Sweet FA

Eni – One Who Had A Heart

Congratulations to Chelsea striker Eni Aluko, whose England career was ruined & personal integrity put under intense media scrutiny after allegations about  her ex England coach Mark Sampson became public knowledge. Finally, after two FA led inquiries concluded there was no case to answer for Sampson, she has been vindicated. Comments to & about Eni & Chelsea colleague Drew Spence have finally been acknowledged as irrefutably made. Both have received a long overdue apology.

The FA needs to take a long, hard look at itself over this one. I doubt it will, given its long history of generally overpowering arrogance, corruption & breathtaking hypocrisy. The case is fascinating because FA kangaroo courts are famous within football. Players & managers facing disciplinary charges are inevitably found guilty. Members of the Monmouth Rebellion had more chance of being cleared by Judge Jeffreys than a footballer generally has at a standard FA tribunal. All the more despicable then that Aluko, an innocent party here, had to endure months of mud-slinging while two successive FA led inquiries falsely exonerated their employee & members of his coaching staff, one of whom apparently once spoke to the Nigerian born striker in a mock Caribbean accent. It is 2017 by the way. God preserve us.

Your heart sinks to think this crass nonsense lingers on from my youth, where it was commonplace. Even then, it seemed to be largely the preserve of  generations before my own, the sort of nitwits that either thought Alf Garnett was a political visionary rather than a comic grotesque, or, as appears the case here, that this kind of behaviour merely represented heavy-handed ‘Love Thy Neighbour’ style banter.

At school 40 years ago there were a couple of boys on schoolboy forms with Southampton. One, Colin, got disenchanted with the prospect of making football a career quite quickly, & told me of the casual racism of senior players at the club towards one of the apprentices, a lad called Tony Sealy. He went on to have a decent & lengthy journeyman career, stopping off after Southampton at QPR, Crystal Palace & Leicester among others. Suffice to say that the first teamers he listed were household names. All were internationals. Apparently, Sealy was routinely called Kunta Kinte after the main character, a slave, in Alex Haley’s ‘Roots’ , then a popular TV series. If it upset a 15-year-old white boy to see grown men conduct themselves in this way God alone knows what Tony Sealy must have thought, although doubtless it  helped prepare him for sustained barrages of abuse from terrace cretins over the following decade. If a player blows the whistle on examples of this stupidity persisting now, then they surely deserve a more sympathetic & compassionate response from the authorities than Eni Aluko has received?

Almost as much to blame as the FA are certain sections of our beloved media, not to mention former England goalkeeper David James, whose idiotic tweet blasting Aluko & demeaning her personally & professionally has long been deleted. Brave boy the recently bankrupted Mr James, whose head would appear to be as empty as his piggy bank. We have also had to endure the unedifying spectacle of relentless self publicist & Murdoch lickspittle Matthew Syed rushing to defend Mr Sampson, assuring us we should not assume someone is a racist based on a few ill-chosen words. Hanging out with Robbie Savage & Andrew Flintoff (the sporting world’s very own ‘Dumb & Dumber’) has clearly dulled the slimy ex wiff waff choker’s memory & intellectual capacities somewhat. He will happily assume the worst of anyone at Chelsea & fit the evidence around it to prove his jaundiced case, rabidly hanging John Terry’s dirty linen out behind the Murdoch paywalls for years, not to mention fanning the flames of Chelsea hate happily on Twitter. Now he thinks social media has dealt a cruelly unfair hand to Mr Sampson. If only everyone else would just shut up & let Matthew Syed tell them what has happened. A more cynical person than myself might wonder if Syed might leap as voraciously to Sampson’s defence were he a Chelsea coach. Or dismiss the evidence presented by the players were the victims from the Arsenal rather than Chelsea Ladies team. Happily I am not that cynical. Dear old Matthew. The man who put the pong in ping-pong.

In 2012 Terry was famously cleared of a charge of racial abuse in a court of law. The evidence against Terry was limited to YouTube footage, which clearly failed to undermine his case that he HAD used abusive language towards opponent Anton Ferdinand (which had been reciprocated) but not in the context presented by the prosecution. It was an ugly & unpleasant incident which did nobody any favours, not least John Terry, or indeed football itself. Having been cleared in court Terry was swiftly found guilty by the same authority which has been furiously defending Sampson & belittling Aluko. Rumour has it that Stephen Fry reprised his role of General Melchett at the Terry hearing, donning a black cap,summoning a firing squad & also finding the accused guilty of murdering his pigeon in the trenches during World War 1. The Independent, edited by a Spurs supporter, gleefully led with a ‘Captain Leader Racist’ headline the following day. All off the back of an inquiry which had no more evidence than that presented in court. Terry was simply hung out to dry. Contrast this with Sampson cowering under FA petticoats for months, clutching Greg Clarke’s glib 14 word email dismissal of Aluko’s case for comfort. Lest I be accused of FA/Syed style hypocrisy I would simply say that we have never heard any intimation from the many black players that John Terry has played alongside that he has betrayed racist beliefs. Equally, he cooperated with the authorities & freely admitted using obscenities in the heat of the moment, not engaging in off the cuff, insidious banter away from a high-octane footballing encounter. Nobody else came forward with compelling evidence, nor indeed ANY evidence, to contradict his own version of what happened at Loftus Road that day. Sampson has flatly denied all allegations about himself from day one.

As to whether Mark Sampson is a racist, how the hell should I know?  It is likely he is prone to the same sort of laddish, locker room buffoonery that often prompts stupidity among sportsmen, & that John Terry has also fallen prey to far too many times during his career. Consequently, Sampson’s behaviour has likely been more idiotic & insanely insensitive  than malicious, a point repeatedly made by Eni Aluko herself throughout this sorry saga. Football is a world where it is possible to stay a schoolboy until middle age, possibly even longer if your name is Jose Mourinho. What the Aluko case proves is that it should no longer be a world  governed by an authority picking & choosing when to clamp down on allegations of racism depending on how it makes them look. Nor do we need agenda driven hacks & trolls choosing sides seemingly dependent on whether the alleged perpetrators or victims are wearing Chelsea blue or opposition colours.

Hopefully, Eni Aluko can return to the England fold & add to her 102 caps. Count them David James, looks like she CAN play a bit! We should all raise a glass to her anyway as she has made one invaluable, emphatic point on the issue of racism that players, coaches, administrators & fans alike should all take some time to absorb.

It really is time we all grew up.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

To Be Fair

Stevie G reflecting the euphoria in the BT studio after Chelsea’s magnificent victory on Wednesday night.

There was so much to relish during the wonderful win in the Wanda Metropolitana this week, obvious highlights being Hazard’s long overdue emergence as a player of true greatness, Morata’s lovely headed equalizer & the brilliant last gasp winner that epitomized the  joyous harmony & fluency that ran through the team’s performance the entire match. All life affirming & tremendous stuff.

For me it was capped off beautifully by the presence of anti Chelsea sourpusses Steven Gerrard & Rio Ferdinand in the BT studios. It is of course traditional for both Sky & BT to fill their punditry seats with the expanding buttocks of ex pros with no love for Chelsea, nor indeed anyone but Liverpool, Man Utd  or Arsenal, but BT really pushed the boat out here, presumably because having finally found a former Blue to accompany them, in the shape of the living legend that is Sir Frank Lampard, they felt the need to tilt the balance firmly back in favour of the usual carping & sneering at the boys from the Bridge by sitting him next to two men who both have agendas against Chelsea that are well-known, deep-rooted & long term.

By full-time, however, they were left with no choice but to suck it up in front of the watching millions & give Chelsea props for a truly scintillating win. At least presenter & crisp thief Gary Lineker, the one time Spurs striker & full-time narcissist, had the grace to smile & pretend he was happy about it, & he genuinely seemed to have enjoyed the match. Frank remained remarkably restrained, but the fun for him, like all Chelsea fans, had been in watching the previous 90 minutes of effervescent splendour. It was excruciating watching the other two though. All the right platitudes were duly rolled out, but it clearly hurt. Gerrard seemed especially pained at having to give Chelsea any credit, appearing for all the world that as the words of praise were extracted from his traditionally joyless face he was fighting a severe dental abscess. He couldn’t have looked less happy if Lineker had ordered him to lick out the contents of Gary Glitter’s slop bucket.

A great end to a fantastic night.

Sock It To Em JT

In the early days of his extraordinary, magnificent Chelsea career there was a song about John Terry to the tune of Adam & The Ants ‘Prince Charming’ minus the original line ‘ridicule is nothing to be scared of.’ With the benefit of hindsight it should have been kept in. For when the collective braying scorn & rage of the rag bag of sneering pseuds, cynics, liars & hypocrites who feast on every setback & failing of the finest centre half of his generation finally abates, we will still be able to reflect on endless memories of his footballing brilliance.

We are all aware of his many on field achievements & the esteem he is held in  at the club for his support for, & mentoring of, players throughout the staff. There is a fabulous blog by former youth player Sam Tillen on the subject. Equally we are aware of his (admittedly not insubstantial) rap sheet. But how about the lives of some of the more vociferous JT/Chelsea haters & critics? An eclectic mix they make too, ranging from Prime Ministers to internet trolls all manipulated expertly from the movers & shakers within all sections of the modern media.

Come hither David Cameron, expressing his delight at JT being suspended from the Champions League Final in 2012.’He’s done some bad things’ he said to Angela Merkel. And doubtless he has, although unlike our Dave he hasn’t ever belonged to a club whose members smashed up restaurants, burned £50 notes in front of tramps & allegedly inserted their Old Etonian old chaps into the mouths of dead pigs. John Terry has had a life of wealth & privilege thrust upon him by virtue of his enormous talent rather than an accident of birth & this really sticks in the craw of so many of his detractors, brought up to consider themselves superior to the rest of us regardless of their own, frequently appalling, behaviour.

Some of our leading politicians have cause to thank him though. Step forward Tony Blair, sneaking into the Iraq inquiry in 2010 whilst JT’s alleged relationship with an ex colleague’s ex- girlfriend detained the attentions of our flawless media. Meanwhile, London’s then Mayor & our current Foreign Secretary, who has fathered a child outside of his marriage, & impregnated another woman on two occasions, was busy telling us that his private life was nobody’s business but his own. Up to a point I am inclined to agree with him but it seems odd that a footballer has an apparent duty to prevent his genitals from wandering & be a role model rather than those who govern our lives. JT lost the England captaincy over that spurious piece of tittle-tattle, whilst the next footballer engulfed in a lurid, super-injunction sex scandal became captain of the British Olympic team after the fact, presented as the ideal figure to mentor the younger players in that team. The fact he played for media darlings Manchester United is pure coincidence of course.

At the other end of the food chain from our unimpeachable leaders are the faceless spooks hiding at the end of every online John Terry article, dispensing their own distinctive brand of malignancy. You know the sort, all hiding behind names like ‘Chelski Oil Est.2003’ & ‘Sir Alex 13 Times’. Not only do you suspect they have never darkened the doors of their apparently ‘beloved’ Old Trafford or Anfield or Emirates, it seems probable they haven’t actually left the house since their corner shop stopped selling Roy ‘Chubby’ Brown videos & Linda Lusardi calendars. The internet came along at a perfect time for them, just as ITV cancelled ‘Baywatch’ & left them looking for something else to do with their right hands on Saturday teatimes. As a sad, single man myself I understand their pain but don’t respect the response. It’s the media leeches that fuel these people’s prejudices that are the real problem.

These include the slimy slap head mafia. Matt Dickinson & the ludicrous Duncan Castles are to the fore here, but both are outshone by the perennially insidious Matthew Syed. Matthew is apparently an expert on leadership with an impeccable moral compass, baffled by the loyalty of Chelsea fans to both John Terry & indeed to the club itself, being a fierce critic of the club’s owner & the role he played in the post Glasnost reshaping of the old Soviet Union. It is okay for Syed to shamelessly continue to take the Murdoch shilling by writing for ‘The Times’ of course. After all, this man has only owned newspapers that have continuously ruined lives by spreading malicious lies about innocent people for decades, gloried in the slaughter of Argentinian conscripts in the Falkland war, hacked into the phone of a dead schoolgirl & demeaned both the victims & survivors of the Hillsborough disaster. So Chelsea fans should rebel against JT & Abramovich, examine their consciences & walk away from Stamford Bridge forever, many of them having had an emotional commitment to the place since they were small children, but Syed’s commitment to earning a dollar holds no such constraints. He can address multi-national corporations (Goldman Sachs are  a LOVELY company aren’t they?) with his motivational speeches, safe in the knowledge that they are all squeaky clean & entirely free of corruption. He can stand for Parliament under the banner of New Labour, the brainchild of a leader we now know is a serial liar & probable war criminal. He needn’t apologise for any of this because he is cleverer & better than us, and not remotely an oily, hypocritical toad who wouldn’t know a scruple if it boned him up the arse. Let’s face it we are all compromised by the stranglehold the reptilian Murdoch has had on modern football but the gall of Syed is truly breathtaking. Karma has apparently intervened anyway, as he is now reduced to doing a podcast with fellow Terry critics Robbie Savage, the uber-cretin of modern punditry, & Andrew Flintoff, the worst England captain in Ashes history, a man whose own conduct has not always stood up to too much scrutiny.  I haven’t ever listened to it. Frankly I would rather pour vomit in my ear.

On Twitter we have the little Bullingdon club of minor celebrity, its chief enforcers being Alan Davies & the writer, broadcaster & bellend Danny Baker. Davies is a vociferous Chelsea hater when he isn’t biting tramp’s ears after a drinking binge (most of us make do with a bag of chips or a kebab Al) or cyber bullying people who think his mate Stephen Fry is a bit boring, or telling Liverpool fans that they should ‘get over’ Hillsborough & that their team’s refusal to play on the date of its anniversary gets on his tits. What a charmer. Baker’s obsessive Chelsea hatred has long crossed the borders of the truly pathetic, & examples of it would fill a very large & dull book. Many Chelsea fans backed his club Millwall’s campaign to stay at the New Den. Our Dan tells us he hopes Abramovich sells up & Chelsea ‘fuck off to Turkey.’ When Leicester won the league he hailed the blow against the fat cats & asked ‘can we have our ball back now?’ Our ball Mr Baker? With your Murdoch newspaper columns, radio stint under the leadership of the disgusting Kelvin Mackenzie &  numerous tacky book, video & DVD cash ins (the videos outing this bumptious wazzock as the original full kit wanker by the way) we might suggest it has long ceased to be your job to claim to represent the ordinary fan. And if you are so concerned about the dominant role of the fat cats why do you whine like a 5-year old when Sky show Crystal Place v Everton and not Liverpool v Man Utd? On a personal note Mr Baker was diagnosed with cancer at the same time as my father. Thankfully he survived, unlike my father, only to more than once publicly wish this most horrible of illnesses on fellow human beings , the first time  less than a year later during the 2011 London riots. This led to fellow cancer survivor John Hartson describing him as ‘a twat of a man.’  Seems about right. Baker never apologised for his despicable comments & we can only imagine the furore if John Terry himself had made them. Vile & classless anyone?

Quick off the mark to scorn JT’s acquittal after the unpleasant Anton Ferdinand escapade was the delightful Robbie Fowler. We will probably never know the truth regarding the context of what was said in that mutually abusive exchange of views during an ugly, heated West London derby. We do know that the ferrety Liverpool striker openly showered Graeme Le Saux with homophobic abuse at Stamford Bridge in 1999, accompanied with a lengthy, provocative wiggling of his already expanding (& deeply unappetizing) Scouse arse at our happily married full back. We also know that such antics have empowered every cretinous ‘Chelsea Rentboys’ chant ever since. Cheers Robbie. Strangely, Ian Herbert, Brian Reade, Duncan Castles et al don’t seem quite so keen to take the moral high ground about this one. We also know that Stuart Pearce used unacceptable, racially abusive language to well-known wind up merchant Paul Ince during a match in 1993. The two sorted it out afterwards, remained England colleagues for years after & Pearce later became a national hero during Euro ’96. Amazing what you can get away with if the media are on your side & you don’t play for Chelsea.

Or sometimes if you do.  Didier Drogba has a cringey send off in a meaningless end of season game against Sunderland in 2015 & nobody bats an eye lid. Terry has a cringey send off in a meaningless end of season game against Sunderland & Garth Crooks is choking on his Lardy cake within 10 seconds. Incidentally, Drogba is one of many high-profile, articulate & strong-minded black players (Desailly, Hasselbaink, Makelele among many of the others) to have played alongside Terry. You imagine that after twenty years, a large chunk of it spent as club captain of a truly multi cultural & ethnically diverse football team, that at least one of these voices would have broken rank & outed him if anybody at Chelsea, the place where people really know him, seriously believed he was a racist.

Hopefully, his departure will be a chance to subdue the torrent of hate filled, third rate journalism about the club I have loved for nearly half a century. Terry not being a Chelsea player may mean they give him a slightly easier ride too. I wont hold my breath though. When I admire a Caravaggio painting I shelve the knowledge that he was a murderer. The sculptor Eric Gill’s works are still widely exhibited & enjoyed despite him having sexual encounters with not only his sisters & daughters but also the family dog. Makes briefly parking in a disabled space seem relatively small beer really, but woe betide the working class boy who succeeds as a Chelsea footballer & openly enjoys his success, making the sort of mistakes that young, talented, cocky & rich people do in all spheres of life. A different moral code will apply to you.

I saw John’s first game in a Chelsea shirt, a League Cup game in 1998, ironically against his new employers Aston Villa. He looked a bit ungainly & I wondered if he would go the way of Nick Crittendon & Steven Hampshire, players who had also made fleeting appearances in that competition before disappearing off to Yeovil, Brechin or other relative backwaters of football. Instead, he  developed into a player of true greatness & it has been a pleasure to behold. I revere his talent, am grateful I got to see him display it regularly at first hand, & wish him well at Villa Park.