Tell Him He's Pele

 

Photo: The Telegraph

The end of 2022 brought some sad news to the world of football. The death of Pele, one of the greatest players – arguably the greatest – of all time affected people not only in his birth country of Brazil and the world over but particularly people of my generation, those brought up in the 1960s and 70s.

My first memory of a major football competition was the 1970 World Cup finals played in Mexico. I was just eight years old and living in Aberdeen, having left Cumbernauld the previous year after my parents split up. In our rented accommodation in the Granite City we had a small, 14 inch, black and white portable television (ask your grandparents about black and white televisions, young ‘uns) There were only three television channels in the UK back then but as our cheap telly couldn’t receive BBC2 we had to make do with BBC1 and ITV which, in Aberdeen, came in the guise of Grampian Television. As part of the ITV network, Grampian showed the World Cup finals along with the BBC and this was something new and exciting for me.

The 6-hour time difference between Mexico and darkest Aberdeen meant I was allowed to watch some of the games albeit it was rather grainy black and white pictures. Half a century ago, the satellite technology wasn’t quite the standard we have today and the sound quality as well as the picture wasn’t great. But despite the grey pictures matching the grey buildings of Aberdeen, I did manage to watch the brilliant Brazilian team, of which Pele was the talisman.
At that stage in my life I had only ever been to Brockville, Tynecastle and Pittodrie and I had never seen anyone there do the things that Pele was doing with and without a football. I was mesmerised by Brazil, not only Pele but Jairzinho, Carlos Alberto and Tostao.

They were like magicians, gliding across the field teasing and tormenting their opponents. Not only that but there was a sportsmanship and Corinthian spirit shown by Pele that now sadly seems confined to a bygone age. Pele’s death last month was an excuse for the English media to show that well-worn clip from the World Cup of 1970 of England goalkeeper Gordon Banks pulling off a brilliant save from Pele’s downward header, thereby preventing a certain goal. Rather than vent his frustration, Pele applauded the save. After the game he swapped shirts with England captain Bobby Moore and their warm embrace and appreciation for each other’s talents was a splendid message for youngsters like me watching in awe. Simple gestures such as this taught respect.

Pele’s decision to retire from international football two years later deprived the world of seeing this gifted player at the next World Cup in West Germany in 1974. He was 33 at that stage but still surely good enough to grace the world stage.

His impact on the game was extraordinary. Fans the world over yearned to play like Pele, score as many goals as Pele and simply to be like Pele. Edson Arantes do Nascimento was one of the greatest players of all time and labelled ‘the greatest’ by football’s world governing body FIFA.  He was an icon of the 20th century.

An indication of the universal popularity of the great man came during a league game in Scotland in 1992. Partick Thistle striker Colin McGlashan took a serious head knock during their game against Dundee. The Thistle physio ran on to attend to the stricken player and shouted across to manager John Lambie ‘I think it’s concussion, boss. He doesn’t know who he is.’ Now in these enlightened times, a stretcher would be called for and the player would have to adhere to strict concussion protocols, likely having to miss the next game. Thirty years ago, things were somewhat different.

Lambie bawled his instructions. ‘Tell him he’s Pele and get him back on his feet!’

I wrote earlier this season about how two Scottish football icons of the 1970s – Hearts Drew Busby and Aberdeen’s Davie Robb – were both taken from us within a few weeks last summer. 2022 left it late to claim the biggest football icon of all. But the memory of Pele will never diminish. His gift, his sportsmanship, his life ethos, will be kept alive forever.

Much was made of the alleged rivalry between Pele and another great player who was taken from us just a couple of years ago. But Pele didn’t see the Argentinian genius Diego Maradona as a rival, particularly as they were from different eras. When Maradona died at just 60 years of age, Pele expressed his sadness and said he looked forward, one day, to playing alongside him in heaven.

It’s an image to gladden the heart in these difficult times.

 

Twitter @Mike1874

Side By Side

 

As someone who was born in the swinging sixties and who vaguely remembers the summer of love and flower power, I have been known to look at football in the past through rose-tinted spectacles. My 17-year-old grandson dons a look of despair when I utter the words ‘I remember when I were a lad’ but I have to admit I don’t miss things like standing on an open terracing in the pouring rain and toilets which were little more than a brick wall with no roof and an overflowing drain of…well, you know.

However, I do regale young Jack with tales of standing on said terraces next to fans of the opposing team. Hearts and Hibs fans of my generation will tell you of standing alongside each other at Tynecastle and Easter Road and enjoying the game in each other’s company. The notable exception in my case was New Year’s Day 1973 but I won’t go into this…

I was reminded about this about a month ago when I took my seat at Meadowbank Stadium to watch FC Edinburgh take on Airdrieonians. There was a sizeable travelling support from North Lanarkshire and while there were some Edinburgh fans to my right, to my left sat around half a dozen aficionados of Airdrieonians who arrived about five minutes before kick-off having clearly sampled the hospitality of the splendid Artisan hostelry along the road.

‘Are you an Edinburgh fan?’ asked a rather large gentleman, bedecked in a red and white scarf and seemingly from a similar generation as myself.

‘Well, er...’ I replied, coughing nervously.

He put his hand out to shake mine and said ‘dae ye mind if we sit here?’

‘Not at all, my good fellow’ I replied, ‘you and your associates are most welcome’

He turned to his mate. ‘Whit did he say?’

‘He said it’s fine’ his pal confirmed.

Over the course of the following ninety minutes my Airdrieonians associate and I regaled stories of years gone by whilst keeping a close eye on what was happening on the field. I have to say he was very good company even if one of his pals had perhaps imbibed on a pint of ale too many at the Artisan as he bellowed his irritation at his favourites every couple of minutes or so.

However, the conversation was amiable enough and the Diamond geezer in the next seat told me he had been following his team since the late 1960s, around the same time as I had gone to my first football game. As someone with maroon tendencies, I was particularly pleased when we got on to discussing the sublime talent that was Drew Busby. ‘Buzz bomb’ as he was affectionately known was an icon of Broomfield, Airdrie’s former ground around fifty years ago before he moved to Hearts for what was a sizeable fee in 1973. Busby, who passed away earlier this year, remains a Hearts hero of mine, as I have mentioned in these pages before, so I was delighted to discuss the great man with a like-minded fan. He also concurred that Hearts had also tried to sign Busby’s strike partner Drew Jarvie at the same time, but he headed to Aberdeen.

We chatted about others who shared the Hearts-Airdrie connection such as Alex Macdonald, Sandy Clark, Gary Mackay Walter Kidd, Kenny Black, Jimmy Sandison, and Alan ‘Nipper’ Lawrence who once graced this very stadium in the colours of Meadowbank Thistle.

Of course my new found Airdrie chum didn’t share my delight at the outcome of the game although he did ask if he could look at my FC Edinburgh's award-winning programme. At this point I didn’t want to point out the Mike Smith mentioned in the programme was my good self in case he took umbrage at what was written but he did say the programme was one of the best in League One.

At the final whistle we shook hands and he made to catch up with his loud-mouthed and clearly upset pal who was still bellowing at the players as they came off the park at the end of the game.

It was a lovely reminder of days gone by when fans of opposing teams could stand or sit side by side, enjoy the game and share good-natured banter without the need to resort to verbal or, in the dark days of the 1970s and 80s, physical violence. ‘You’re gonna get your ****ing head kicked in’ was a common chant at many football grounds forty and fifty years ago but thankfully rarely heard these days.

I’m looking forward to renewing our acquaintance when Edinburgh visit the Excelsior Stadium in the day after New Year’s Day. I may even buy him a pint after the game.

Okay, I’ve taken that too far…

 

Mike Smith

 

Twitter @Mike1874

Very Annoying Results (VAR)

 

                                                            Image: Sporting News

It is an argument, which has been the talk of football fans throughout the land – and, following the World Cup, the globe. Video Assistant Referee – VAR. Has it benefitted our game? Or will it, without wishing to be overly dramatic, be the death of it? 

VAR has been used in English football for some time now and the concerns raised there have now spread north of Hadrian’s Wall since it was introduced into the Scottish Premiership in October. It was hailed as a technique that would revolutionise football, ensuring controversial decisions were kept to a minimum and that it would prove to be a boon for our game. Fewer mistakes. More correct decisions. Fewer unjustified defeats. Simple. Except this hasn’t quite worked out the way the football authorities had hoped. Sadly, thus far, it has proved to be the opposite.

Technology seems to have taken over our lives. The seemingly endless yearn to replace humans with robots is a sad reflection on present day society. Supermarkets are now festooned with self-service checkouts; damn it you can’t even go for a pint of milk without some robotic voice telling you there’s an ‘unexpected item in the baggage area.’ Some football clubs are even going down the machine route with the humble turnstile operator now replaced by a machine looking for a bar code on your match ticket/season ticket card. At least FC Edinburgh’s esteemed programme editor can still be found collecting money at the gate from fans, greeting them with a welcome and a cheery smile (are you talking about me? Ed)

Now it seems the machines are taking over that most crucial of match day functions. No, not the gate money. The role of the referee who, despite what you may think, is only human.

And there’s the rub. Football is a game played by humans. Humans, by their very nature, are prone to make mistakes. Everyone does, it’s part of life. Even my wife has admitted to making mistakes, namely the day she married me but that’s another story. Football referees are prone to making more mistakes than anyone. Again, it’s in the very nature of their profession. Football is a high-pace game and referees, and their assistants can’t see everything that goes on over ninety minutes (or 100 minutes if you’re officiating at the World Cup in Qatar…)

Making mistakes is part of football. Players are dropped for making them. Managers are sacked for making too many of them. And poor referees are subjected to vitriol most weeks by fans of all teams although this merely illustrates they are doing something right. It’s what makes football the game it is. At least that’s the way it used to be.

VAR was first used in 2017 with the intention of taking some of the pressure off the poor harangued referees and making life better for everyone. The vast sums of money in the game these days mean an erroneous offside decision, blatant penalty denied or incorrect sending off can affect results and possibly mean the difference between winning a trophy or, worse, relegation potentially costing a club millions of pounds. And, subsequently, the wealth of a club owner or shareholders, or venture capitalists on the other side of the world. At our level, a referee’s mistake may cost FC Edinburgh three points and ruin the weekend for hundreds of Citizens. But at the highest level of the game a referee’s error could potentially affect a considerable financial investment.

However, the underlying factor with VAR is that the decisions are still overseen by human beings meaning mistakes are still prevalent. The expectation among fans is that VAR should be eliminating mistakes, but human beings still set the guidelines. Therefore, we have a ridiculous scenario of mistakes remaining in games even after someone in a television studio some distance away has studied the action after an excruciating amount of time. Japan against Spain in the World Cup anyone?

And this is my main gripe about VAR. It is killing the art of goal celebration. The robotic tendencies of VAR mean that decisions are scrutinised to the nearest millimetre. Your team scores a vital goal near the end of the game, your star striker wheels away to take the acclaim of celebrating supporters and your joy is unconfined. Until a man in a box miles away wags his finger and says to the referee through an earpiece ‘nah, the striker’s fingernail strayed momentarily into an offside position. I don’t think the goal should stand but go away and have a look yourself.’

VAR is paralysing the passion of football. We will very soon be at the stage where when a goal is scored, we won’t be jumping on the fan sitting next to us in delight. Instead, we’ll be looking to a giant screen waiting for our joy to be banished.

What do you want from watching football? A game with passion, excitement, tension and, yes, mistakes? Or a soulless, nervous, hesitant passionless reaction which will rip the heart from the game?

I know which I would prefer…

 

Mike Smith

 

Twitter @Mike1874

At the End of the Day

 

It was one of the first football clichés I can recall and goes back to the 1970s. ‘As sick as a parrot’. There are many different explanations as to the origins of this particular cliché although my favourite dates back almost a century. 

Tottenham Hotspur went on an overseas tour in 1908 and the captain of the ship they sailed on presented them with a parrot as a gift. The bird sat happily in the confines of White Hart Lane in North London. However, controversy arose in 1919 when Spurs arch-rivals Arsenal were admitted to the First Division - at Spurs expense. The day the decision was announced the parrot died (I won’t make the obvious Monty Python gag…)

Clichés are so ingrained in football these days it’s little surprise that players and managers will trot them out ad finite. In my more idle moments, I have wondered when they were first spoken and who by. I’ve often heard it said after a particularly physical game that ‘no quarter was asked’. What does that mean exactly? How does that fit with another well-worn cliché ‘a game of two halves’? I’ve never quite understood what no quarter was asked meant. I can fathom its use in other scenarios. I had an argument with my local sweetshop owner the other day when I accused him of falling short with the number of liquorice all sorts he put in my bag. His response of ‘well there was no quarter asked’ was understandable if somewhat irritating. However, what it means in a football sense is less clear.

Then there’s the 'stonewall' penalty. I heard one of the seemingly endless summarisers on television say the other week after a player was hauled down and the referee waved play on that ‘for me, it was a stonewaller’. The pundit is far from alone in using this phrase, but it does make me wonder what it means in a football context.

Some pearls of wisdom remain etched in the memory. Craig Burley was summarising a Newcastle United v Aston Villa game a few years back. At 0-0, Villa’s John Carew blasted his penalty into the upper tier of the Gallowgate Stand of St. James Park inducing Burley to opine ‘he hit the ball too well….’

One that I haven’t heard for a while - educated foot - as in "he's spraying the ball around the park with his educated left foot" Now there are two inexplicable clichés in the same sentence. Can you spray a solid, spherical object? And in what context can your left foot be educated? Did it go to St. Andrew’s University while the rest of your body hopped around the streets with a sweeping brush?

BT Sports Champions League coverage includes summaries from the former Liverpool defender Jim Beglin. The Irishman talks a good game, but he does tend to use the phrase "that was meat and drink for the goalkeeper" whenever a cross ball is easily collected. I half expect Manchester City’s goalkeeper Ederson to catch the ball, produce a napkin from his shorts and start tucking into the match ball…

Prior to their exclusion to Champions League coverage, ITV used to have former United and West Bromwich Albion manager Ron Atkinson as a summariser until he courted controversy with a racist comment. Atkinson is given the credit - or should that be blame - for first coining the phrase ‘early doors’ as in ‘United will look to keep things tight early doors.’ Many people use that term now and we all know what it means but I do wonder how on earth Atkinson thought it made any sense.

There are clichés in all walks of public life. How many politicians do you hear saying ‘the fact of the matter is’? (usually when they’re trying desperately to think of an answer to a probing question) However, they seem more prevalent in football and it’s not just players and officials. Newspaper reporters will often refer to a manager ‘losing the dressing room’ or the more successful ones as ‘supremo' while the transfer window always 'slams shut' at the end of August and January.

At the end of the day, cliches are part and parcel of football. It’s a big ask for me not to write this article without resorting to cliché mode and, to be fair, I set my stall out early doors. Although, I have to say, as I wrote this whilst consuming copious amounts of brandy this there’s a fair chance ‘I’ll be feeling that one in the morning…’

Mike Smith 

@Mike1874