I’ll swap you Titus Bramble for Wayne Rooney. That kind of offer might have Sir Alex Ferguson choking on his chewing gum, but it’s a thoroughly realistic proposition in the world of football sticker collecting. This is a world where there are few things more thrilling than tearing open a paper packet to reveal Dirk Kuyt, Emile Heskey, Steve Bruce, two Stoke City defenders and a shiny Aston Villa badge…

Read the full story in the September 2011 issue of FourFourTwo.

Football FourFourTwo

The greatest goal I’ve ever seen is one that I can only barely remember. It was scored almost 25 years ago, and I’ve never seen a replay, despite the fact that it happened in an English First Division match. This was the 1987/88 season, and football coverage – even involving top flight teams – was relatively sparse. The goal isn’t on YouTube, and various requests via Twitter and the like have drawn a blank. There was no end of season highlights video for 87/88, and there’s a possibility the footage no longer exists. So my recollection of the goal is pieced together from fragmented and unreliable memories, and is quite possibly overblown and inaccurate.

But that doesn’t matter. In a way, I’m glad I’ve never seen video footage, and I’ve been allowed to develop my own rose-tinted memory, elevating the goal to a kind of mythical status in my mind. In that respect, Paul ‘Gazza’ Gascoigne’s goal for Newcastle United against Chelsea on 27 February 1988 was absolutely perfect.

This is how I remember it, and I had a fantastic view: It was the day before my 14th birthday, and as a treat my uncle had upgraded me from my usual standing terrace to the paddock seating running under the East Stand at St James’ Park, right at the lip of the pitch. Gascoigne would only have been 20 then, still a slip of a lad, but emerging as the undoubted star of this Newcastle team – and arguably of this league. Hair gel, earring and sunbed tan, Gazza orchestrated games with a toothy grin and an almost supernatural level of skill.

Newcastle had imported English football’s first Brazilian – Mirandinha – to add flair to the team, but the man from Palmeiras wasn’t a patch on the boy from Dunston. Glenn Roeder was club captain, and Paul Goddard the centre forward, but Chelsea’s team, with the likes of Steve Clarke, Pat Nevin and Kerry Dixon, were firm favourites in this match.

The goal, I think, was perfect. Gazza picked up the ball near the halfway line, not far from my paddock seat. Displaying his uncanny close control and balance, he shimmied and swayed through the Chelsea defence, driving towards the famous Gallowgate end. As he shaped to shoot he was maybe 25 yards out. Let’s say 30. I imagine he hit it with his right foot – his left wasn’t quite as good. But I remember that it pinged like a ballbearing from a pinball flipper, and flew past Chelsea keeper Roger Freestone into the top corner of the goal. The top left corner, I’m pretty sure, but what made the goal extra special was that the ball got stuck in the stanchion, lodged firmly in the metal loop at the top of the goalpost. Whenever such a rarity occurred it was a real delight, and when goalposts were redesigned and the loop was removed, football lost something special.

But what a goal. What a perfect goal. Even better than his acclaimed strike against Crystal Palace a few weeks earlier that is preserved on YouTube. Of course I was out of my seat, surrounded by a surge of noisy celebration. Gazza ran to the Gallowgate end, arms aloft, grinning, always grinning. Someone had to shin up the goalpost to get the ball down. The match restarted, Newcastle won 3-1, Mirandinha scored the other two, and Gary Kelly saved two penalties, but all anyone was talking about was that perfect goal.

A few weeks later I was walking along a towpath in Rothbury – the scene of Raoul Moat’s last stand. And there was Gazza, sans chicken and can of lager, but holding a fishing rod, all alone and setting up for a day by the river. ‘Alright Gazza?’ I said. ‘Alright son?’ said Gazza, and he stood grinning at me, expecting me, I suppose, to say something else. But I didn’t. I just smiled and walked on.

That summer Gazza signed for Tottenham Hotspur. Then came Italia 90 and superstardom, and then the devastating FA Cup Final injury that I think he never fully recovered from. So many memories, though. No doubt someone will post a link to a YouTube video, and say the ball actually ended up in the top right corner, or Gazza was only 18 yards out, or – in all likelihood – the ball didn’t really get stuck in the stanchion. I don’t care. It was the greatest goal I’ve ever seen and I’ll never properly forget it.

A version of this post appears at Sabotage Times

Football Sabotage Times

Last week’s announcement that Spotify is to restrict its free service elicited much handwringing and no little anger from folks who think unlimited access to a world of music isn’t worth a fiver a month. Each to their own, but for many music fans Spotify now fulfils pretty much all of their music needs, especially now that the service allows you to store music offline, and add your own music files to supplement its catalogue…

Read the full post at Bitterwallet.

Consumer Bitterwallet

We expected football and beer, but few of us were expecting sunshine. As it was, the morning of the inaugural Northern League Day brought weather more suited to mid-August than early April. So it was with something of a spring in my step that I headed out off to Kingsley Park to take in Ryton vs Billingham Synthonia.

Meeting up with a couple of like-minded souls at Newcastle Central Station, we jumped on a train and headed along the Tyne Valley to Wylam and the marvellous Boathouse pub. Already assembled in the beer garden were 20 or so football bloggers and tweeters, most only known to each other via Twitter usernames and avatars. Cue some awkward introductions (particularly for those of us with ‘ironic’ usernames that sound faintly ridiculous when spoken out loud…).

So onward to Kingsley Park, which, slightly confusingly, is not in Ryton but in Crawcrook. I bought a match programme for the first time in probably 20-odd years and headed into the clubhouse for a pint, buying some raffle tickets and entering the Grand National sweep on the way in (I didn’t win). Then it was out onto the terrace, paying just a fiver for admission. (By comparison, the cheap seats for NUFC vs MUFC are currently on sale at £42.)

And what a cracking little ground Kingsley Park is, bathed in sunshine and offering views across the Tyne Valley. The only disappointment was that by the time I got to the catering shed they were all out of pies. (By all accounts they were lovely.) In front of us, Ryton were being put through perhaps the most strenuous warm-up session I’ve ever seen. And it seemed to pay off.

Ryton have had a tough season, losing their management team and almost their entire playing squad after promised sponsorship money failed to turn up. Before today they’d won only one league match out of 40 – away to Sunderland RCA. The programme showed that the club had used almost 60 players this season. Unfortunately for Ryton, a big letter ‘R’ had already been written next to their name in the league table. But they’d managed to draw their last two games, so by their standards were actually on a decent run.

It was the underdogs Ryton who took the lead, only for Synners to peg them back, the first half ending 1-1. Half-time hospitality meant I was still in the clubhouse when the second half kicked off, and Ryton quickly raced to a 3-1 lead. Three became four, and four became five, as amazingly this team that had not won at home all season took a 5-1 lead. Chris McCabe scored a hat-trick in what was apparently his first start for Ryton. But Synners didn’t give up, managing to pull back two more goals – James Magowan scoring the second hat-trick of the day. The match ended 5-3, Ryton’s first home win of the season.

And so ended a thoroughly enjoyable day (give or take several post-match cold drinks). Football, beer, sunshine, eight goals, two hat-tricks… Let’s hope Northern League Day becomes a regular event. It was great to enjoy football without all the commercial nonsense that surrounds it, and to meet and chat with a top bunch of people.

Sometimes you need to step away from the Premier League to really appreciate what football is all about. I, for one, will return to the Northern League, and to Ryton FC, for more proper football.

Read more about Northern League Day

A bit by me: What has the Northern League done for us: Newcastle United

Football