The constantly expanding and growing ITN Source website has thrown up a number of Everton-related clips not generally seen since the news bulletins of the day – behold 5 randomly great or interesting ones discovered by dedicated Blues across message boards.
1. Paul Wilkinson’s derby winner – May 23rd, 1985. Even on the recently released 84-85 official season review, no footage appeared to exist of the moment that sealed the last occasion on which we achieved a derby double in a single season. Played on the Thursday night following the cup final, Howard Kendall took the opportunity to 'rotate' his squad, making four changes and fielding the likes of Richardson, Bailey, Harper and Atkins. Although the £816 price for the clip might delay the search for a new striker, it would be nice to think updates of that season review or the Official History DVD might include this goal.
2. Alex Young header v Spurs – April 20th, 1963. A tremendous soaring header in front of over 67,000 at Goodison as the team, unbeaten at home all season, closed in on the league title.
3. A 2-2 draw at Fulham – December 14th, 1963. Proof if any were needed that, this year aside, winning at Craven Cottage is not a struggle particular only to this generation of Everton team. Having raced into a two goal lead, one from Brian Harris and another from the Golden Vision, the clear as a bell action records an all too familiar looking collapse…
4. Bob Latchford’s press conference - February 14th, 1974. Silent footage but worth it to remember a time when a) big money signings came into Goodison and b) such signings were seemingly dressed by Bob Ferris, or possibly more accurately Thelma. Nice to see the East German-looking exterior of Goodison at the time.
5. 2-0 Defeat to Dukla Prague - August 8th, 1961. The culmination of a lengthy American tour as the Blues took part in the 1961 International Soccer League, a competition held through the summer. Starting in late May, the Blues had to play seven games in a group featuring among others Kilmarnock, Dinamo Bucharest, Besiktas and Canadian giants Montreal Concordia . Despite sending home Roy Vernon in June for breaching a curfew, Harry Catterick's men won the group and proceeded to the two legged August final against Dukla Prague (referred to as Czech army squad in the ITN notes, reflecting the team's 1948 origin). They had progressed from the other group, led by 1962's European Footballer of the Year, Josef Masopust, using New York's Central Park as their training base. The action comes from the second leg, almost a dead rubber given the 7-2 battering Dukla handed out in the first game.
Tuesday 13 December 2011
Delifonseca - a quick review
website
The combination of a text message from a mate on holiday in New York reporting he was off to the majestic Katz’s Deli and a Friday off work was all the impetus needed to abandon plans for Christmas shopping and head to Delifonseca at Brunswick Dock, in search of great sandwich action. Already busy when we arrived, we were shown to a booth more than big enough to house the space that even the shortest trip out with a sixteen-week old baby demands. There was no massive inspection of the menu required, my jealousy at the aforementioned trip to Katz’s meant I was always going to be choosing pastrami, while Catherine had enjoyed the muffulleta on a previous visit and ordered that.
Both were excellent. The pastrami was of a high quality and was accompanied by a lovely deep mustard dip and monster gherkin. If anything, the muffulleta was unexpectedly slightly better, a generously stacked focaccia combination of Comte cheese, salami and prosciutto. Both were served with a portion of fresh and tasty chips – not enough if I was to criticise, but then I am a greedy get. I should also mention the well-dressed greenery that was a welcome addition to the plate rather than just taking up space on it.
As it was a flying lunchtime visit we did not take up one of the very decent dessert options or sample one of the many available bottled beers, which pleasingly included representatives from the Cains, Wapping and Liverpool Organic Breweries. We did though have a quick look round the deli, always a battle between heart and wallet, and ended up with some pasta and some pudding for the evening.
Well worth getting involved.
The combination of a text message from a mate on holiday in New York reporting he was off to the majestic Katz’s Deli and a Friday off work was all the impetus needed to abandon plans for Christmas shopping and head to Delifonseca at Brunswick Dock, in search of great sandwich action. Already busy when we arrived, we were shown to a booth more than big enough to house the space that even the shortest trip out with a sixteen-week old baby demands. There was no massive inspection of the menu required, my jealousy at the aforementioned trip to Katz’s meant I was always going to be choosing pastrami, while Catherine had enjoyed the muffulleta on a previous visit and ordered that.
Both were excellent. The pastrami was of a high quality and was accompanied by a lovely deep mustard dip and monster gherkin. If anything, the muffulleta was unexpectedly slightly better, a generously stacked focaccia combination of Comte cheese, salami and prosciutto. Both were served with a portion of fresh and tasty chips – not enough if I was to criticise, but then I am a greedy get. I should also mention the well-dressed greenery that was a welcome addition to the plate rather than just taking up space on it.
As it was a flying lunchtime visit we did not take up one of the very decent dessert options or sample one of the many available bottled beers, which pleasingly included representatives from the Cains, Wapping and Liverpool Organic Breweries. We did though have a quick look round the deli, always a battle between heart and wallet, and ended up with some pasta and some pudding for the evening.
Well worth getting involved.
Thursday 29 September 2011
Random great Everton goals #12
James Vaughan - Chelsea v Everton
Stamford Bridge, May 13, 2007
As funny as the sight of Carlos Tevez encamped on the bench with all the determination of a Dale Farm occupant was on Tuesday (and incidentally why the surprise/shock? The man is a gobshite whose understanding of English extends as far as “Ladies and Gentleman, flight BA425 to Buenos Aires is now boarding”), it provided a grimly jarring contrast to the sight of James Vaughan being helped from the pitch in distress the previous evening. If there is any justice, the next time a serious injury is being handed out, it won’t be to a player whose career to now has been marred by a frustrating catalogue of injuries and who must be desperate for as much match time as he can get his hands on. As easy as it to dismiss many of the current crop of footballers as self-obsessed irritants, Vaughan’s almost anachronistic all action style and enthusiasm generated a lot of warmth for him amongst the Everton crowd. One of the best aspects of the FA Cup semi final win in 2009 was his return from long-term absence to coolly slot away his penalty, coupled with his post-match celebratory dash across the pitch, mirroring much of what was going on in the stands.
This flowing breakaway goal came on the final day of the season during arguably Vaughan’s best run of form in a blue shirt after he had finally displaced James Beattie in the first team, during a match in which he ragged John Terry, England’s permanently sobbing Lionheart, all over Stamford Bridge. Fingers crossed he starts to get the career he wants.
Stamford Bridge, May 13, 2007
As funny as the sight of Carlos Tevez encamped on the bench with all the determination of a Dale Farm occupant was on Tuesday (and incidentally why the surprise/shock? The man is a gobshite whose understanding of English extends as far as “Ladies and Gentleman, flight BA425 to Buenos Aires is now boarding”), it provided a grimly jarring contrast to the sight of James Vaughan being helped from the pitch in distress the previous evening. If there is any justice, the next time a serious injury is being handed out, it won’t be to a player whose career to now has been marred by a frustrating catalogue of injuries and who must be desperate for as much match time as he can get his hands on. As easy as it to dismiss many of the current crop of footballers as self-obsessed irritants, Vaughan’s almost anachronistic all action style and enthusiasm generated a lot of warmth for him amongst the Everton crowd. One of the best aspects of the FA Cup semi final win in 2009 was his return from long-term absence to coolly slot away his penalty, coupled with his post-match celebratory dash across the pitch, mirroring much of what was going on in the stands.
This flowing breakaway goal came on the final day of the season during arguably Vaughan’s best run of form in a blue shirt after he had finally displaced James Beattie in the first team, during a match in which he ragged John Terry, England’s permanently sobbing Lionheart, all over Stamford Bridge. Fingers crossed he starts to get the career he wants.
Wednesday 14 September 2011
September Playlist - A Rose for Emily
I'd intended to do a follow up to May's mix sooner, but for a few reasons including the arrival of my daughter (hence the title) I haven't. Prompted and inspired by a walk round Sefton Park yesterday with the iPod on shuffle though, I have created the following. Bit of a mix of stuff, so as with the average buffet, pick and choose as you see fit... (tracklisting is revealed when play is pressed)
Download
Download
Tuesday 19 July 2011
Random great Everton goals #11
Tony Cottee - Sheffield Wednesday v Everton
Hillsborough, February 6, 1993
While Everton’s summer paralysis in the transfer market has been depressingly familiar, the last few weeks have been livened up no end by the efforts of newly formed organisations such as The People’s Group to have the media throw some attention on the running of the club, resulting in debates on both Radio 5 and TalkSport, as well as articles – albeit by Liverpool fans – in the now defunct News of the World and Daily Mirror. The result of this pressure has been, if the message boards are any barometer, to produce the most vociferous split within supporters since the failed Kirkby move.
While much of the debate has been depressing abusive and missed the key issues, excellent blogs on both sides (and in the middle) of the divide have appeared from the likes of Mark O’Brien, Biff Bifferson, Juice Terry Journo and Colin Fitzpatrick. The section of the media to really let itself down has been the local media, which has largely ignored the issue, claiming implausibly that the club are ‘continuing to monitor’ or ‘keep tabs’ on £12 million-rated players and giving fascinating nuggets about the players’ Twitter activity. When it has looked at the issue, it has largely dismissed concerns and followed the club’s official line, with only the chastised Dave Prentice recently offering any semblance of criticism. If the campaign achieves nothing else, it will hopefully force more meaningful and clear dialogue from the club to those it expects to consistently hand money over in increasingly hard financial times. Having petulantly cancelled AGMs after some legitimately tough questioning, the current system of a fans parliament with no minutes produced would only seem inclusive and open by 1970’s East German standards.
It seemed ironically appropriate then, to feature a player who represents a time when Everton’s financial muscle was as strong as anyone’s. On his arrival at Goodison in 1988 for a British record £2.2m (a fee probably beyond the club in 2011), Tony Cottee represented Colin Harvey’s key effort to wrestle the championship from back across the park. Despite a hat trick on his debut, ultimately his career at L4 was a succession of fits and starts and he eventually suffered the ignominy of leaving the club as part of the deal to bring in David ‘f*cking’ Burrows, although his 70 odd goals in 180 odd games is respectable given the mediocre sides he played in. This effort came in a 3-1 defeat toward the end of a season in which the team finished an underwhelming 13th.
Hillsborough, February 6, 1993
While Everton’s summer paralysis in the transfer market has been depressingly familiar, the last few weeks have been livened up no end by the efforts of newly formed organisations such as The People’s Group to have the media throw some attention on the running of the club, resulting in debates on both Radio 5 and TalkSport, as well as articles – albeit by Liverpool fans – in the now defunct News of the World and Daily Mirror. The result of this pressure has been, if the message boards are any barometer, to produce the most vociferous split within supporters since the failed Kirkby move.
While much of the debate has been depressing abusive and missed the key issues, excellent blogs on both sides (and in the middle) of the divide have appeared from the likes of Mark O’Brien, Biff Bifferson, Juice Terry Journo and Colin Fitzpatrick. The section of the media to really let itself down has been the local media, which has largely ignored the issue, claiming implausibly that the club are ‘continuing to monitor’ or ‘keep tabs’ on £12 million-rated players and giving fascinating nuggets about the players’ Twitter activity. When it has looked at the issue, it has largely dismissed concerns and followed the club’s official line, with only the chastised Dave Prentice recently offering any semblance of criticism. If the campaign achieves nothing else, it will hopefully force more meaningful and clear dialogue from the club to those it expects to consistently hand money over in increasingly hard financial times. Having petulantly cancelled AGMs after some legitimately tough questioning, the current system of a fans parliament with no minutes produced would only seem inclusive and open by 1970’s East German standards.
It seemed ironically appropriate then, to feature a player who represents a time when Everton’s financial muscle was as strong as anyone’s. On his arrival at Goodison in 1988 for a British record £2.2m (a fee probably beyond the club in 2011), Tony Cottee represented Colin Harvey’s key effort to wrestle the championship from back across the park. Despite a hat trick on his debut, ultimately his career at L4 was a succession of fits and starts and he eventually suffered the ignominy of leaving the club as part of the deal to bring in David ‘f*cking’ Burrows, although his 70 odd goals in 180 odd games is respectable given the mediocre sides he played in. This effort came in a 3-1 defeat toward the end of a season in which the team finished an underwhelming 13th.
Monday 20 June 2011
Death or Glory: The Dark History of the World Cup – Jon Spurling
There’s nothing like a topical review. And this is nothing… etc etc. A Christmas present I’ve only just got round to reading, Jon Spurling’s work should be required reading for those – generally motivated by finance – who justify competing against questionable regimes, or in questionable locations, with the trite “we shouldn’t mix sport and politics line”. The central theme running through the book is the extent to which governments and leaders (predominately autocratic) have used the World Cup to attempt to rally support behind their regime, often having identified its potential usefulness early on. Spurling uses this idea to cleverly provide a different perspective on some of the more almost clichéd, iconic images of the tournament; the 1970 triumph of Brazil and Argentina’s tickertape triumph of 1978 are set in the context of the Medici and Videla dictatorships taking hold and seeking legitimacy in those countries, while the cartoon footage of Zaire’s Mwepu Ilunga clearing the ball uninvited against Brazil in 1974 is partially explained by the extreme pressure the players had been put under by President Mobutu.
With a cast list including the aforementioned Mobutu, Mussolini, Erich Honecker, North Korea’s Kim Il-Sung, Haiti’s ‘Papa Doc’ Duvalier, the Medillin drug cartels and Idi Amin, there is no shortage of interesting insight into the various methods, often brutal, used by these individuals to internally punish or repress and externally influence events to their own ends (although if I were to offer one criticism the closing chapter of the book, devoted to Uganda and Amin, is a bit thin and weak, and seems to have been included more due to the dictator’s notoriety).
Overall this is an excellent research piece that provides a bit of welcome shade to the blinding light of good that the World Cup has historically been assumed to provide. And just as an aside, given how frothy mouthed and pious some of the coverage of the selection of the host country was for the 2018 and 2022 tournament, it would be interesting to see how the press would have reacted if England had been in the same situation as Honduras in 1969. As recounted in the book, with relations between Honduras and El Salvador on the brink of breakdown into war, the former arrived in San Salvador for a World Cup play off, defending a 1-0 first leg lead. With the pitch surrounded by an armed National Guard, the playing of the national anthems and raising of the home team’s flag was followed by not the raising of the Honduran flag, as was customary, but “a dishrag covered in shit”. That right there is your dictionary definition of intimidation.
Thursday 2 June 2011
Paul Trevor’s “Like You’ve Never Been Away”
Probably the most discussed exhibition of the current Liverpool International Photography Festival is Paul Trevor’s “Like You’ve Never Been Away”. Trevor spent five months in a flat in Everton in 1975 taking photos for a project studying inner city deprivation, and the full result of his efforts are now on display at the Walker Art Gallery. Trevor’s black and white photos, largely based in Everton and Toxteth, tend to fall into two categories; a selection of staged individual and family portraits and, more interestingly for me, unguarded shots of predominately children going about their business. These latter shots emote in the same way as the work of the likes of Robert Doisneau or Willy Ronis, albeit in a markedly different setting.
Some have tried to draw far reaching conclusions about the photos providing us with evidence of some Life on Mars panacea where kids made their own entertainment, everyone knew everyone else and ‘health and safety’ wasn’t ruining our lives, ignoring the associated but unseen risk and danger that was potentially around the corner for the subjects (a taste of which is covered in the brief documentary about Trevor’s recent return to the area that forms part of the exhibition). For me it is what it is: a beautifully shot reflection of a period in time, especially as a non-native of the city who has seen much change in the past 14-15 years, but has little conception of the look of Liverpool in that earlier decade. Carrying on at The Walker after the end of the Festival and running until the end of September, there is no excuse not to get along and have a look.
Monday 23 May 2011
Random great Everton goals #10
Anders Limpar - Leicester v Everton
Filbert Street, March 4, 1995
At the conclusion of a wildly schizophrenic season that saw about as many points picked up against the top six as bottom six, and which culminated in a well earned win against the always repellent Chelsea, there are a few things I’d rather not see at Goodison next season. John Heitinga and Phil Neville together in midfield. Kevin Nolan being made to look like Socrates. ‘Rossy la’ on the mic. Lee Mason refereeing. Or Peter Walton for that matter.
There are certain things it would however be nice to see. With the inevitable departure of messrs Yakubu and Vaughan, a centre forward ready for first team action with a decent record of scoring goals and avoiding the treatment table. Cover at left back that isn’t Phil Neville or Tony Hibbert. And most importantly for me, a winger with pace. Central to our problems over the first half of the season was an inability to use width to break down sides coming to L4 seeking only a point. And with alluring continental free agents with dubious appearance records (Vicente) joining their mundane British equivalents (the all too plausible, given our spending power, Kieron Dyer) on David Moyes’ supposed watch list to solve this problem, it all begs the question: what would we now give for Andrei Kanchelskis in his prime?
With a deftness of touch that even the Fernando Torres of Sunday afternoon would regard as heavy and unsubtle, I hamfistedly venture we would also benefit from the presence of the scorer of today’s random goal: Anders Limpar. Limpar’s relatively brief Everton career was bookended with disappointment; indifferent early displays headlined by THAT handball against Wimbledon and disappearing almost unnoticed out of the door after a period in the cold to Birmingham in 1997. For the majority of his time in a blue shirt however he was a personal favourite of mine, particularly as the artisan in the otherwise wonderfully industrial 1994-5 side.
His treatment at the hands of Joe Royle was curious. Having been part of that cup winning side and lauded by his manager for resembling Platini at times, he seemed to link up well with Kanchelskis after the Ukranian’s arrival in the summer of 1995, the glorious highlight of which was the pair’s combination for the second goal at the Tin Mine as Uncle Roy’s side exposed its oft-present glass jaw in big games. As things started to go wrong the following season and Kanchelskis departed amid myriad rumour, the increasing criticism appeared to entrench Royle into a more negative and paranoid attitude and Limpar seemed to become a luxury he felt the side (now featuring Claus Thomsen) could no longer afford, leading to his departure. Or maybe the Swede had only himself to blame; his career post 1997 certainly suggested someone with a waning interest in competing at the highest level. Whatever the truth, his Everton career ultimately flickered rather than shone, but when it was good it was ace.
This goal came toward the end of the 1995 season when Royle felt secure enough in the club’s continued status in the league to give future hatchet man of Spanish football Vinny Samways a run out at Filbert Street. Charity Shield hero Samways duly notched, but the highlight of the 2-2 draw was Anders’ effort from distance.
Filbert Street, March 4, 1995
At the conclusion of a wildly schizophrenic season that saw about as many points picked up against the top six as bottom six, and which culminated in a well earned win against the always repellent Chelsea, there are a few things I’d rather not see at Goodison next season. John Heitinga and Phil Neville together in midfield. Kevin Nolan being made to look like Socrates. ‘Rossy la’ on the mic. Lee Mason refereeing. Or Peter Walton for that matter.
There are certain things it would however be nice to see. With the inevitable departure of messrs Yakubu and Vaughan, a centre forward ready for first team action with a decent record of scoring goals and avoiding the treatment table. Cover at left back that isn’t Phil Neville or Tony Hibbert. And most importantly for me, a winger with pace. Central to our problems over the first half of the season was an inability to use width to break down sides coming to L4 seeking only a point. And with alluring continental free agents with dubious appearance records (Vicente) joining their mundane British equivalents (the all too plausible, given our spending power, Kieron Dyer) on David Moyes’ supposed watch list to solve this problem, it all begs the question: what would we now give for Andrei Kanchelskis in his prime?
With a deftness of touch that even the Fernando Torres of Sunday afternoon would regard as heavy and unsubtle, I hamfistedly venture we would also benefit from the presence of the scorer of today’s random goal: Anders Limpar. Limpar’s relatively brief Everton career was bookended with disappointment; indifferent early displays headlined by THAT handball against Wimbledon and disappearing almost unnoticed out of the door after a period in the cold to Birmingham in 1997. For the majority of his time in a blue shirt however he was a personal favourite of mine, particularly as the artisan in the otherwise wonderfully industrial 1994-5 side.
His treatment at the hands of Joe Royle was curious. Having been part of that cup winning side and lauded by his manager for resembling Platini at times, he seemed to link up well with Kanchelskis after the Ukranian’s arrival in the summer of 1995, the glorious highlight of which was the pair’s combination for the second goal at the Tin Mine as Uncle Roy’s side exposed its oft-present glass jaw in big games. As things started to go wrong the following season and Kanchelskis departed amid myriad rumour, the increasing criticism appeared to entrench Royle into a more negative and paranoid attitude and Limpar seemed to become a luxury he felt the side (now featuring Claus Thomsen) could no longer afford, leading to his departure. Or maybe the Swede had only himself to blame; his career post 1997 certainly suggested someone with a waning interest in competing at the highest level. Whatever the truth, his Everton career ultimately flickered rather than shone, but when it was good it was ace.
This goal came toward the end of the 1995 season when Royle felt secure enough in the club’s continued status in the league to give future hatchet man of Spanish football Vinny Samways a run out at Filbert Street. Charity Shield hero Samways duly notched, but the highlight of the 2-2 draw was Anders’ effort from distance.
Wednesday 4 May 2011
A May Playlist - The Rise and Fall of Alain Perrin
No overarching theme to the title, the picture or running through the selection, just a collection of records that seem to sound great in the sunshine. Enjoy. Or don't. It's up to you...
Tracklisting:
Beach Boys - Our Prayer
Strawberry Alarm Clock - They Saw The Fat Man Coming
Allen Clapp - Whenever We're Together
Shaun Harris - Colour of Your Eyes
Aluminum Group - Chocolates
Stephen Fretwell - Bumper Cars
Nicole Crosille - We Got a Thing
La's - Was it Something I Said
Tyrone Davis - Can I Change My Mind
Alzo Fronte - That's Alright (I Don't Mind It)
Del Shannon - Runaway (1967 version)
Cosmic Rough Riders - Move Along
Cranebuilders - Just Idleness
Great Northwestern Hoboes - Upon my Shelf
American Spring - Fallin' in Love
Faces - You Can Make Me Dance, Sing or Anything (Even Take the Dog for a Walk, Mend a Fuse, Fold Away the Ironing Board, or Any Other Domestic Shortcomings)
Emitt Rhodes - Really Wanted You
Isley Brothers - My Love is Your Love
Jimmie Spheeris - I am the Mercury
John Grant - Fireflies
Mark Eric - Build Your Own Dream
Martha Wainwright - When The Day is Short
Air - Californie
Download
Tracklisting:
Beach Boys - Our Prayer
Strawberry Alarm Clock - They Saw The Fat Man Coming
Allen Clapp - Whenever We're Together
Shaun Harris - Colour of Your Eyes
Aluminum Group - Chocolates
Stephen Fretwell - Bumper Cars
Nicole Crosille - We Got a Thing
La's - Was it Something I Said
Tyrone Davis - Can I Change My Mind
Alzo Fronte - That's Alright (I Don't Mind It)
Del Shannon - Runaway (1967 version)
Cosmic Rough Riders - Move Along
Cranebuilders - Just Idleness
Great Northwestern Hoboes - Upon my Shelf
American Spring - Fallin' in Love
Faces - You Can Make Me Dance, Sing or Anything (Even Take the Dog for a Walk, Mend a Fuse, Fold Away the Ironing Board, or Any Other Domestic Shortcomings)
Emitt Rhodes - Really Wanted You
Isley Brothers - My Love is Your Love
Jimmie Spheeris - I am the Mercury
John Grant - Fireflies
Mark Eric - Build Your Own Dream
Martha Wainwright - When The Day is Short
Air - Californie
Download
Thursday 28 April 2011
NYPD Confidential – Leonard Levitt
Anyone who’s watched the strangely enjoyable, clichéd bollocks Donny Wahlberg vehicle ‘Bluebloods’ on Sky Atlantic will be aware of the uneasy relationship between Tom Selleck’s implausibly morally inscrutable Police commissioner and a slightly cartoony mayor always eager to drive police matters toward the most PR friendly outcome. Journalist Levitt’s modern-day history of the upper echelons of the NYPD during the mayoral terms of Edward Koch, David Dinkins, Rudy Guiliani and Michael Bloomberg, is a frankly depressing look at way commissioners and their underlings have dealt with issues surrounding police corruption (sometimes their own), mayoral influence – as it is the mayor who selects the commissioner - and the emerging threat of global terrorism.
What emerges is a culture of deliberate misinformation, vanity, patronage, power struggles and empire building that does few of the major figures in the book any credit whatsoever, despite serious crime figures generally coming down from the alarming highs of the early 1990’s. Even this progress, credited in the book to measures such as the Compstat meetings (familiar to anyone who has seen The Wire) and the Broken Windows theory (dealing with the smallest crimes to provide suspects and intelligence for the bigger ones), was the subject of squabbles and petty jealousy when credit was attributed. In many ways the book is an excellent companion piece to Edward Conlon’s ‘Blue Blood’, which was a personal officer’s history of the NYPD from ground level, and which echoes some of the themes seen here, most chillingly the almost omerta-like protection of other officers, by both rank and file and at higher levels, to the detriment of the greater outside good, despite some horrendous and tragic acts being carried out while in uniform. Although there are an extensive and dizzying number of different internal bodies and committees mentioned, which could occasionally prove confusing for a non-native, this is broadly a very interesting character study of a hugely important but flawed organisation.
Tuesday 19 April 2011
Great Liverpool Songs #3
The Stands - You Said
Despite the vocal support and financial backing of Noel Gallagher, The Stands’ two albums, All Years Leaving (2004) and Horse Fabulous (2005) made minimal impact on the charts. This is a shame, as both are more than decent and highlight the obvious talent of leader, and oft seen figure of the local music scene, Howie Payne. Possibly they lacked the initial excitement and freshness of contemporaries such as The Coral, but that shouldn’t detract from the quality, and at times blissful, 60’s feel of records such as “All Years Leaving” and “When This River Rolls Over You”. My standout track from the two albums is “You Said” a satisfyingly sweeping harmonious effort that deserved releasing as a single in its own right.
Despite the vocal support and financial backing of Noel Gallagher, The Stands’ two albums, All Years Leaving (2004) and Horse Fabulous (2005) made minimal impact on the charts. This is a shame, as both are more than decent and highlight the obvious talent of leader, and oft seen figure of the local music scene, Howie Payne. Possibly they lacked the initial excitement and freshness of contemporaries such as The Coral, but that shouldn’t detract from the quality, and at times blissful, 60’s feel of records such as “All Years Leaving” and “When This River Rolls Over You”. My standout track from the two albums is “You Said” a satisfyingly sweeping harmonious effort that deserved releasing as a single in its own right.
Monday 11 April 2011
Lunya
18–20 College Lane,
Liverpool One,
Liverpool,
L1 3DS
website
Never one to turn down the opportunity for a free or reduced meal, I was more than happy to assist Catherine in utilising the Lunya vouchers she’d received for her birthday to road test their new Spring/Summer menu. Arriving for the early evening sitting, the restaurant was nicely busy, with a couple of the parties clearly having enjoyed Ladies Day at Aintree. After the obligatory pint of Estrella to accompany a brief perusal of the menu, I decided to deviate from my normal selection of three or four different tapas dishes in order to try a larger dish that I had recommended on Facebook and Twitter when an appeal was made for ideas for dishes for the new season.
To start with though, I went for the one stone cold certainty on the menu: Monte Enebro goat’s cheese deep-fried and ordered with a side of sourdough bread. The soft bread was an ideal accompaniment to the stunning cheese, apparently a multi award winner over the years.
Catherine opted to have one tapa followed by two more when I got my ‘main’. She began with Mediterranean vegetable tempura, which, as with the Monte Enebro, benefited from a light, unobtrusive batter and which worked well its dipping sauce.
For main I went for an option from the list of paella dishes. Arroz negro is a dish I have loved when I’ve tried it in Valencia and more recently in Seville and which I’d not seen on a menu in Liverpool, hence my one-man electronic campaign to get Lunya to serve it. It was a mixture of joy and relief then that the end result was the brilliant equal of the versions I’d had before, the whole generously-portioned dish receiving, as it has always done, a mysterious lift from a generous allocation of a lovely garlicky aioli.
Catherine's first selection were the salt cod buñuelos; round, deep fried balls of salt cod, mashed potato and garlic, which were soft and moreish. Her second choice turned out ironically to be the only minor disappointment, the Catalan scouse. Having loved the dish at last year’s food festival and then at the restaurant's gourmet evening, I was pleased to see it on the menu but for whatever reason - there was a slight difference in look and possibly a slight change in recipe - while perfectly tasty, for both Catherine and I it failed to hit those same heights and left us underwhelmed.
Whilst approaching full, both of us felt there was sufficient room in the separate stomach compartment reserved for pudding to share the chocolate fondant. I was particularly interested in the specified use of paprika, as having had, and enjoyed to varying levels, chilli chocolate, it seems to be a difficult balance to stop the heat overpowering the chocolate. Any fear was unfounded though as, without wishing to sound like Gregg Wallace, it proved a gooey delight with a barely detectable understated warmth running through it.
Topped off by an excellent Navajas Tinto rioja, I would say without hyperbole that it was as good a three-course meal as I personally have had in the city in my years living here. And I can assure you that is a lot of food….
Liverpool One,
Liverpool,
L1 3DS
website
Never one to turn down the opportunity for a free or reduced meal, I was more than happy to assist Catherine in utilising the Lunya vouchers she’d received for her birthday to road test their new Spring/Summer menu. Arriving for the early evening sitting, the restaurant was nicely busy, with a couple of the parties clearly having enjoyed Ladies Day at Aintree. After the obligatory pint of Estrella to accompany a brief perusal of the menu, I decided to deviate from my normal selection of three or four different tapas dishes in order to try a larger dish that I had recommended on Facebook and Twitter when an appeal was made for ideas for dishes for the new season.
To start with though, I went for the one stone cold certainty on the menu: Monte Enebro goat’s cheese deep-fried and ordered with a side of sourdough bread. The soft bread was an ideal accompaniment to the stunning cheese, apparently a multi award winner over the years.
Catherine opted to have one tapa followed by two more when I got my ‘main’. She began with Mediterranean vegetable tempura, which, as with the Monte Enebro, benefited from a light, unobtrusive batter and which worked well its dipping sauce.
For main I went for an option from the list of paella dishes. Arroz negro is a dish I have loved when I’ve tried it in Valencia and more recently in Seville and which I’d not seen on a menu in Liverpool, hence my one-man electronic campaign to get Lunya to serve it. It was a mixture of joy and relief then that the end result was the brilliant equal of the versions I’d had before, the whole generously-portioned dish receiving, as it has always done, a mysterious lift from a generous allocation of a lovely garlicky aioli.
Catherine's first selection were the salt cod buñuelos; round, deep fried balls of salt cod, mashed potato and garlic, which were soft and moreish. Her second choice turned out ironically to be the only minor disappointment, the Catalan scouse. Having loved the dish at last year’s food festival and then at the restaurant's gourmet evening, I was pleased to see it on the menu but for whatever reason - there was a slight difference in look and possibly a slight change in recipe - while perfectly tasty, for both Catherine and I it failed to hit those same heights and left us underwhelmed.
Whilst approaching full, both of us felt there was sufficient room in the separate stomach compartment reserved for pudding to share the chocolate fondant. I was particularly interested in the specified use of paprika, as having had, and enjoyed to varying levels, chilli chocolate, it seems to be a difficult balance to stop the heat overpowering the chocolate. Any fear was unfounded though as, without wishing to sound like Gregg Wallace, it proved a gooey delight with a barely detectable understated warmth running through it.
Topped off by an excellent Navajas Tinto rioja, I would say without hyperbole that it was as good a three-course meal as I personally have had in the city in my years living here. And I can assure you that is a lot of food….
Saturday 2 April 2011
Great Liverpool Songs #2
Nick Saunders - 'Resonance'
I first came across Nick Saunders on the 'Great Liverpool Acoustic Experiment' compilation album, from which this track is taken. Information is scarce on him; he now lives in Devon having moved down from Liverpool, and in 2006 released the album 'Resonance', which featured an updated and, dare I say it, slightly more clinical, over-produced version of the song. Overall though, the album is enjoyable, especially the track 'Descending' and well worth a purchase.
The influence of Nick Drake, notably in the guitar work, runs through much of Saunders' work and this particular choice is no exception. The beautiful understated orchestration and warm vocals are the perfect antidote to the stress of watching Everton's walking wounded briefly contemplate beating the never less than irritating Aston Villa...
I first came across Nick Saunders on the 'Great Liverpool Acoustic Experiment' compilation album, from which this track is taken. Information is scarce on him; he now lives in Devon having moved down from Liverpool, and in 2006 released the album 'Resonance', which featured an updated and, dare I say it, slightly more clinical, over-produced version of the song. Overall though, the album is enjoyable, especially the track 'Descending' and well worth a purchase.
The influence of Nick Drake, notably in the guitar work, runs through much of Saunders' work and this particular choice is no exception. The beautiful understated orchestration and warm vocals are the perfect antidote to the stress of watching Everton's walking wounded briefly contemplate beating the never less than irritating Aston Villa...
Monday 21 March 2011
Beach Boyes-esque: 5 great records with a Beach Boys influence
The Explorers Club - If You Go
Although veering a touch too close to direct pastiche on some tracks, The Explorers Club’s debut album was a broadly successful effort in recreating the feel of early Beach Boys recordings, particularly when broaching the innocence of teenage love in tracks such as ‘Hold Me Tight’, ‘I Lost my Head’ and ‘Forever’. The standout track however is the gorgeous ‘If You Go’, the hushed harmonies and lovely “I thought I heard you call my name’’ ending evoking the spirit of a ‘Please Let Me Wonder’ or ‘She Knows Me Too Well’.
The Pearlfishers - David vs Godzilla
Scottish acts such as Teenage Fanclub and BMX Bandits have never hidden their admiration for Brian Wilson’s work. Although maybe not as well known, Glasgow's The Pearlf'ishers also wear his influence like a badge throughout albums such as 'The Young Picnickers' and 'Across the Milkyway'. ‘David vs Godzilla’ (an outtake from the British release of the former) is an outstanding example of their art, a dreamy backing track and tender lyrics floating across four and half minutes of your life.
Tony Rivers & The Castaways - Summer Dreaming
The Beach Boys’ influence on others was, in some cases, almost instantaneous. British-based Tony Rivers and The Castaways - for whom the influence extended to covering a number of early Beach Boys efforts - never achieved success despite releasing a handful of singles for EMI in the mid 1960's. One of their unreleased tracks was ‘Summer Dreaming’, a tremendous piece of pop worthy of the Beach Boys, Jan and Dean or any of the other acts trying to encapsulate the sound of the time . Rivers went on to sing the theme to 'Whatever Happened to the Likely Lads' for all you mundane fact fans out there.
Hal - Worry About The Wind
Emerging around the same time as fellow Irish, West Coast Americana obsessives The Thrills, HAL’s eponymous well-received 2004 debut was partly a large nod to the 1970’s and albums such as ‘Sunflower’ and ‘Wild Honey’. The gentle, falsetto-led ‘Worry about the Wind’ was the record’s superb lead single. Despite occasional mentions and promises in interviews since 2004, a second album has never emerged and, as with The Thrills, the band appears to have shuffled into obscurity.
Band of Horses - On My Way Back Home
And finally an effort from Band of Horses that keeps attempting to break into ‘Sloop John B’ but never quite manages it. Nice instrumentation mind.
Although veering a touch too close to direct pastiche on some tracks, The Explorers Club’s debut album was a broadly successful effort in recreating the feel of early Beach Boys recordings, particularly when broaching the innocence of teenage love in tracks such as ‘Hold Me Tight’, ‘I Lost my Head’ and ‘Forever’. The standout track however is the gorgeous ‘If You Go’, the hushed harmonies and lovely “I thought I heard you call my name’’ ending evoking the spirit of a ‘Please Let Me Wonder’ or ‘She Knows Me Too Well’.
The Pearlfishers - David vs Godzilla
Scottish acts such as Teenage Fanclub and BMX Bandits have never hidden their admiration for Brian Wilson’s work. Although maybe not as well known, Glasgow's The Pearlf'ishers also wear his influence like a badge throughout albums such as 'The Young Picnickers' and 'Across the Milkyway'. ‘David vs Godzilla’ (an outtake from the British release of the former) is an outstanding example of their art, a dreamy backing track and tender lyrics floating across four and half minutes of your life.
Tony Rivers & The Castaways - Summer Dreaming
The Beach Boys’ influence on others was, in some cases, almost instantaneous. British-based Tony Rivers and The Castaways - for whom the influence extended to covering a number of early Beach Boys efforts - never achieved success despite releasing a handful of singles for EMI in the mid 1960's. One of their unreleased tracks was ‘Summer Dreaming’, a tremendous piece of pop worthy of the Beach Boys, Jan and Dean or any of the other acts trying to encapsulate the sound of the time . Rivers went on to sing the theme to 'Whatever Happened to the Likely Lads' for all you mundane fact fans out there.
Hal - Worry About The Wind
Emerging around the same time as fellow Irish, West Coast Americana obsessives The Thrills, HAL’s eponymous well-received 2004 debut was partly a large nod to the 1970’s and albums such as ‘Sunflower’ and ‘Wild Honey’. The gentle, falsetto-led ‘Worry about the Wind’ was the record’s superb lead single. Despite occasional mentions and promises in interviews since 2004, a second album has never emerged and, as with The Thrills, the band appears to have shuffled into obscurity.
Band of Horses - On My Way Back Home
And finally an effort from Band of Horses that keeps attempting to break into ‘Sloop John B’ but never quite manages it. Nice instrumentation mind.
Friday 11 March 2011
Random great Everton goals #9
Kevin Sheedy - Everton v Manchester City
Goodison Park, January 13, 1991
The subject of left sided midfielders seemed grimly appropriate, given that an injury to Mikel Arteta on Wednesday night effectively signalled the end of the season, bar the opportunity to possibly bloody the noses of Chelsea and Manchester City in the remaining games. Therefore, here is a goal against the latter, long before they adopted their tramp with a scratchcard persona. Sheedy was by this time coming to the end of a Goodison career that boasted an absurd number of quality strikes and this one - at around 1m55 - coming in an early game of the reign of HKII (note his use of 4-5-1 you two striker nazis..), is right out of the cliched top drawer.
Goodison Park, January 13, 1991
The subject of left sided midfielders seemed grimly appropriate, given that an injury to Mikel Arteta on Wednesday night effectively signalled the end of the season, bar the opportunity to possibly bloody the noses of Chelsea and Manchester City in the remaining games. Therefore, here is a goal against the latter, long before they adopted their tramp with a scratchcard persona. Sheedy was by this time coming to the end of a Goodison career that boasted an absurd number of quality strikes and this one - at around 1m55 - coming in an early game of the reign of HKII (note his use of 4-5-1 you two striker nazis..), is right out of the cliched top drawer.
Sunday 6 March 2011
Any More Pi?
Pi
24 Rose Lane, L18 5ED
website
If you ignore the axis of twattery - Yates's, New York etc - at one end, Allerton Road is not a bad place at all for a night out. Schmooze, Penny Lane Wine Bar and The Tavern are all decent places for a beer and mercifully light on the type of arsehole that can make town such a minefield at times. What it has lacked however is a Ship and Mitre-type establishment for those of us for whom the aim is not just intoxication but intoxication via a dizzying array of quality options. Welcome Pi on Rose Lane then, which boasts anywhere between eight and ten draught beers and apparently around sixty global bottled beers.
The other main lovely feature of Pi is that while busy on a weekend evening, it is still relatively undiscovered by the local idiot, thus this Sunday lunchtime the wife and I were able to peruse their free Sunday papers for accounts of Everton's latest vaguely surprising result in the most schizophrenic of seasons pretty much undisturbed. In preparation for two TV matches in the afternoon, I opted for a Blanche de Bruxelles white beer followed by a pint of excellent Brooklyn lager.
Pi offers a range of four different pies to accompany the beer. Being the girly liberal bedwetter I am, I went for a goat's cheese, spinach and sweet potato pie, while Catherine opted the beef and ale pie with carrots and thyme. Both came with mash and we had a jug of slightly watery gravy on the side. Both were more than decent, particularly Catherine's, and were reasonably priced at just over a fiver each.
Nicely full, I got back to lie on the couch to gently doze, while watching Manchester United turn in the kind of gutless, bottle job performance at Anfield that even Everton have barely touched the depths of in recent years.
24 Rose Lane, L18 5ED
website
If you ignore the axis of twattery - Yates's, New York etc - at one end, Allerton Road is not a bad place at all for a night out. Schmooze, Penny Lane Wine Bar and The Tavern are all decent places for a beer and mercifully light on the type of arsehole that can make town such a minefield at times. What it has lacked however is a Ship and Mitre-type establishment for those of us for whom the aim is not just intoxication but intoxication via a dizzying array of quality options. Welcome Pi on Rose Lane then, which boasts anywhere between eight and ten draught beers and apparently around sixty global bottled beers.
The other main lovely feature of Pi is that while busy on a weekend evening, it is still relatively undiscovered by the local idiot, thus this Sunday lunchtime the wife and I were able to peruse their free Sunday papers for accounts of Everton's latest vaguely surprising result in the most schizophrenic of seasons pretty much undisturbed. In preparation for two TV matches in the afternoon, I opted for a Blanche de Bruxelles white beer followed by a pint of excellent Brooklyn lager.
Pi offers a range of four different pies to accompany the beer. Being the girly liberal bedwetter I am, I went for a goat's cheese, spinach and sweet potato pie, while Catherine opted the beef and ale pie with carrots and thyme. Both came with mash and we had a jug of slightly watery gravy on the side. Both were more than decent, particularly Catherine's, and were reasonably priced at just over a fiver each.
Nicely full, I got back to lie on the couch to gently doze, while watching Manchester United turn in the kind of gutless, bottle job performance at Anfield that even Everton have barely touched the depths of in recent years.
Tuesday 15 February 2011
5 non-Everton footballing heroes
I have previously professed my admiration for the greatest goalkeeper ever seen, and would always consider him my overall footballing idol. Growing up though I was overwhelmingly obsessive about the game in general until far too late – for normal social interaction - into my teens and would embrace the (relatively rare compared to now) opportunity to watch any game deemed worthy of televising. I therefore developed affection for a number of individuals never lucky enough to wear the Royal Blue, foremost among them being the following five:
Roberto Baggio
Channel Four’s foresight in buying the rights to Italian football in 1992 was, for young nerds like me, a wonderful innovation. Saturation coverage of many European leagues now have encouraged a sense of complacency and near boredom about the opportunity to see the world’s best players week in, week out, but at the time it was superbly exciting given that an air of mystery still hung around players you would only ever see in international tournaments. As a result of this revolution though, a generation of kids grew up extolling the virtues of Ruben Sosa, Beppe Signori, Giuseppe Giannini and countless other glamorous players who appeared miles removed from the crash, bang, wallop nature of grey English football (the only Italian imported around this time was Andrea Silenzi, their equivalent of Kevin Kyle). Better kits, sunshine, ace hair and James Richardson with pink newspapers and ice creams – it had it all. Everyone had a favourite player. For me, it was Baggio all the way.
Having come to attention with a big money move from Fiorentina and a memorable goal in the 1990 World Cup, he was clearly gifted and, as with other number 10s of this Serie A era, strolled around with a style and finesse that screamed confidence. But there was also an appealing fragility that suggested disappointment was around the corner, sadly borne out by the 1994 World Cup. Half fit and labouring, he almost single-handedly dragged an average Italy side through to the final before enduring a spectacular Al-Pacino-in-Scarface-type climax by spectacularly blazing over the deciding spot kick in the shoot out. Even Diana Ross thought it was a shit pen. When the tournament is recalled it is Roberto, hands on hips and utterly alone, staring fixedly at the spot, who provides the enduring image, rather than the celebrating Brazilians. Unlike his successor at Juventus, Alessandro Del Piero, who atoned for misses in the 2000 European Championship final by helping to win the World Cup in 2006, Baggio never achieved redemption. But he was still ace and my eventual realisation that we would never sign him, despite a cruel, vague tabloid link around the time he played for Brescia, was a disappointment.
Istvan Kozma
A real nostalgia selection. Half of my family being Scottish, trips were frequently made to Fife in the late eighties and early nineties to see my grandparents. My grandfather was a keen Dunfermline fan and while my dad often took my brother to Edinburgh to watch Hearts, I would walk the short distance through the park with my granddad to East End Park and watch a side shuttling between the top two divisions that for a while featured agricultural centre back David Moyes. The standout attraction for me at that time was Kozma, a lovely, graceful footballer at times seeming out of place when compared with the style of many of the teams he came up against. My one vivid recollection of him was being sat with my granddad, with my dad and brother suffering in the away end, watching him torture Hearts in a comfortable Premier League victory. His performances against Rangers convinced Graeme Souness to make him part of his glorious Anfield revolution, but he made no impact, often featuring in Liverpool worst buy lists. Which makes me like him more.
Josimar
In all honesty, his selection is probably as much a reflection of the tournament in which he came to prominence as for the man himself. I think it’s a truism that your favourite World Cup is your first. That is certainly the case for me, nearly seven and half years old in 1986. Looking back, my memories are fragmented – the time difference to Mexico meant that on many occasions my mum would come up the stairs and find that my efforts to defy orders and watch the 9pm matches on the little TV in my room had ended with me fast asleep with my head on my desk. But I was essentially a blank canvas, my love for Everton and football in general only properly having come to fruition through my desperation at Everton’s Cup Final defeat a month earlier. Such was the fickleness of being that age that domestic football concerns were almost instantly buried by wallcharts and the most important playground currency of them all: stickers. Once the tournament began it became a blur of goals, colour, exotic names and countries; Vasily Rats, Morocco, Preben Elkjær, Iraq, Joel Bats, Bulgaria, Steve Hodge, the list just went on. Until Diego grabbed my attention later on in the month, it was Josimar I became fixated with. A rampaging right back in a Brazilian side characteristically unconcerned by the boring art of defending, his standout moment was beating Pat Jennings from about 70 yards, the ball dropping beautifully into the great, yawning net. As if that wasn’t good enough, he scored another stunning goal a few days later against Poland, both goals being greeted with Tardelli-esque celebrations. He only made 16 appearances for Brazil but for me epitomises the glory of discovering the World Cup.
Matt Le Tissier
Workshy? Not ambitious enough? Maybe. But in an era where every player stringing together a few reasonable performances suddenly feels they ‘need’ Champions League football to achieve their ‘aims’ and ‘progress’ as players, there is something to admire in the attitude shown by Le Tissier. Undeniably capable of playing for better teams than Southampton but loved his environment and the club and felt no need to risk that for the sake of a bit more money. He had faults; he probably needed to have a team built round him, didn’t like tackling back and was not quick. But with the ball at his feet in the opposition’s half? Superb. I can’t help but enjoy the languid, lazy majesty of his goals, even if half the time his caressing of the ball into the net is probably because he couldn’t be arsed putting his foot through it.
Xavi
The only contemporary player on the list, and a player now considered among the most important midfielders in Europe. The man who completed more passes in the home game against Arsenal last season than Arsenal’s whole team managed. The man that even the Daily Mail, who initially inexplicably rubbished him, has come round to admire. But I first noticed him when he was by no means the first name on the team sheet, back in 2003. Over in Barcelona for a midweek trip, we had tickets for their dead rubber Champions League group game against Bayer Leverkusen. Settling in a bar near the ground before the game, over exposure to the six or seven draught beers on offer resulted in my remembering only two things about the match. The first was how bright the floodlights were for some reason. The second was how artfully the little midfielder, who barely seemed to move out of the centre circle, effortlessly controlled and moved the ball without anyone getting within twenty yards of him, in a manner I’ve only seen done live since by Juan Roman Riquelme at Goodison.
Roberto Baggio
Channel Four’s foresight in buying the rights to Italian football in 1992 was, for young nerds like me, a wonderful innovation. Saturation coverage of many European leagues now have encouraged a sense of complacency and near boredom about the opportunity to see the world’s best players week in, week out, but at the time it was superbly exciting given that an air of mystery still hung around players you would only ever see in international tournaments. As a result of this revolution though, a generation of kids grew up extolling the virtues of Ruben Sosa, Beppe Signori, Giuseppe Giannini and countless other glamorous players who appeared miles removed from the crash, bang, wallop nature of grey English football (the only Italian imported around this time was Andrea Silenzi, their equivalent of Kevin Kyle). Better kits, sunshine, ace hair and James Richardson with pink newspapers and ice creams – it had it all. Everyone had a favourite player. For me, it was Baggio all the way.
Having come to attention with a big money move from Fiorentina and a memorable goal in the 1990 World Cup, he was clearly gifted and, as with other number 10s of this Serie A era, strolled around with a style and finesse that screamed confidence. But there was also an appealing fragility that suggested disappointment was around the corner, sadly borne out by the 1994 World Cup. Half fit and labouring, he almost single-handedly dragged an average Italy side through to the final before enduring a spectacular Al-Pacino-in-Scarface-type climax by spectacularly blazing over the deciding spot kick in the shoot out. Even Diana Ross thought it was a shit pen. When the tournament is recalled it is Roberto, hands on hips and utterly alone, staring fixedly at the spot, who provides the enduring image, rather than the celebrating Brazilians. Unlike his successor at Juventus, Alessandro Del Piero, who atoned for misses in the 2000 European Championship final by helping to win the World Cup in 2006, Baggio never achieved redemption. But he was still ace and my eventual realisation that we would never sign him, despite a cruel, vague tabloid link around the time he played for Brescia, was a disappointment.
Istvan Kozma
A real nostalgia selection. Half of my family being Scottish, trips were frequently made to Fife in the late eighties and early nineties to see my grandparents. My grandfather was a keen Dunfermline fan and while my dad often took my brother to Edinburgh to watch Hearts, I would walk the short distance through the park with my granddad to East End Park and watch a side shuttling between the top two divisions that for a while featured agricultural centre back David Moyes. The standout attraction for me at that time was Kozma, a lovely, graceful footballer at times seeming out of place when compared with the style of many of the teams he came up against. My one vivid recollection of him was being sat with my granddad, with my dad and brother suffering in the away end, watching him torture Hearts in a comfortable Premier League victory. His performances against Rangers convinced Graeme Souness to make him part of his glorious Anfield revolution, but he made no impact, often featuring in Liverpool worst buy lists. Which makes me like him more.
Josimar
In all honesty, his selection is probably as much a reflection of the tournament in which he came to prominence as for the man himself. I think it’s a truism that your favourite World Cup is your first. That is certainly the case for me, nearly seven and half years old in 1986. Looking back, my memories are fragmented – the time difference to Mexico meant that on many occasions my mum would come up the stairs and find that my efforts to defy orders and watch the 9pm matches on the little TV in my room had ended with me fast asleep with my head on my desk. But I was essentially a blank canvas, my love for Everton and football in general only properly having come to fruition through my desperation at Everton’s Cup Final defeat a month earlier. Such was the fickleness of being that age that domestic football concerns were almost instantly buried by wallcharts and the most important playground currency of them all: stickers. Once the tournament began it became a blur of goals, colour, exotic names and countries; Vasily Rats, Morocco, Preben Elkjær, Iraq, Joel Bats, Bulgaria, Steve Hodge, the list just went on. Until Diego grabbed my attention later on in the month, it was Josimar I became fixated with. A rampaging right back in a Brazilian side characteristically unconcerned by the boring art of defending, his standout moment was beating Pat Jennings from about 70 yards, the ball dropping beautifully into the great, yawning net. As if that wasn’t good enough, he scored another stunning goal a few days later against Poland, both goals being greeted with Tardelli-esque celebrations. He only made 16 appearances for Brazil but for me epitomises the glory of discovering the World Cup.
Matt Le Tissier
Workshy? Not ambitious enough? Maybe. But in an era where every player stringing together a few reasonable performances suddenly feels they ‘need’ Champions League football to achieve their ‘aims’ and ‘progress’ as players, there is something to admire in the attitude shown by Le Tissier. Undeniably capable of playing for better teams than Southampton but loved his environment and the club and felt no need to risk that for the sake of a bit more money. He had faults; he probably needed to have a team built round him, didn’t like tackling back and was not quick. But with the ball at his feet in the opposition’s half? Superb. I can’t help but enjoy the languid, lazy majesty of his goals, even if half the time his caressing of the ball into the net is probably because he couldn’t be arsed putting his foot through it.
Xavi
The only contemporary player on the list, and a player now considered among the most important midfielders in Europe. The man who completed more passes in the home game against Arsenal last season than Arsenal’s whole team managed. The man that even the Daily Mail, who initially inexplicably rubbished him, has come round to admire. But I first noticed him when he was by no means the first name on the team sheet, back in 2003. Over in Barcelona for a midweek trip, we had tickets for their dead rubber Champions League group game against Bayer Leverkusen. Settling in a bar near the ground before the game, over exposure to the six or seven draught beers on offer resulted in my remembering only two things about the match. The first was how bright the floodlights were for some reason. The second was how artfully the little midfielder, who barely seemed to move out of the centre circle, effortlessly controlled and moved the ball without anyone getting within twenty yards of him, in a manner I’ve only seen done live since by Juan Roman Riquelme at Goodison.
Wednesday 2 February 2011
Salt Yard Charcuterie Bar and Restaurant
54 Goodge Street
London
W1T 4NA
website
A trip down to the big smoke for a couple of days to revel in Everton’s entirely predictable, never-ending ability to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory at the Emirates afforded the opportunity for a meal at Salt Yard Tapas, located on Goodge Street. The small bar area was busy for a Monday night and the four of us were taken downstairs to the cosy restaurant area. We decided on a sharing platter of meats and some rillettes with crostini to start, both of which were excellent, to be followed by a very decent selection of many of the various options on the pleasingly compact menu.
The main dishes, for the most part, maintained a very high standard. The jamon croquetas were superb, in no small part due to the manchego contained within, while the 'Gloucester Old Spot' pork belly with cannellini beans was moist and had gratifyingly tasty crackling.
The chargrilled chorizo with marinated peppers was smoky with a lovely substantial kick to it and benefited from the presence of the peppers, while another tapas staple, crispy squid, was lifted above the norm by a powerful and garlic-fuelled shellfish Aioli. One slightly unexpected hit was the light and moreish butternut squash gnocchi with a sage and butter sauce, which had a lovely soft texture.
The dishes were not faultless though. Despite a lovely goat’s cheese stuffing, the courgette flowers tasted slightly underseasoned and were marginally on the bland side of tasty. Similarly two meat dishes almost but didn’t fully hit the mark; an excellent salsa verde didn’t quite rescue the Fillet of Lamb, which didn’t seem well matched with crushed Jerusalem artichokes, and the bavette arrived at the table somewhat late and somewhat tough, although by no means inedible.
Pudding ensured the evening ended well, my excellent cold chocolate and honeycomb fondant was more than rich enough for someone without much of a sweet tooth, and an equally positive report was received on the milk pudding with rhubarb. A varied and well-judged cheese board rounded off an overwhelmingly positive night’s feeding, washed down very nicely by a couple of bottles –between the table - of a decently priced Honoro Vera. Competitively priced and very enjoyable.
London
W1T 4NA
website
A trip down to the big smoke for a couple of days to revel in Everton’s entirely predictable, never-ending ability to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory at the Emirates afforded the opportunity for a meal at Salt Yard Tapas, located on Goodge Street. The small bar area was busy for a Monday night and the four of us were taken downstairs to the cosy restaurant area. We decided on a sharing platter of meats and some rillettes with crostini to start, both of which were excellent, to be followed by a very decent selection of many of the various options on the pleasingly compact menu.
The main dishes, for the most part, maintained a very high standard. The jamon croquetas were superb, in no small part due to the manchego contained within, while the 'Gloucester Old Spot' pork belly with cannellini beans was moist and had gratifyingly tasty crackling.
The chargrilled chorizo with marinated peppers was smoky with a lovely substantial kick to it and benefited from the presence of the peppers, while another tapas staple, crispy squid, was lifted above the norm by a powerful and garlic-fuelled shellfish Aioli. One slightly unexpected hit was the light and moreish butternut squash gnocchi with a sage and butter sauce, which had a lovely soft texture.
The dishes were not faultless though. Despite a lovely goat’s cheese stuffing, the courgette flowers tasted slightly underseasoned and were marginally on the bland side of tasty. Similarly two meat dishes almost but didn’t fully hit the mark; an excellent salsa verde didn’t quite rescue the Fillet of Lamb, which didn’t seem well matched with crushed Jerusalem artichokes, and the bavette arrived at the table somewhat late and somewhat tough, although by no means inedible.
Pudding ensured the evening ended well, my excellent cold chocolate and honeycomb fondant was more than rich enough for someone without much of a sweet tooth, and an equally positive report was received on the milk pudding with rhubarb. A varied and well-judged cheese board rounded off an overwhelmingly positive night’s feeding, washed down very nicely by a couple of bottles –between the table - of a decently priced Honoro Vera. Competitively priced and very enjoyable.
Thursday 27 January 2011
Great Liverpool Songs #1
Michael Head & The Strands - ‘Something Like You’
I have seen Michael and John Head live in their various band incarnations and as solo artists more than anybody else over the years. First alerted to the work of the brothers by positive press in When Skies are Grey, whose online presence is now sadly limited to Twitter, I invested in HMS Fable, which I loved, and worked my way backwards from there to the Pale Fountains. To be frank, aside from one or two notable exceptions such as the sparkling ‘Thank You’ and the cover of Deniece Williams’ ‘Free’, I’ve never really taken to the Pale Fountains for some reason, but the subsequent one-off Michael Head and The Strands album and the Shack recordings, including ‘HMS Fable’ and the brilliant ‘Here’s Tom with the Weather’, are superb. There is some similarity in investing money watching Everton and Mick Head – it would be unfair to bring John into the analogy, as he is rarely less than spot on – live. Very occasionally the whole occasion will be a massive unexpected letdown due to Mick’s well-known love of a drink and stronger, whereas on other instances what you are expecting to be a run of the mill night is lifted into something far more majestic and uplifting. Their lack of fame in the face of many inferior alternatives is maybe just further proof that much of the most worthy art lies on the periphery of popular culture.
From all their recordings, this is my favourite individual track; a lyrically stunning string-led emotive affair, encompassing all that it is great about their work over the years. Although they’ve taken criticism for their continued slavish devotion to the brothers, who both are apparently due to release solo offerings this year, I’m probably one of the few who feels there isn’t enough about them in the average edition of WSAG.
I have seen Michael and John Head live in their various band incarnations and as solo artists more than anybody else over the years. First alerted to the work of the brothers by positive press in When Skies are Grey, whose online presence is now sadly limited to Twitter, I invested in HMS Fable, which I loved, and worked my way backwards from there to the Pale Fountains. To be frank, aside from one or two notable exceptions such as the sparkling ‘Thank You’ and the cover of Deniece Williams’ ‘Free’, I’ve never really taken to the Pale Fountains for some reason, but the subsequent one-off Michael Head and The Strands album and the Shack recordings, including ‘HMS Fable’ and the brilliant ‘Here’s Tom with the Weather’, are superb. There is some similarity in investing money watching Everton and Mick Head – it would be unfair to bring John into the analogy, as he is rarely less than spot on – live. Very occasionally the whole occasion will be a massive unexpected letdown due to Mick’s well-known love of a drink and stronger, whereas on other instances what you are expecting to be a run of the mill night is lifted into something far more majestic and uplifting. Their lack of fame in the face of many inferior alternatives is maybe just further proof that much of the most worthy art lies on the periphery of popular culture.
From all their recordings, this is my favourite individual track; a lyrically stunning string-led emotive affair, encompassing all that it is great about their work over the years. Although they’ve taken criticism for their continued slavish devotion to the brothers, who both are apparently due to release solo offerings this year, I’m probably one of the few who feels there isn’t enough about them in the average edition of WSAG.
Wednesday 19 January 2011
Random great Everton goals #8
Leon Osman - Everton v AE Larissa
Goodison Park, October 25, 2007
At the time of writing there are under two weeks of the two weeks remaining and our financial predicament appears so delicate that any players not nailed down are disappearing to enable the club to try and bring in new faces. While the departures of Yakubu and Vaughan (not confirmed but looking increasingly likely) are lamented; in the case of the former for talent lost through injury, for the latter talent never quite fulfilled due to injury, it is the loss of Steven Pienaar that appears the most wounding for the team. A lovely footballer, whose partnership with Leighton Baines has often, particularly this season, represented the team’s most potent threat, the South African is now subject to the classic jilted-lover supporter revisionism – “he wasn’t that great anyway”. While this is 95% horseshit and doesn’t reflect his tireless contribution over the last three seasons, the only small kernel of a point might be the suggestion that his final ball or shot was too often wasteful, which would appear to be backed up by a mediocre goal return and lack of recorded assists, to use a depressing modern method of player assessment.
Whatever the truth, if Pienaar’s replacement is to come from within the squad then one of the most likely candidates is Leon Osman. In many ways, his performance the 2-2 draw at Anfield on Sunday could be seen as an excellent summary of his curate’s egg Everton career to date. Large stretches of the match were marked by an inability to impose himself on the game, giving the impression that things were just too quick and powerful for him. However, when in possession around the box his quick feet and brain allowed him to cause Liverpool problems, most notably in his perfect hold up and layoff for Jermaine Beckford’s second half goal, a passage of play that caused tight-trousered irritant Jamie Redknapp to correctly (for once) point out that had that been Iniesta or Xavi we would be talking about it for months. In many ways he would be far better suited to a slower, more technical league, and his better performances have often come when he has had more time on the ball as part of a central three man midfield in a 4-5-1, as opposed to stuck out wide on the right where his lack of pace has told. While not ideal, being used as a ‘false’ winger on the left and cutting inside, allowing Baines to bomb past down the wing, would seem an obvious short-term measure for David Moyes, and has already been used to decent effect in a number of the team’s better results this season. This goal from the 2007-8 European campaign is one of the best team goals of recent years and highlights the clear footballing ability the 29 year old possesses.
Goodison Park, October 25, 2007
At the time of writing there are under two weeks of the two weeks remaining and our financial predicament appears so delicate that any players not nailed down are disappearing to enable the club to try and bring in new faces. While the departures of Yakubu and Vaughan (not confirmed but looking increasingly likely) are lamented; in the case of the former for talent lost through injury, for the latter talent never quite fulfilled due to injury, it is the loss of Steven Pienaar that appears the most wounding for the team. A lovely footballer, whose partnership with Leighton Baines has often, particularly this season, represented the team’s most potent threat, the South African is now subject to the classic jilted-lover supporter revisionism – “he wasn’t that great anyway”. While this is 95% horseshit and doesn’t reflect his tireless contribution over the last three seasons, the only small kernel of a point might be the suggestion that his final ball or shot was too often wasteful, which would appear to be backed up by a mediocre goal return and lack of recorded assists, to use a depressing modern method of player assessment.
Whatever the truth, if Pienaar’s replacement is to come from within the squad then one of the most likely candidates is Leon Osman. In many ways, his performance the 2-2 draw at Anfield on Sunday could be seen as an excellent summary of his curate’s egg Everton career to date. Large stretches of the match were marked by an inability to impose himself on the game, giving the impression that things were just too quick and powerful for him. However, when in possession around the box his quick feet and brain allowed him to cause Liverpool problems, most notably in his perfect hold up and layoff for Jermaine Beckford’s second half goal, a passage of play that caused tight-trousered irritant Jamie Redknapp to correctly (for once) point out that had that been Iniesta or Xavi we would be talking about it for months. In many ways he would be far better suited to a slower, more technical league, and his better performances have often come when he has had more time on the ball as part of a central three man midfield in a 4-5-1, as opposed to stuck out wide on the right where his lack of pace has told. While not ideal, being used as a ‘false’ winger on the left and cutting inside, allowing Baines to bomb past down the wing, would seem an obvious short-term measure for David Moyes, and has already been used to decent effect in a number of the team’s better results this season. This goal from the 2007-8 European campaign is one of the best team goals of recent years and highlights the clear footballing ability the 29 year old possesses.
Monday 17 January 2011
Across 110th Street (1972)
Recommended on Amazon as a blaxploitation classic, I added Across 110th Street to my Christmas list, despite knowing little more than it had a soundtrack penned by Bobby Womack and featured the ageless and superb Yaphet Kotto as the young, liberal Lieutenant Pope. Pope is forced to team up with the older, tired Captain Mattelli (Anthony Quinn) when a $300,000 money exchange between two Mafioso and three Harlem blacks is hijacked by three robbers - one of whom, Antonio Fargas, is so annoying he might as well be holding an badly written banner and singing 'Poor Scouser Tommy' - who kill the five, and two police officers during their getaway. Pope and Mattelli attempt to reach these three before the unholy alliance of local Harlem crime boss Doc Johnson (the excellent Richard Ward) and wannabe Mafia don Nick D'Salvio (Anthony Franciosa) catch them first.
Almost unremittingly dark in tone, the film is a real period piece; both in terms of its portrayal of the sometimes brutal life on the Harlem streets, and the changing face of the NYPD. The film came hard on the heels of the Knapp Commission and reflects the internal divisions experienced as the force began to attempt to clean itself up, no more so than in the scene where Doc Johnson reveals to the newcomer Pope that Mattelli has been in his pay for a number of years, but fails to reach the same arrangement with Pope. The relationship between Pope and Mattelli also characterises the growing changes, the modern-thinking Pope (a relative rookie promoted, in Mattelli's eyes, through positive discrimination) horrified by a battle-hardened Mattelli's efforts to coerce information from suspects through overt violence, a juxtaposition revisited recently in 'Life on Mars'. The theme of racism also runs strongly through the whole film, whether underlying, as with Pope and Martelli, or in the disparaging and uneasy relationship between the Harlem blacks and the Mafia, which simmers with distrust.
Despite one or two flaws - the ending is a bit contrived and some of the acting a bit hammy, particularly in the slightly cartoony Mafia gang, this is a broadly superb piece with well-rounded characters - even the cold-eyed and ruthless John Harris (Paul Benjamin), the most vicious member of the three man robbery team is given a shred of humanity. At the price of a pint of Peroni from Amazon and others, it's well worth a look, standing up well against 'Dirty Harry' and other cop movies of the time.
Thursday 6 January 2011
5 Talk Sport irritants
Like the Daily Mail online edition, Talk Sport has become an unavoidable part of my daily routine that I can’t quite shake off. And, whisper it quietly, some of it is good. Paul Hawksbee and Andy Jacobs’ show on a weekday afternoon is, by virtue of not taking it too seriously, funny and genuinely interesting at times. Similarly, the brilliant Danny Kelly appears to be unable to find a permanent slot in the schedule but regularly pops up like a chubby supply teacher and is often an eloquent, lone voice against the ‘Premiership is biggest and best’ bandwagon. And, although an utter tool, I have a certain grim admiration for Adrian Durham’s seemingly unending ability to adopt a hardline view that he appears to seriously believe for whatever issue he needs to get people to call in on (at premium rate), especially having held the exact opposite position two days earlier. But to get to the better stuff, there is much shite to endure:
MICKY QUINN
‘Everyone’s favourite Scouser’ is how one of the station’s trails describes him, although this is no truer than Ian Huntley being ‘everyone’s favourite caretaker’. A clear advocate of the concept that bluster and volume is preferable to intelligence and analysis, he wears his Liver bird close to his chest and is a persistent exponent of the tiresome ‘we won it five times, the Kop speaks as one, we don’t sack managers, unique atmosphere, best supporters in the weeerld’ horseshit heard from pub bores in ecru away kits the length and breadth of the world. And Alvin Martin is no better.
DARREN GOUGH
Living proof of the ever-increasing depressing trend toward employing former sportsmen before first checking they can speak coherently (on which note Sky must surely be receiving a grant or fulfilling a quota by giving Dean Windass air time) Gough appears barely capable of sustaining a consistent point of view through a three hour show, during which he is careful not to insult anyone he may bump into on the ‘celebrity’ circuit. Makes Ian Wright seem like John Arlott.
MARK SAGGERS
Co-host of the weekend breakfast show with Micky Quinn and anchor of much of the weeknight output. Came across quite well while performing a similar role at Radio 5, elevating himself in the minds of most right-thinking people by his clear dislike of Alan ‘this is woeful’ Green. However, on arrival at TS was clearly told he needed to be more opinionated, which he is not remotely suited to. His ‘oh get on with it’ outburst at the staggered announcement of the 2022 World Cup hosts, in reaction to England not getting 2018 a few minutes earlier (despite England being in his opinion the only show in town because, well, ‘we’re England’), was pure, unfiltered, glorious Partridge.
MIKE PARRY
Almost single handedly ruining the name of Everton fans every time he opens his mouth, his mid morning show is a great clunking mess of a current issues discussion show, seemingly sponsored by The Sun, in which little Englander Parry attempts to win arguments by making words up and taking up entrenched positions too odd to make for a proper debate. Still miles better than predecessor Jon ‘Political Correctness gone mad’ Gaunt, the obnoxious love child of Richard Littlejohn and Margaret Thatcher.
RONNIE IRANI
See Darren Gough
MICKY QUINN
‘Everyone’s favourite Scouser’ is how one of the station’s trails describes him, although this is no truer than Ian Huntley being ‘everyone’s favourite caretaker’. A clear advocate of the concept that bluster and volume is preferable to intelligence and analysis, he wears his Liver bird close to his chest and is a persistent exponent of the tiresome ‘we won it five times, the Kop speaks as one, we don’t sack managers, unique atmosphere, best supporters in the weeerld’ horseshit heard from pub bores in ecru away kits the length and breadth of the world. And Alvin Martin is no better.
DARREN GOUGH
Living proof of the ever-increasing depressing trend toward employing former sportsmen before first checking they can speak coherently (on which note Sky must surely be receiving a grant or fulfilling a quota by giving Dean Windass air time) Gough appears barely capable of sustaining a consistent point of view through a three hour show, during which he is careful not to insult anyone he may bump into on the ‘celebrity’ circuit. Makes Ian Wright seem like John Arlott.
MARK SAGGERS
Co-host of the weekend breakfast show with Micky Quinn and anchor of much of the weeknight output. Came across quite well while performing a similar role at Radio 5, elevating himself in the minds of most right-thinking people by his clear dislike of Alan ‘this is woeful’ Green. However, on arrival at TS was clearly told he needed to be more opinionated, which he is not remotely suited to. His ‘oh get on with it’ outburst at the staggered announcement of the 2022 World Cup hosts, in reaction to England not getting 2018 a few minutes earlier (despite England being in his opinion the only show in town because, well, ‘we’re England’), was pure, unfiltered, glorious Partridge.
MIKE PARRY
Almost single handedly ruining the name of Everton fans every time he opens his mouth, his mid morning show is a great clunking mess of a current issues discussion show, seemingly sponsored by The Sun, in which little Englander Parry attempts to win arguments by making words up and taking up entrenched positions too odd to make for a proper debate. Still miles better than predecessor Jon ‘Political Correctness gone mad’ Gaunt, the obnoxious love child of Richard Littlejohn and Margaret Thatcher.
RONNIE IRANI
See Darren Gough
Wednesday 5 January 2011
Gerry Rafferty (1947-2011)
"Whatever’s written in your heart, that’s all that matters
You’ll find a way to say it all someday"
Having written of my admiration for Gerry Rafferty before, I was sad to hear of his death yesterday. The many obituaries that have appeared in the last few hours will no doubt do him better justice than I can, but I would say only that hopefully the coverage following his passing will inspire a few people not overly familiar with him to download or pick up a copy of ‘City to City’ and ‘Night Owl’ (surely due a proper release on CD) and enjoy the man at his peak.
You’ll find a way to say it all someday"
Having written of my admiration for Gerry Rafferty before, I was sad to hear of his death yesterday. The many obituaries that have appeared in the last few hours will no doubt do him better justice than I can, but I would say only that hopefully the coverage following his passing will inspire a few people not overly familiar with him to download or pick up a copy of ‘City to City’ and ‘Night Owl’ (surely due a proper release on CD) and enjoy the man at his peak.
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