THERE have been plenty of football songs that have made me chuckle over the years.
I remember a former colleague of mine in Wales telling me the reason he liked travelling to see the mighty Bristol Rovers was that not only did we have some decent chants, but we were one of the only clubs in the league where you could actually NOTICE the accent they were sung in.
"Oirene, goodnight Oirene", "Drink up thee cider", "I casn't read, I casn't write but that don't really matter, cos I come down from Gloucestershire and I can drive a tractor".
The old Tote End at Eastville, where I began my long and agony-filled life as a Gashead, used to belt out such ditties with great gusto.
In comparison, the Blackthorne End at the Mem is practically "debonaire" in its choice of song.
But the two I loved of recent times were "Ooo-arr, he's a Latvian" (sung to the tune Go West and directed towards our former Latvian international midfielder Vitas Astafyevs) and "We've got Steve Elliott, he's f***ing brilliant" (ta-ra-ra, boom teeay), belted out with gusto in honour of our former stalwart centre half and captain.
I mention this because the aforementioned Mr Elliott, all 6ft 4 or so of him, returns to the Mem with his current team Cheltenham.
And he is bound to get a rousing reception.
This bloke was a giant for the Gas in our promotion year, and played a vital part in our all-too-brief League One stay, particularly when he returned to steady the ship after a number of hammerings during the 2009-10 season.
Unfortunately the club and then boss Paul Trollope decided to part company with him at the end of that season, and our defence hasn't been the same since.
Of course, Steve's quite a bit older now and never was the quickest, and no doubt he was costing us quite a bundle, too.
But his experience and knowhow have proved pretty much irreplaceable since his departure and I just hope he doesn't come back to haunt us.
Steve can be assured of one thing, though. In this age of money-grabbing stars who thumb their noses at the very mention of loyalty, he won't get one adverse reaction to his return to the Mem.
In fact, it is already being discussed how best to greet him.
It will probably go along the lines of... "You've got Steve Elliott, he's f***ing brilliant".
Friday, 30 September 2011
Tuesday, 27 September 2011
Fantasy football
IT'S a tough job this management lark.
Highly unpredictable.
And just when you think things are going right, something comes along to knock you on your backside.
I've every sympathy, Paul Buckle.
Mind you, I'm not having to give any team talks, sort out tactics or anything like that.
Just like millions of others up and down the country, I am talking about Fantasy Football. I'm given a massive wad of cash (more than Mr Buckle, certainly) and can pick and choose between the best talent in the country.
There's no bartering for players, thinking you've been successful in signing someone only to see them join another club, and no fall-outs with agents.
Simple.
Or not.
Until now I have been flying at the top of the two leagues I've entered, staring down at my opponents and thumbing my nose.
I'm the kiddie with the best football knowledge, my sixth-sense has been phenomenal, it's no contest from now until the end of the season.
Wrong.
I was in the office, doing a jig to celebrate the fact I had taking the plunge and selected Fernando Torres as my captain.
Yes, that's the one, the Spanish striker who had scored just two goals since joining Chelsea from Liverpool for the small matter of £50m.
And hasn't been able to hit a cow's arse with a banjo since.
I just had a feeling, though, that he would do something special at home to Swansea on Saturday and he certainly did.
Early on he scored. That's double points.
In your face, all those who didn't register he was about to embark on a scoring streak.
Nothing can go wrong now.
But hold on. The Sky announcer is talking about a sending off at Stamford Bridge.
And, would you believe it, it's Torres, my captain, sent down the tunnel.
There is laughter all around me and I am forced to hide behind my computer.
Fortunately, where things have gone Pete Tong for me, Mr Buckle seems to have got it right. In real life, Rovers are 1-0 up at league leaders Morecambe thanks to our on-loan central defender Cian Bolger.
It lifts my spirits a bit.
Unfortunately midway through the afternoon they are sinking again.
We're 2-1 down.
Not only that but I have now established that another of my three-pronged fantasy strike force Bobby Zamora isn't even PLAYING for Fulham. Nil points.
Bugger.
I have to bury my growing disappointment by taking a lift up to the ninth floor so that I can walk out onto the balcony for a cigarette.
I know now how that ex-Argentina manager Cesar Minotti feels. Remember the guy? Used to stand on the touchline chain smoking during the 1978 World Cup.
I settle for one roll up.
And return to my desk.
Not long to go in the afternoon, and I'm feeling like the new Plymouth Argyle signing who's opened his first wage packet. A day full of promise about to be ruined.
Passing the TV I take a glance at the screen.
What the hell? Morecambe 2, Bristol Rovers 3!
How did that happen? I was only out of the room five minutes.
Suddenly life looks so much brighter, for me, for Paul Buckle, and for Gasheads all over the world.
It's a nervous wait for the final score to be confirmed.
But there it is. Classic goals from Scott McGleish and Joe Anyinsah have turned it around, even though Morecambe hit the post and missed an open goal in injury time.
Get in!
Last week, our manager Mr Buckle was being accused of everything under the sun.
This week he is a tactical genius.
Swings and Roundabouts.
Meanwhile, the final blow to my fantasy team.
Sir Alex Ferguson has LEFT OUT Wayne Rooney, my third striker, the lynchpin of my team with two hat-tricks in his last three games.
In one desperate afternoon, my team has sunk from top to eighth in the division.
Rovers, meanwhile, have gone from 16th to 12th and just a couple of points off a play-off spot.
The football Gods are laughing at me.
And so are my mates.
But despite my desperate days as a manager, I can't help walking around with a big smile on my face.
Highly unpredictable.
And just when you think things are going right, something comes along to knock you on your backside.
I've every sympathy, Paul Buckle.
Mind you, I'm not having to give any team talks, sort out tactics or anything like that.
Just like millions of others up and down the country, I am talking about Fantasy Football. I'm given a massive wad of cash (more than Mr Buckle, certainly) and can pick and choose between the best talent in the country.
There's no bartering for players, thinking you've been successful in signing someone only to see them join another club, and no fall-outs with agents.
Simple.
Or not.
Until now I have been flying at the top of the two leagues I've entered, staring down at my opponents and thumbing my nose.
I'm the kiddie with the best football knowledge, my sixth-sense has been phenomenal, it's no contest from now until the end of the season.
Wrong.
I was in the office, doing a jig to celebrate the fact I had taking the plunge and selected Fernando Torres as my captain.
Yes, that's the one, the Spanish striker who had scored just two goals since joining Chelsea from Liverpool for the small matter of £50m.
And hasn't been able to hit a cow's arse with a banjo since.
I just had a feeling, though, that he would do something special at home to Swansea on Saturday and he certainly did.
Early on he scored. That's double points.
In your face, all those who didn't register he was about to embark on a scoring streak.
Nothing can go wrong now.
But hold on. The Sky announcer is talking about a sending off at Stamford Bridge.
And, would you believe it, it's Torres, my captain, sent down the tunnel.
There is laughter all around me and I am forced to hide behind my computer.
Fortunately, where things have gone Pete Tong for me, Mr Buckle seems to have got it right. In real life, Rovers are 1-0 up at league leaders Morecambe thanks to our on-loan central defender Cian Bolger.
It lifts my spirits a bit.
Unfortunately midway through the afternoon they are sinking again.
We're 2-1 down.
Not only that but I have now established that another of my three-pronged fantasy strike force Bobby Zamora isn't even PLAYING for Fulham. Nil points.
Bugger.
I have to bury my growing disappointment by taking a lift up to the ninth floor so that I can walk out onto the balcony for a cigarette.
I know now how that ex-Argentina manager Cesar Minotti feels. Remember the guy? Used to stand on the touchline chain smoking during the 1978 World Cup.
I settle for one roll up.
And return to my desk.
Not long to go in the afternoon, and I'm feeling like the new Plymouth Argyle signing who's opened his first wage packet. A day full of promise about to be ruined.
Passing the TV I take a glance at the screen.
What the hell? Morecambe 2, Bristol Rovers 3!
How did that happen? I was only out of the room five minutes.
Suddenly life looks so much brighter, for me, for Paul Buckle, and for Gasheads all over the world.
It's a nervous wait for the final score to be confirmed.
But there it is. Classic goals from Scott McGleish and Joe Anyinsah have turned it around, even though Morecambe hit the post and missed an open goal in injury time.
Get in!
Last week, our manager Mr Buckle was being accused of everything under the sun.
This week he is a tactical genius.
Swings and Roundabouts.
Meanwhile, the final blow to my fantasy team.
Sir Alex Ferguson has LEFT OUT Wayne Rooney, my third striker, the lynchpin of my team with two hat-tricks in his last three games.
In one desperate afternoon, my team has sunk from top to eighth in the division.
Rovers, meanwhile, have gone from 16th to 12th and just a couple of points off a play-off spot.
The football Gods are laughing at me.
And so are my mates.
But despite my desperate days as a manager, I can't help walking around with a big smile on my face.
Thursday, 22 September 2011
Singing the Boos
IT appears Paul Buckle's halo has slipped.
What is more, the manager seems to have started sprouting a pair of horns.
That is the impression you get from reading all the recent fans' criticism of the head honcho, who has only been in the Bristol Rovers hot seat for four months.
The argument goes that he has fallen out with the players; that he wants to play kick-and-rush 'hoofball', that the players he has bought to the club aren't a patch on the ones that have departed.
And that if the trend continues he should be told 'thanks, but no thanks' - and shown the door.
Well, talk about knee-jerk reactions - and Buckle does in some of his recent interviews.
At the moment our record reads Played 9, won 3, drawn 3, lost 3. Our position of 16th in the table isn't great, mainly down to another poor goal difference, but it's hardly relegation form.
We only have to look at what is happening up the road at Hereford to see what that looks like and at least we haven't lost 6-1 at home – yet.
I can see a worrying trend developing here.
So sold on success were we Gasheads - ever since the promotion party of four years ago - that we now think we have a divine right to it.
We have been told various things which have only gone to increase our optimism - and the more upbeat you feel, the further down you go when the crash comes along.
If I have one argument with Mr Buckle's approach, it is the reaction he had to the booing that accompanied our disappointing 1-0 home defeat to mighty Aldershot last weekend.
He rounded on supporters that he had been praising to the hilt since arriving at the Mem and said they should lower there expectations.
Well, hang on, Mr Buckle, but it was YOU who told us how big this club was; YOU who told us that we should expect promotion and nothing less; YOU who built us up with promises of attacking, free-flowing football played with wingers in pre-season.
YOU cannot now tell us we shouldn't expect certain things, or you're actually leaving yourself open to accusations of hypocracy.
Rovers fans are pretty loyal, but they expect some return for their loyalty.
I think, though, the last season was so bad that we have forgotten we also need to show a bit of patience.
I recall the beginning of our promotion season, in particular, when the booing from the terraces after a couple of performances was building to a clamour for Paul Trollope to be replaced.
No one, now, would own up to being one of those who wanted him to go - particularly after the fantastic run we had at the end of that season, culminating in a JPT final at the Millennium Stadium and a fantastic play-off victory over Shrewsbury.
And I think we should all get behind Buckle, too.
Otherwise we are in danger of being one of those clubs that switch managers every time the wind changes.
And we all know what happens to them. They disappear down, down and down until they drop out of the bottom of the league.
Unless we suddenly find ourselves in such dire straits there is no other option, we should be taking the pressure off our manager and his players, and getting behind them.
It normally takes two years for a manager to put his stamp on a new club - but with all the signings we made in the summer some believe we should be seeing a miracle transformation.
Unfortunately, football doesn't work like that.
Ask Robert Mancini and his predecessor Mark Hughes about their early days at the helm of Manchester City after the big Sheikh up.
One thing's for sure - it never gets easier for a Gashead.
We're travelling to the home of flying Morecambe on Saturday - and they beat big-spending Crawley 6-0 there a couple of weeks ago.
What is more, the manager seems to have started sprouting a pair of horns.
That is the impression you get from reading all the recent fans' criticism of the head honcho, who has only been in the Bristol Rovers hot seat for four months.
The argument goes that he has fallen out with the players; that he wants to play kick-and-rush 'hoofball', that the players he has bought to the club aren't a patch on the ones that have departed.
And that if the trend continues he should be told 'thanks, but no thanks' - and shown the door.
Well, talk about knee-jerk reactions - and Buckle does in some of his recent interviews.
At the moment our record reads Played 9, won 3, drawn 3, lost 3. Our position of 16th in the table isn't great, mainly down to another poor goal difference, but it's hardly relegation form.
We only have to look at what is happening up the road at Hereford to see what that looks like and at least we haven't lost 6-1 at home – yet.
I can see a worrying trend developing here.
So sold on success were we Gasheads - ever since the promotion party of four years ago - that we now think we have a divine right to it.
We have been told various things which have only gone to increase our optimism - and the more upbeat you feel, the further down you go when the crash comes along.
If I have one argument with Mr Buckle's approach, it is the reaction he had to the booing that accompanied our disappointing 1-0 home defeat to mighty Aldershot last weekend.
He rounded on supporters that he had been praising to the hilt since arriving at the Mem and said they should lower there expectations.
Well, hang on, Mr Buckle, but it was YOU who told us how big this club was; YOU who told us that we should expect promotion and nothing less; YOU who built us up with promises of attacking, free-flowing football played with wingers in pre-season.
YOU cannot now tell us we shouldn't expect certain things, or you're actually leaving yourself open to accusations of hypocracy.
Rovers fans are pretty loyal, but they expect some return for their loyalty.
I think, though, the last season was so bad that we have forgotten we also need to show a bit of patience.
I recall the beginning of our promotion season, in particular, when the booing from the terraces after a couple of performances was building to a clamour for Paul Trollope to be replaced.
No one, now, would own up to being one of those who wanted him to go - particularly after the fantastic run we had at the end of that season, culminating in a JPT final at the Millennium Stadium and a fantastic play-off victory over Shrewsbury.
And I think we should all get behind Buckle, too.
Otherwise we are in danger of being one of those clubs that switch managers every time the wind changes.
And we all know what happens to them. They disappear down, down and down until they drop out of the bottom of the league.
Unless we suddenly find ourselves in such dire straits there is no other option, we should be taking the pressure off our manager and his players, and getting behind them.
It normally takes two years for a manager to put his stamp on a new club - but with all the signings we made in the summer some believe we should be seeing a miracle transformation.
Unfortunately, football doesn't work like that.
Ask Robert Mancini and his predecessor Mark Hughes about their early days at the helm of Manchester City after the big Sheikh up.
One thing's for sure - it never gets easier for a Gashead.
We're travelling to the home of flying Morecambe on Saturday - and they beat big-spending Crawley 6-0 there a couple of weeks ago.
Wednesday, 14 September 2011
Deja Shrew
WITH seconds remaining and my beloved Gas hanging on to a slender lead, Shrewsbury made a last-ditch attempt to save the game.
Having won a corner, their goalkeeper sprinted 80 yards up the pitch to try and add weight to their attack.
And, exhausted from his exertions, promptly fell over.
A Rovers player ran away with the ball and reached the halfway line with only one defender having any chance of getting back to cover for his prostrate keeper.
Wembley 2007? Our dramatic 3-1 play-off success against the Shrews that took us into League 1?
Not a bit of it.
This was Bristol Rovers v Shrewsbury 2011. History repeating itself.
Unfortunately the player in possession wasn't the scurrying Sammy Igoe but young Elliot Richards, who had received a nasty knock on the head in a collision with the giant Shrewsbury defender Jermaine Grandison moments earlier.
And rather than roll the ball 50 yards into the empty net he tried to pass, managing to find the only opposition player in the same postcode as him.
Perhaps he was still seeing double.
The whistle blew and Rovers had hung on for a 1-0 win against a team who were sitting pretty in the automatic promotion places after the first seven games of the season.
It wasn't particularly pretty, but after a run of five league and cup games without a win it came as manna from heaven for the 5,000 Gasheads who turned up at the Mem.
And, to be fair, there does seem to be a spirit about this Rovers team that was sadly lacking in our relegation fight the year before.
Though we were beaten hands down if the possession stats are to be believed, they only tell half the story.
Despite putting out a side which seemed rather limited in options, particularly on the wings with Mustapha Carayol and Joe Anyinsah both left on the bench, Paul Buckle's side managed to create a series of good chances which, on another day, might have resulted in a more comfortable win.
As it was they settled for a screaming volley from Chris Zebroski to seal the points.
And though they played some nice one-touch passing football Shrewsbury rarely managed to penetrate a backline in which on-loan centre back Cian Bolger and defender Danny Woodards were outstanding.
On the one occasion, four minutes into injury time, that Shrewsbury conjured up a real shot of note, a tremendous 25-yard effort from Lionel Ainsworth was brilliantly tipped around the post by keeper Scott Bevan.
Cue the chaos that came from the resulting corner.
A good game and a good three points.
Now for Aldershot on Saturday...
Having won a corner, their goalkeeper sprinted 80 yards up the pitch to try and add weight to their attack.
And, exhausted from his exertions, promptly fell over.
A Rovers player ran away with the ball and reached the halfway line with only one defender having any chance of getting back to cover for his prostrate keeper.
Wembley 2007? Our dramatic 3-1 play-off success against the Shrews that took us into League 1?
Not a bit of it.
This was Bristol Rovers v Shrewsbury 2011. History repeating itself.
Unfortunately the player in possession wasn't the scurrying Sammy Igoe but young Elliot Richards, who had received a nasty knock on the head in a collision with the giant Shrewsbury defender Jermaine Grandison moments earlier.
And rather than roll the ball 50 yards into the empty net he tried to pass, managing to find the only opposition player in the same postcode as him.
Perhaps he was still seeing double.
The whistle blew and Rovers had hung on for a 1-0 win against a team who were sitting pretty in the automatic promotion places after the first seven games of the season.
It wasn't particularly pretty, but after a run of five league and cup games without a win it came as manna from heaven for the 5,000 Gasheads who turned up at the Mem.
And, to be fair, there does seem to be a spirit about this Rovers team that was sadly lacking in our relegation fight the year before.
Though we were beaten hands down if the possession stats are to be believed, they only tell half the story.
Despite putting out a side which seemed rather limited in options, particularly on the wings with Mustapha Carayol and Joe Anyinsah both left on the bench, Paul Buckle's side managed to create a series of good chances which, on another day, might have resulted in a more comfortable win.
As it was they settled for a screaming volley from Chris Zebroski to seal the points.
And though they played some nice one-touch passing football Shrewsbury rarely managed to penetrate a backline in which on-loan centre back Cian Bolger and defender Danny Woodards were outstanding.
On the one occasion, four minutes into injury time, that Shrewsbury conjured up a real shot of note, a tremendous 25-yard effort from Lionel Ainsworth was brilliantly tipped around the post by keeper Scott Bevan.
Cue the chaos that came from the resulting corner.
A good game and a good three points.
Now for Aldershot on Saturday...
Tuesday, 13 September 2011
Mr Brightside
SOME people may think I've given up on this blogging lark, but the truth is my mind has been a bit preoccupied of late.
Having lost my job with the sinking of the good ship News of the World, I have now had to contend with my wife being made redundant.
With luck like that, it's not hard to believe that I also happen to be a lifelong Bristol Rovers fan. It gears you up to stare adversity in the face, take life's left hooks on the chin and somehow bounce back for more.
I mean, are any of our loyal supporters billionaires? Not that I've heard.
Where is our Jack Walker, our Sir Elton John or our Dave Whelan?
All these years of scraping the bottom of life's football barrel and I've yet to cross paths with one single super-rich Gashead.
I guess it's that feeling that we're all in the same rocky boat that somehow keeps us going.
And I have a positive thought amid the doom and gloom. It's the kind of thing that inspired Monty Python to write their old classic "Always Look On The Bright Side of Life".
Amid all the bad luck, I am a great believer that there is always something to balance things up - albeit briefly.
I may not have expected to find my personal circumstances in such dire straits but, let's face it, as a fervent cricket fan I never believed I would see the day when England were the No.1 team in the world.
Compared to that Bristol Rovers getting promoted, or at least achieving a play-off spot, shouldn't be beyond the realms of possibility.
Admittedly, the great Paul Buckle era hasn't begun with an almighty bang. As firework displays go it has been more like a couple of fizzles and pops with the odd catherine wheel flying off the nearest wooden poll and smashing you in the gut. Losing 4-1 at Crawley springs to mind.
But looking at the record it still reads won 2, drawn 3, lost 2. Seven games into the season, but with all the cup activity, too, you could be forgiven for thinking it's been a lot longer.
Now, two home games coming up - Shrewsbury tonight and Aldershot on Saturday. After those things could look a whole lot rosier or a great deal grimmer.
Questions are already being asked of Mr Buckle - his man-management of the goal-every-four-game striker Jo Kuffour and his decision to leave out and drop certain players.
But I'm not ready to turn on him yet. Everything he has done since he has arrived has involved getting rid of players who were a disgrace to the shirt last season and trying to engender a new team spirit, work ethic and a loyalty to the badge.
Things are bound to take time when you make such wholesale changes, and he deserves a period of grace just for the positive attitude he has brought to the club. A few bad results shouldn't make us feel that the whole thing has gone Pete Tong again.
So let's stick with the players and Buckle, give them our support without howling and groaning every step of the way.
There is a long way to go and, as always with the Gas, it will be a rollercoaster ride.
I may be penniless and homeless by the end of the season, but celebrating promotion would still give me a warm feeling as I sit under Broadmead underpass in my cardboard box.
Having lost my job with the sinking of the good ship News of the World, I have now had to contend with my wife being made redundant.
With luck like that, it's not hard to believe that I also happen to be a lifelong Bristol Rovers fan. It gears you up to stare adversity in the face, take life's left hooks on the chin and somehow bounce back for more.
I mean, are any of our loyal supporters billionaires? Not that I've heard.
Where is our Jack Walker, our Sir Elton John or our Dave Whelan?
All these years of scraping the bottom of life's football barrel and I've yet to cross paths with one single super-rich Gashead.
I guess it's that feeling that we're all in the same rocky boat that somehow keeps us going.
And I have a positive thought amid the doom and gloom. It's the kind of thing that inspired Monty Python to write their old classic "Always Look On The Bright Side of Life".
Amid all the bad luck, I am a great believer that there is always something to balance things up - albeit briefly.
I may not have expected to find my personal circumstances in such dire straits but, let's face it, as a fervent cricket fan I never believed I would see the day when England were the No.1 team in the world.
Compared to that Bristol Rovers getting promoted, or at least achieving a play-off spot, shouldn't be beyond the realms of possibility.
Admittedly, the great Paul Buckle era hasn't begun with an almighty bang. As firework displays go it has been more like a couple of fizzles and pops with the odd catherine wheel flying off the nearest wooden poll and smashing you in the gut. Losing 4-1 at Crawley springs to mind.
But looking at the record it still reads won 2, drawn 3, lost 2. Seven games into the season, but with all the cup activity, too, you could be forgiven for thinking it's been a lot longer.
Now, two home games coming up - Shrewsbury tonight and Aldershot on Saturday. After those things could look a whole lot rosier or a great deal grimmer.
Questions are already being asked of Mr Buckle - his man-management of the goal-every-four-game striker Jo Kuffour and his decision to leave out and drop certain players.
But I'm not ready to turn on him yet. Everything he has done since he has arrived has involved getting rid of players who were a disgrace to the shirt last season and trying to engender a new team spirit, work ethic and a loyalty to the badge.
Things are bound to take time when you make such wholesale changes, and he deserves a period of grace just for the positive attitude he has brought to the club. A few bad results shouldn't make us feel that the whole thing has gone Pete Tong again.
So let's stick with the players and Buckle, give them our support without howling and groaning every step of the way.
There is a long way to go and, as always with the Gas, it will be a rollercoaster ride.
I may be penniless and homeless by the end of the season, but celebrating promotion would still give me a warm feeling as I sit under Broadmead underpass in my cardboard box.
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