been blighted by injury, Jarvis has flourished away from the spotlight. Several decent performances last season played their part in helping Wolves to retain their Premier League status. But this season, with Kightly still nowhere to be seen, Jarvis has become Wolves' key man. Able to play on both sides, go either side of a player, cross, shoot and work his little socks off, Jarvis is the kind of player fans warm to. Random fact: both of his parents were professional table tennis players, don't you know.

6) Alex Song, Arsenal
Song and Arsenal are a perfect fit. It wouldn't be right if a side of Arsenal's daintiness had an out-and-out 'water carrier', ala Makelele, Tiote or Deschamps. I had a spell of observing Song regularly when I used to go and watch Charlton and he was on loan. You could see he had bags of ability, but he was prone to moments of dopiness or losses of concentration. Last season, with a prolonged run in the Arsenal team, he seemed to cut a lot of these out, with the one downside being that he stopped being remotely creative, settling on giving Arsenal some solidity in the centre. This season, growing in confidence, he's rediscovering his propensity to make inspirational bursts forward and give the team a kick up the backside when they begin to stagnate. Arsenal still have a tendency to be flakey, though perhaps less frequently as Song continues to bloom. 

5) Danny Welbeck, Sunderland (loan)
The sprightly Welbeck looked instantly promising the first couple of times we saw him in Manchester United shirt in 2008, even scoring on his Premier League debut. But back then he seemed to have a touch of Ian Wright about him - a striker with some swagger, a predator that would score some great goals. That's looking less accurate lately, as we see him blossom into a hard-working, dangerous player cutting inside from the wing. When Sunderland have played well in recent months, Welbeck has tended to stand out. When you've got workrate and goals in your locker, you'll always to be a hit with the fans. And Sunderland's will not want his loan spell to end. 

4) Johan Elmander, Bolton Wanderers
Surely the most surprising entry in this list. If you'd had to pick 10 players that might appear in this list when the season started in August, you certainly wouldn't have gone for Elmander. For so long derided as a poor bit of (£8.2m) business by Gary Megson, the bulky Swede has found his feet under Owen Coyle - perhaps because Coyle's brand of football means that he receives the ball to said feet a little more frequently than under Megson. And those feet are pretty nifty at times. His what-the-heck-just-happened-there goal against Wolves this season is perhaps the best strike from inside the penalty area for several seasons in the Premier League. He now needs a second half of the season to match the first half, and Bolton could find themselves in Europe.

3) Luka Modric, Tottenham Hotspur
When Modric joined Spurs from Dinamo Zagreb in 2008, a lot of people were excited at the sort of impact that the stand-out star of Slaven Bilic's talented Croatia side might have in the Premier League. Perhaps the one reservation was whether a player so slight of build would be able to handle the energy and physicality of England's top flight. They needn't have worried - the inspirational midfielder has proved that he can mix it with the best of them, and buzzes around the field for the entire game, rarely tiring noticeably or needing to be withdrawn (at time of writing, he's completed 15 consecutive 90 minutes in the league). Much fanfare has been devoted to Rafael van der Vaart and Gareth Bale for 'taking Spurs to the next level' this season. Modric deserves every bit as much credit as those two, he just doesn't score enough goals to hit the headlines as often. But Andrea Pirlo's record of a goal every nine games for Milan is only slightly better than Modric's one in 11 for Spurs - and that hasn't stopped people praising him to to hilt during his time at the San Siro. Plus, I've a sneaky feeling Modric might start to add a few more goals to his repertoire soon, as he takes advantage of teams doubling up on Bale and Van der Vaart. Then perhaps he'll get the widespread acclaim he fully deserves. 

2) Leighton Baines, Everton
I didn't see this one coming either, I must admit. If you'd been surveying me on my level of caring at the news of Baines' omission from the World Cup squad - in favour of Stephen Warnock, no less - I'd have taken my time deciding between "d) Only slightly" and "e) Not at all". Put bluntly, Baines did not cover himself in glory last season. For the most part he looked an ordinary left-back, prone to getting dragged out of position and leaving his centre backs exposed. This season he's significantly more solid at the back, and an absolute menace down the flank when Everton are in possession. His energy levels, hunger to receive possession and top-quality crossing have made him a rival to Ashley Cole as the league's best left-back this season. At times, Tim Cahill's had to do little more than keep his eye on the ball to score a headed goal, so peachy have Baines' deliveries been - seven Premier League assists and counting. The challenge for Baines now is to do this consistently, for the rest of his career.

1) Samir Nasri, Arsenal
Occasionally during Arsene Wenger's reign as Arsenal manager, a player that had been going about his job reasonably well will all of a sudden find a new level of performance. It's happened with Henry, Van Persie, Eduardo, Song, Gilberto Silva - and no doubt Wenger's banking on it happening with Theo Walcott as well - but Nasri's progression from one season to the next is arguably the most pronounced development seen by a player within a single season in Wenger's entire time at the club. Last season Nasri looked a tidy player, with a dash of guile and a penchant for the odd crucial goal. This season he's outshone even Cesc Fabregas in Arsenal's midfield to become the Gunners' key man in many games. Nine Premier League goals by New Year's Day indicate the contribution he has made - with six of those goals earning Arsenal extra points in the process. The only surprise is that he has just one assist to his name so far, perhaps because he is the one getting on the end of flowing moves, rather than setting others up. How many times have we seen Nasri burst into the penalty area this season to trap a through ball and get his shot away? Answer: plenty. And hopefully we'll see him do it a lot more in the second half of the season, because it's a fine sight to behold. 

Honorable mentions: Chung-Yong Lee (Bolton), Anderson (Man Utd), Stewart Downing (Villa), Phil Bardsley (Sunderland), Robert Huth (Stoke), Kevin Nolan (Newcastle) and Seamus Coleman (Everton) - as well as Gareth Bale (Tottenham), Nani (Man Utd) and Nemanja Vidic (Man Utd) who, while they've kicked on slightly, do not make this list on account of being so good last season too.