152 The Spanish Armada

Putting any money on Spain to win a major tournament has long been about as lucrative as buying shares in a football club. Come every major international tournament, it can be guaranteed that many will consider Spain among the potential winners. Yet, despite traditionally qualifying with ease, the Spaniards are perpetual under-achievers when it comes to performing at major tournaments. The excuse is often that many Catalans and Basques are indifferent when it comes to the national side, and that club football takes precedence.



However, there is real cause for optimism for Senor Inaki Saez and his boys this time as far as the Euro 2004 finals in Portugal are concerned. Having seen their club sides usurp the Italians as the dominant force in European club football over the last few seasons, the Spanish now appear to have all the attributes required to finally make an impact at international level.



Having been promoted from the Under-21 manager to replace the recently resigned Camacho, Saez has inherited an excellent and predominantly young squad. The confidence and experience gained from the success of the likes of Real Madrid, Barcelona, Deportivo La Coruna, Valencia and others could prove invaluable. In tandem with an immensely gifted squad, Spain look a tremendous bet to mount a serious challenge to the likes of France, Holland, England (according to the expectations of our press), Italy, Germany and the Portuguese hosts (I would personally consider the Czech Republic and Turkey to be lively outsiders).



The problem for Spain over recent years has been the in-balance of the squad, with the team frequently made up of a mix of the world class and the workmanlike. Now though, there is a wealth of talent from which Saez can choose, especially with club sides increasingly prepared to give young players first team opportunities in the light of the recent downturn in transfer activity.



With the possible exception of Oliver Kahn, there can surely be few better keepers than Valencia's Canizares? Like Kahn, Canizares is a keeper who always seems to rise to the big occasion. In reserve, Saez can call on the likes of the 21 year old Real Madrid keeper Casillas (who has already made around 20 national team appearances - a figure that Sven-Goran Eriksson should perhaps note?), Deportivo's Molina and, possibly, Manchester United's Ricardo as back-up.



Following the post-World Cup retirements from the international scene of Hierro and Nadal, it would be fair to say that the central defence is still in need of a dominant figure. The likes of Real Madrid's Helguera (though better as a holding player in front of the back four), Barcelona's Puyol and Atletico Madrid's Garcia Calvo are capable of shutting out most opposition attacks. The one thing the Spanish do possess in abundance is a number of big occasion players. Manuel Pablo, when fit, is possibly the finest right-back in the game. In his absence, Real's Salgado is a decent enough deputy. Fellow Real defender Raul Bravo, Deportivo's Romero and Cesar, Tellez of Alaves and Celta Vigo's Jaunfran are others in contention at the back.



The midfield is where the Spanish look particularly awesome. The loss through retirement of the superb Luis Enrique (a player without equal in his versatility) would be a major blow to most teams, but the Spanish have a plethora of options in midfield - Deportivo playmaker Valeron; the Barca pairing of Mendieta and Xavi; Joaquin and Capi from Real Betis and Baraja, Albelda and Vicente from Valencia.



The fact thattBaraja has become an influential figure at both club and international level is testament to both himself and former Valencia boss Hector Cuper. It wasn't so long ago that he was only an occasional member of a relegation bound Atletico Madrid team. In 20-year olds Joaquin and Vicente, Saez has natural width down either flank, both of whom are comfortable taking on and beating defenders.



Raul, despite being only 25 years old, has long been Spain's main striker, although he now has a top quality partner in Diego Tristan. Despite an injury record that makes Darren Anderton look like a regular starter, Morientes has an excellent goals per game ratio. Real's Guti and Deportivo's new recruit, Luque, offer further options. Then there are the heirs apparent to Raul's crown, in his young clubmate Javier Portillo and neighbouring Atletico's Fernando Torres.



The Spanish are surely due to add to their one major triumph in Euro 64. This might just be the time that they finally deliver the goods.



Prospective line-up

Canizares


Manuel Pablo Puyol Helguera Romero


Joaquin Baraja Valeron Vicente


Raul Tristan

150 Harry Flatcap attempts to esca

Once again my weekly column reaches you via Florida State Penitentiary,
where I’m still held in respect of the financial scandal relating to the
Florida Worldcoms soccer team. I’m innocent, and as soon as I have an
attorney assigned to me, I’m sure I’ll be released.



Things have turned full circle for me in here over the last week. When I
last corresponded to the Squarefootball editor I explained how little time
we were allowed out of our cells and how my cellmates were not a small
amount on the scary side. I was relieved to be told that we would be
allowed some exercise time. Two hours out “in the yard” as the residents
call it, though it doesn’t much look like a yard to me on account of the
cinder and dirt you trample aimlessly under your feet as you shuffle around
outside. This was then taken away from me for 24 hours as I was locked in
the “hole”, re-emerging yesterday back to the 23 hours of captivity with my
menacing new buddies. Let me explain my week in further detail.



Unleashed and out into the wilds of the yard, and a whole new world
surrounded me. Criminal underclass, murderers, very nasty men indeed
surrounded me as I entered the yard for the first time. This did not daunt
me excessively as I have been to the Den, but I must say I could think of
many places I’d prefer to be. I decided my best form of survival would be to team up with Mr. Leppok, my old boss at the soccer club prior to us both becoming incarcerated here in the Penitentiary. Strangely Mr. Leppok seems to be avoiding me, perhaps worrying that two blokes looking pally together gives off the wrong vibes in such a rough environment.



I was therefore cutting a solitary figure, strolling around close to the prison boundaries when my path forwards became abruptly halted by an outstretched heavily tattooed arm falling across my chest. The fist was ominously curled tight.



“Hey, limey boy. I here you involved in soccer when you not here.”



“Er, yes, you may have heard of me. Harry Flatcap.”



“No.”



“Oh, er.”



“But we can sure use you here.”



It transpired the man with the grotesquely copious arms was a chap by the name of Robinson Chukeda, a brute of a man who made Charles Manson look like a clean-shaven sensible haircutted
god-fearing American citizen.



“Y’know, some of us been here a long time Harry, a mightly long time. We ain’t goin’ nowhere now. So we gotta make our move, get my drift?”



Yes I did. Robinson’s gist was a breakout, and I was to be the accessory. His plan was outlined whilst a couple of his gum chewing henchmen eyeballed me suspiciously.



“…So you got that Harry? You speak to the warden. You wanna play a soccer
match against the guards. You get a team together, make it look all
serious. We have fellas digging a tunnel from the outside to hit the
communal bath of the changing room we use. We disappear. Gone.”



“I’m only here for a short while, how can I help?”



“The tunnels nearly dug Harry. We just need an excuse to use those fancy
dressing rooms on the recreation pitch. You, with your big name in soccer could be the man to get us in there. Actually, you gotta get us in there or else…”



“Gulp!”



One of the henchmen pulls a very sharp looking knife from his pocket. The other henchman smiled, waiting for the chance to use it against me.



“Anyway, I hear the warden loves that fag soccer game. Go talk to him, get
us in there.”



So off I went to speak to the warden. He’d never heard of me, despite his
so called love of soccer. However he thought it was a good idea, it would
help nurture a good relationship between guards and inmates. I had only a couple of days to get a team together. Robinson had 6 of his mates,
including himself, down for a place in the side, so I had to scout around
looking for 5 more players. I surprisingly found them very easily: A
blond-haired centre-half who looked remarkably like Bobby Moore; a
hard-tackling right-winger who looked like Mike Summerbee; a silky skilled
South American who resembled Ossie Ardiles; a hard-working and skilful
striker who reminded me of Pele; Finally a drunk-looking Pole who could play a bit and who could pass off as Kaziu Deyna’s brother. I had a team, in record time. I held a couple of training sessions to knock them into shape.



“Work hard, show some pride, get stuck in” was my mantra.



The game soon arrived. A packed sports ground, full of screaming cons
closely monitored by nervous guards was our scene as we arrived from the
dressing room. The game kicked-off, and soon my teams inadequacies were
shown up. My blond Bobby Moore centre-half played more like Garry Pallister
in his early “Look at what a waste of money I’ve been for Man U” phase. He
gave the ball away through ridiculous sliced kicks to the opposition and
failed to make a single tackle; My Mike Summerbee turned out to be a big
fairy, desperately attempting to keep out of the way of the ball at every
opportunity; My Ossie Ardiles kept tripping himself up as he attempted to
shuffle past the opposition; My Pele, who seemed to have a fine physique in
training actually appeared to visibly shrink during the game until I was
convinced I’d actually selected a dwarf. Meanwhile my Deyna lookalike was slumped across the penalty area, comatose as a result of too much deadly
moonshine prior to the kick-off. Things were looking bleak, and we trotted off at half-time to a 4-0 deficit.



As we entered the changing room the dirty black faces of the tunnelers
greeted us.



“Cool! We can go now,” shouted Robinson.



“Hold it!” I don’t know what made me so sure of myself in the situation, but
a voice trickled out of my mouth without me even th

151 Fergie's striking dilemma

inking about it. I was clear of my convictions.



“Look lads, there’s a football match to be won here. Think of the honour and pride you will be maintaining for the cons here. Why don’t we go out for the 2nd half and kick some backsides!”



“Yeah.” replied Robinson.



“I guess you’re right. Lets kick some ass! Hey guys – The tunnel will be here after the match. Let’s do it!”



I was shocked, but my request came from the heart and Robinson must have recognised that.



Immediately the spirit of the side was lifted. My team went into battle and
did me, themselves, and the whistling and screaming cons on the touchline
proud. We pulled the game back to 4-4 and clearly the guards were rattled.
With seconds remaining the referee, a guard, handed the guard’s team a
penalty. It was dubious in the extreme, and that one decision nearly
created a full-scale riot, as the supporters on the line were enormously
agitated. I knew this was where my years of football experience could be
put into practice. I’d watched the guard who was about to take the penalty
score all 4 goals for his team. I’d noted that he’d slotted all 4 with the
instep of his right foot into the bottom right corner of the net. I knew
what I had to do. I raced round the side of the pitch to our goalies net
and whilst the referee dealt with my complaining players I gestured to my
keeper to come and have a quiet word with me.



“The striker will hit it low to your left – Dive that way.” The striker
strode up to the ball. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion as he hit it. I watched our goalie dive as instructed to his left, and watched as the ball sailed into the opposite side of the goal, high into the roof of
the net. My players sunk to the floor in dejection. Quickly the referee
blew for full time and the guards ran onto the pitch to handcuff all my team
to ensure they didn’t escape. The players showed no resistance, flat-out,
physically and mentally drained from their fruitless exertions. Meanwhile
the cons on the pitchside loped miserably back to their cells. It’s a scene I’ve seen many times before, dejected fans silently leaving a stadium. At least there were no “Flatcap Out!” chants today, though on this occasion I’d gladly oblige!



A little later the tunnel in the dressing room was discovered and as I
raised the idea for the football match I was considered the perpetrator. My
punishment was 24 hours ‘in the hole’. It was a bleak period. The
darkness, the never ending feeling of despair, the thought of spending
eternity on my own due to the foolishness of my actions, I now know how the remaining Wimbledon supporters feel. Once released from the hole I’ve been keeping a low profile, ensuring I don’t run into Robinson or any of his cronies, as I fear he may not be too happy about the botched breakout.



Anyway, here’s hoping that by next week I’ll be out of here and back
searching for gainful employment in the industry I know best. Don’t forget
you can e-mail messages of support to [email protected] . Dougie
Donnelly did just that, and I thank him for getting together a petition to
have me released, though he admits that 3 names on the list is a tad
disappointing. However Dougie, you will be pleased to know that I have been very careful not to drop the soap in the showers, as you were so keen that I should avoid doing.



Many thanks to the Ed for transcribing this again, hopefully I’ll be back in
the flesh to report to you next week.



Regards



Harry Flatcap


After a decade of free-scoring their merry way at the top of the Premiership, Manchester United's current total of 14 goals in 11 league games is tantamount to a severe drought.



It isn't difficult to see the reasons behind this sudden turn in fortunes. Having sold proven goalscorers Andy Cole and Dwight Yorke over the past year and replaced them with the largely unproven Diego Forlan, Sir Alex Ferguson was always taking a gamble having only three out and out strikers going into the current campaign. Indeed, the imposition of the transfer window has made his decision to spend £30 million on Rio Ferdinand, rather than investing in an additional forward to supplement Forlan, Ruud Van Nistelrooy and Ole Gunnar Solskjaer, look increasingly questionable.



With Van Nistelrooy currently out with a hamstring injury, Ferguson has had little choice other than to rely on the misfiring Forlan and Solskjaer up front. Whilst Solskjaer's interventions from the bench have frequently been dramatic, he has never truly convinced when being asked to lead the line for the full 90 minutes. Such is the dearth of options in attack, even Paul Scholes has been called upon to operate in the front line on occasion.



Now it seems that even those at Old Trafford may have acknowledged that, come January, United will have to seek additional firepower if they are to get back among the goals. So who can the Red Devils look to in a bid to set the opposition onion bag bulging again?



One obvious question in these times of financial hardship (yes, even at Old Trafford), is how much money will be made available? Also, will Ferguson be looking to sign a partner for Van Nistelrooy, or will he merely be looking for a back-up to those already on his books?



Of those already linked with a move to Manchester, one name that would seem to fit the bill in terms of cost and availability is West Ham's Paolo Di Canio. He may be 34 years old, but he'd be available for a relative pittance and would be guaranteed hero status on arrival. The lack of contract negotiations between palyer and club at Upton Park suggest that it wouldn't take too much to tempt the player away from London. True, he would only be a short term solution, but one that would at least provide breathing space in the meantime.



One player who was apparently the subject of interest in the summer was AC Milan's Ukrainian Andriy Shevchenko. Although injury has meant that he has yet to start a game this season, his record of 62 goals in 95 Serie A games, would ensure that the Ukrainian Bullet would come with a world class pedigree. Whether the plc would be prepared to spend in excess of the £20 million it would undoubtedly require to tempt the Italians to sell when they have their own Champions League ambitions is open to question?



Another player supposedly interseting Ferguson is Deportivo La Coruna's Diego Tristan. The Spanish club were rumoured to be in a less than healthy financial state a few months ago, although the fact that they again spent heavily over the summer suggests that things are perhaps not as bad as some had indicated. A phenomenally talented striker, but as with Shevchenko, would his club be prepared to let him go when challenging in Europe themselves? Would Ferguson be given the requisite funds to make a serious bid and would Tristan want to come to England in any case? Would United be prepared to sign a player who would be cup-tied for Champions League matches? Frankly, Tristan would look the least likely option of those supposedly under scrutiny.



Closer to home, Aston Villa's Darius Vassell has also been suggested as a possible solution. Whilst he would probably jump at the chance to leave Villa Park, he has hardly been a prolific striker at club level to date. Would provide the alternative option of raw pace, but would seem something of a risky signing.



Now there is talk of a bid for Newcastle's Craig Bellamy. It would seem doubtful in the extreme that Bobby Robson would be prepared to let the young Welsh star leave St James' Park but, as we all know, money talks. Whether United would be prepared to pay the asking price is another matter.



Chelsea's Eidur Gudjohnsen is another who is said to have caught Ferguson's eye. Seemingly in dispute with his club over his current contract, Gudjohnsen does give the impression that he is angling for a move. Given Chelsea's dire financial predicament, a deal might suit all involved.



Elsewhere, there could be interest in Auxerre's highly rated Djibril Cisse (although he is surely Highbury bound at some stage in the next couple of years?) or, if going for a "charismatic" player of Eric Cantona proportions, debt-ridden Ajax's temperemental Swede, Zlatan Ibrahimovic, could be prove an interesting alternative.



The only certainty is the need to act. Any failure to do so will surely see United fall further behind Arsenal and Liverpool at the Premiership summit.

149 PREMIERSHIP: Aston Chiller

Following humiliation against Birmingham and a seemingly endless goal drought, the horror story for Aston Villa fans could be relegation coupled with survival for West Brom and Birmingham City. Given Villa's inability to score and the intent of many of their players to get away from the club things certainly look bleak.



One bright spot for Aston Villa fans is that when they score they win. Only their 3-2 win over Everton could not be said to be thriller though. Villa’s other wins have been against other relegation threatened sides, grinding out a 2-0 win over Charlton and a 1-0 win over Manchester City.



Recent players to leave the team include Southgate, Ehiogu, and Boeteng all to Birmingham-on-sea (Middlesbrough). Schmeichel left because Taylor preferred the look of Enckelmann. Unsurprisingly Villa are not appealing against the harsh sending off of the hapless Enckelmann, as it offers a guilt-free way of getting Postma into the side. Alpay desperately wants to go, but no one wants him. Ginola is washing his hair right now, probably.



But the biggest loss could well have been Paul Merson. How obvious it now seems that getting rid of your one creative talent should coincide with such a goal drought. Merson went to Portsmouth, and Portsmouth are now top of division one for the first time in years, coincidence?



The inability to score goals must be worrying Graham Taylor, six defeats and one draw have been the result of failing to score in seven out of ten games in the league. Only Sunderland, who else, have a worse goal-scoring record.



Most galling for Villa fans is the form of Birmingham and West Brom. Perhaps the Villa fans really believed their hollow radio chat show boasts that the Premiership would eat their rivals alive, it is Villa that now looks the poor relation. Relegation for Aston Villa is now a real possibility.



Perhaps Taylor, like Wilkinson, is an anachronism. Dedicated to hard work, but without the subtlety to make hard work into something better like a Wenger or a Ferguson. Graham Taylor feels that the press is too aggressive now, and that managers are given too little time. But after 10 games only one managerial casualty is a clear sign that managers are now given more time than ever before. Peter Reid was sacked two games into the season by Manchester City – Sunderland gave him nine games, an improvement of 450%!



Never go back. An old saying that may come to haunt Graham Taylor. He felt that he had unfinished work, after leaving Villa in second place in the top division to take on the England job. But after Venglos and Atkinson, Little and Gregory, Villa have returned to Taylor. Sentimentality has little place in sport and Graham Taylor probably has three games left to turn what’s left of his career around. Starting at Old Trafford tomorrow, four points from three games or Taylor may well face retirement.

148 A definitive A to Z of tarmac,

"There are no easy games in football these days!" Given Germany's recent 8:0 tonking of Saudi Arabia and Australia’s demolitions of Samoa (11:0), Tonga (22:0) & American Samoa (31:0) in their early World Cup qualifiers, I think we can safely say that such comments have about as much credibility as a Rio Ferdinand contract pledge.



Seeing such old fashioned thrashings being dished out brought back memories of the glory days of primary school football, when scores in double, even treble, figures were very much the order of the day. It seemed like the perfect opportunity to have a little trip down memory lane, so here is the definitive A to Z of….



TARMAC, TANTRUMS & TENNIS BALLS



ACTION. Non-stop! Any game that went 30 seconds without a goal was deemed to have been a dour defensive affair.



BALL. Who can forget the halcyon days of the tennis ball? Whether in its pristine fluffiness, balding (in a Bobby Charlton stylee) or waterlogged, the tennis ball was how generation of English schoolboys learnt their skills….which explains quite a lot really.



COATS (AND JUMPERS). Jumpers for goalposts? Yes indeed! Had a strange & miraculous magnetic ability to come closer together as the game went on.



DINNER LADIES. Bless ‘em! Usually of the octogenarian bearded variety. Despite the life expectancy of a laboratory beagle with a fondness for non-filter Gauloises, they would always somehow manage to stray into proceedings & deflect goal bound shots away.



EMLYN HUGHES. We may have been mere pre-pubescent schoolboys, but when it came to choosing which top team we were to masquerade as, Liverpool were never a serious option. Quite simply, no-one was prepared to utter the sickening words, “bagsy Emlyn Hughes!”



FASHION. Short on flair, wide on flares! With the added handicap of slip-off shoes & shirt collars that would require planning permission these days, is it really any wonder we were all so crap?



GOALS. Goal feast? We provided more than enough for a Royal banquet, with plenty left over for sandwiches & a doggy bag.



HEADACHE. The inevitable result of any half-hearted, ill-timed attempt by a 9 year-old to head a waterlogged tennis ball.



INTELLIGENCE. Intellect was something of a stranger at our school. Why was the pitch only 40 yards long, yet 1 ½ miles wide? Probably because not a single one of us could fathom out how to take a throw-in without falling over.



JUSTICE. Any controversy was settled through the tried & tested method of standing, pointing & shouting, “Fight! Fight! Fight!” at the opposition. Usually ended in the ball being confiscated.



KICK-OFF. Drop ball. Basically a mad scramble between 40 young hoodlums ending in ripped shirts & tear stained cheeks.



LINE-UPS. The selection process consisted of the same two captains picking the same two teams day after day & calling their assembled rabble Chelsea & Leeds.



MAN OF THE MATCH. Always decided by “Uncle Charlie”. The seedy old man by the school gates with a dubious penchant for small boys in short trousers.



NERVES. Despite our tender years, the dreaded “Drippy Tiddler Syndrome” was still a big part of any pre-match build up.



ORGANISATION. Try as we might to adopt a professional approach, each & every game was exactly the same – best players up front, crap players in defence & everyone brainlessly pursuing the ball en masse. It was nice to see Ossie Ardiles attempting to rekindle the system at White Hart Lane a few years ago.



PRESSURE. Due to injury, absenteeism or impromptu wrestling bouts, games were often less than balanced. It wasn’t unusual for one team to be camped Touareg-like in the opposition half for the entire lunch hour.



QUALITY. Total Football? Total Bollocks!



RUSH-GOALIE. A brilliant tactic that FIFA should introduce forthwith. Sometimes abused by changing goalie at will without first informing the opposition. Fabien Barthez was obviously schooled in such a manner himself.



STONES. A daily hazard encountered by tricky wingers attempting mazy dribbles through the hopscotch area.



TARMAC. With a little imagination, the divot ridden tarmac of the playground was transformed into the hallowed turf of Wembley.



USELESS. The general level of ability.



VARICOSE VEINS. Any shots that hit the dinner ladies varicose veins counted double.



WORK RATE. With puberty being no more than an ugly, unfounded rumour, we could all rely on enthusiasm, energy & a full compliment of knee ligaments. The only problem with 60 minutes of non-stop action was the resultant array of underarm stains on display each afternoon.



X (AS IN DRAW). There has NEVER, EVER been a draw in the history of primary school playground football. No, never!



YOUTH POLICY. The process of allowing a 7 year-old to play, provided he agreed to retrieve the ball when it went over the fence.



ZOE MITCHELL. A devilishly saucy Betty Rubble look-alike, armed with a jumbo bag of sherbert flying saucers, black jacks & fruit salads (ideal snacks for the busy footballer on the move).

146 TV Times

Policia! Bastardo! Safado!” before stumbling back to the floor recommencing the manic mumbling. In the adjacent cell I can sometimes hear Mr. Leppok muttering about “Worldcom, I’ll get them, oh yes I will…” which for some reason reminds me of Blakey from ‘On the Buses’.



So Sunderland had to resort to plan B, and I believe they were really
disappointed to appoint Howard Wilkinson. Hopefully I’ll be out of here soon, and I don’t think anybody has any doubt the Sunderland job will soon be on the market again, and I’ll be able to take my rightful position as manager of the Black Cats.



To compound my misery we were allowed to view on a grainy old TV screen the England v. Macedonia match this week. I wish I hadn’t bothered. The rest of the cons were shouting to get the “goddam homo game” off the TV and turn something else on, but I pleaded to be allowed to watch the game, as I am an English football manager and need to keep abreast of English football matters.” I heard a sarcastic “Ha!” emanating from Mr. Leppok. I wished I hadn’t bothered. The picture quality was poor, I saw Smith’s sending off, but when was Owen dismissed? Clearly it happened just after half-time as England I never saw him throughout the second 45 minutes.



Hopefully next week I’ll be able to write my column with the air of freedom breathing into my lungs. In the meantime if you want to offer messages of support, comments, or plans to form a ‘Flatcap is Innocent’ campaign then please send e-mails to [email protected] and the Ed promises he will look after them in my absence.



Regards



Harry Flatcap



The recent decision of the BBC to broadcast the Old Firm derby across the nation was a rare chance for long-suffering terrestrial viewers to see live football. The game itself made compulsive viewing, admittedly more as a result of defensive errors and the intense atmosphere of bigotry that Celtic v Rangers games traditionally provide, but it was still something of a bonus to be able to watch a game from a league outside England.



Sure, you can get Spanish, French and German via the likes of Sky and Eurosport, but what about those without the means to boost Rupert Murdoch's income? With clubs across the globe now counting the pennies in the advent of the slump in TV revenue, it is surely not beyond the capabilities and budgets of possibility for the BBC and/ or their terrestrial rivals to come to some agreement with their international counterparts to provide the public with the opportunity to watch top class football from around the world? If some form of reciprocal deal could be arranged, it would not only be beneficial to the TV companies themselves and their viewers, but it would surely also be welcome additional revenue for the leagues involved.



Not only would it act as a two finger salute to the greed driven Premiership, but it would naturally increase the levels of interest and knowledge in different leagues, much as Channel 4's Football Italia did, before the bizarre decision was made to put the programmes on at seemingly random times and, eventually, to drop it altogether after failing to agree terms with the Italian rights-holders.



Scandinavia and the Far East have long been televising top-flight English games, so why shouldn't we get the opportunity to see the best of what's on offer from overseas?



Any such programmes could focus on a different league every week, with a pre-match report on the country in question, including a potted history of the league, key clubs and players, as well as a look at the city in question hosting the week's game. What better way, at a time when TV companies are constantly accused of dumbing down, to present an educational programme featuring geographical, cultural and historical content?



Am I alone in thinking that there is surely an audience out there willing to watch the likes of Borussia Dortmund v Bayern Munich (Germany), Porto v Sporting Lisbon (Portugal), Fenerbahce v Galatasaray (Turkey), Boca Juniors v River Plate (Argentina), PSV Eindhoven v Ajax (Holland), Pirouzi v Esteghlal (Iran), AEK Athens v Olympiakos (Greece) and Cruz Azul v Toluca (Mexico)? O.K., so the last one might be something of a personal desire, but it would be a real cracker - believe me!



Just one last request - please don't allow Ron Atkinson anywhere near a microphone!

145 Harry Flatcap is sent to jail.

Greetings Flatcap followers. I hope this regular column finds its way onto your website on time this week as it has been dictated down a telephone line to the squarefootball.net editor. You see, I’m currently holed up in Florida State Penitentiary and when offered my standard one phone call I decided the Ed was the best person as he will be able to break the news of my current difficulties to the British public. Using my phone call for that purpose could explain however why I’m still stuck in the slammer awaiting my bail bond to be approved.



How did I end up here? Well, despite leaving the Florida Worldcoms a week ago, it seems I was still implicated in a large-scale bribery scandal with serious overtones for the US economy.



It would appear that Worldcoms involvement in the soccer club wasn’t as pure and innocent as we expected from a benevolent supersize US corporation. It would appear their motives weren’t merely to see the football club do well, but to try and maximise their earnings by flowing cash through the football club in an attempt to cover up outgoings and minimise tax losses. I’m shocked and appalled. I really had no idea we would be used that way, and I’m sure Mr. Leppok, club owner and the man locked in the cell next to mine, could not see this coming either.



The straw that broke the camels back was the Ronaldo fiasco. Finally, the player arrived at the club, proudly flanked by a proud Mr. Leppok , and Worldcom director George Saten. Chief coach Stefan Effenburg had
mysteriously resigned from the club only moments before the press conference and was conspicuous by his absence. However the main story was the unveiling of the player itself, as it transpired that the player introduced to the media throng (the local papers cub reporter, a confused journo from “What Camera?” Magazine, and Alfred E. Neuman from “Mad” Magazine) was no other than Mr. Ronald Aldo, a local man hitherto employed as a waiter in a busy Florida bar. Soon the story hit the street and ace Florida reporter Ulrich Lekerman was on the scene, asking key questions to Mr. Leppok.



Lekerman: “So where is Ronaldo?”


Leppok: “He’s here, Mr. Ron Aldo.”


Lekerman: “But what about the real Ronaldo?”


Leppok: “Ah, you mean the Brazilian Ronaldo. I can see here’s been a bit of confusion here…”


Lekerman: “But you spent all this money on a player we presumed to be the Brazilian superstar and you’ve signed a local waiter.”


Leppok: “But he’s a very good waiter. You want to see him in action. Nobody serves customers better than this man.”


Lekerman: “So you’ve signed him on his ability to serve customers and not play in the team?”


Leppok: “Well we thought the team was progressing really nicely but felt there were performance problems in our restaurant areas. Ron’s the man to knock it into shape.”


Lekerman: “So where has all the money gone?”


Leppok: “On securing the services of an important member of our team.”


Lekerman: “What - all $50m of it?”


Leppok: “Quality like that doesn’t come cheap.”


Lekerman: “Why was the whole affair so protracted.”


Leppok: “We had to agree an exceptional deal with Worldcom, who were paying the money, and Aldo’s advisors.”


Lekerman: “Who are Aldo’s advisors?”


Leppok: “His wife, mother-in-law, and daughter. And as anybody knows, dealing with a team like that is never easy.”


Lekerman: “What about Harry Flatcap? He’s been building up the signing of ‘Ronaldo’ in his regular column on squarefootball.net. Do you feel he’s cheated the fans here?”


Leppok: “Harry was an asshole. That’s why we gave him the nudge.”



Thanks very much – Make me the scapegoat! Anyway Ulrich Lekerman, as is his style, created a major news story and before I could work out how to use the strangely smelling tin opener in my low-grade motel room the FBI are screaming at me to get my “mutherf***kin’ ass down on the floor and don’t make a move buddy or your brains will be forming part of the carpet pattern.



It was a real disappointment for what was becoming a really good day. You see, just an hour before, I’d had a telephone call from across the pond. I was the new manager of Sunderland!



I applied for the vacant managers job within seconds of hearing about Peter Reid’s demise at the Stadium of Light, and exclusively for you I have supplied a copy of the letter and CV I sent to the Sunderland chairman to apply for the job. Bob Murray, Sunderland chairman, received my letter two days later and immediately contacted me to offer me the position.



“Harry, we’re really desperate. You’re in.”



The news very nearly leaked out, I have obtained exclusive proof that the BBC website were just about to run the story, as you can see from the attached link here... [Yeah right, we’re really going to print that, I don’t think. Ed]



The BBC did well to get the story, though there are some inaccuracies
contained within it. How could they mix me up with Andy Capp, as the
picture clearly isn’t me? What’s all this about my last job being at
Peterlee? Did they not know about my successful work over the last 10
years, as contained upon my CV? But I wasn’t aware Fred Shuttleworth had amongst his misdemeanours robbed a bank – May explain his double-quick reasons to link up with me out in the States.



So here I am currently in ‘The Stir’, as the locals call it. Presently I’m spending 23 hours in a small smell with a Puerto Rican with his front teeth missing who keeps wolf-whistling me and a small Mexican who continually mutters under his breath in a strange angry manner. Occasionally leaping up to his feet to shout “Morre! Morre!

144 Harry Flatcap applies for Sund

Bob Murray


Chairman


Sunderland FC


Stadium of Light


Sunderland


Tyne & Wear


SR5 1SU



8th October 2002



Dear Bob



I would like to formally put my name forward for the vacant managers
position at Sunderland football club.



You may recall Bob that we have met many times on the past. I am a well
known and respected figure in the North East football circuit having played many games in the area, particularly at places such as Darlington and Hartlepool, before going into management where I served a couple of teams up there. My main achievement being named Durham Amateur Leagues manager of the week for a stunning 1-0 victory when in charge of Bishop Auckland versus Middlesborough Ironopolis back in 1975.



We have met at various dinners, you may recall the hilarious speech I gave at the Hexham WMC FC annual summer gentleman’s evening where you were a special guest. I was a great success, witty, and erudite, and I’m sure when the police turned up to arrest me it was a case of mistaken identity.



I even got a chance to say “hello” to you in September 1991, in the
directors box of the old Roker Park. I forget who Sunderland were playing that day but you looked impressed as you replied “hello” back: Me resplendent in traditional managers sheepskin coat, car blanket to place on knees, and big fat cigar hanging precariously from the end of my teeth.



You see I believe in tradition. So much so that I dress the very same way today as I did in 1991. But I believe the people of the North East, with their unrivalled passionate support, this hotbed of football, need a team they can shout themselves hoarse for. I know the fans will respond immediately, after all they've had plenty of practise making some sort of noise as they bellowed “Reid Out!” down at the Stadium of Light over the last few months. I know I could give them even more to shout about!



Now Peter is a really good mate of mine. I’ve shared many a bevvy with him in the Bottle & Glass, his favourite boozer, down in Toxteth. But I want this job and I’m more than happy to jump straight into his shoes without a moments thought.



With my unique brand of man-management skills, passion, and the discipline I’ll instil into the overpaid prima-donna ponces that masquerade today as professional footballers, I’m sure I can run a tight ship that can jump every hurdle and fly to the moon in our quest to bring major honours to one of the countries top clubs.



As stated above, I’m greatly interested in the role. If you could confirm the salary package, what type of company car I would receive, and whether I can control my own image/media rights, I’m sure we can come up with a deal that would secure a great future for Sunderland.



Please fine enclosed my curriculum vitae. I look forward to hearing from you soon.



Yours sincerely



Mr. Harry Flatcap

143 Harry Flatcaps CV

CURRICULUM VITAE



Name: HARRY EUGENE FLATCAP



Age: Young fiftyish



Birthplace: Grimsby



Birthdate: A cold wet Wednesday evening in January (every football managers worst nightmare!)



Marital Status: Divorced



Children: Eusebio Flatcap (27), Pele Flatcap(25), Maradonna Flatcap (14), Gazza Flatcap (12)



EDUCATION



School of life…Where else?



QUALIFICATIONS



BCSE Cookery grade 2 1974



City & Guilds Plumbing 1975



BTEC Typing Grade I 1977



(encouraged to learn trade outside of football by many many people over the years)



WORK EXPERIENCE (OVER LAST 10 YEARS)



2002: FLORIDA WORLDCOMS



Led team into American League play-offs before being sacked by over-zealous owner scared of paying win bonuses.



2001: BURY FC



Embarked on a crazy £15m spending spree until the club chairman did a runner leaving us financially destitute. In a fun and wacky scheme designed to raise funds for ‘Save our Shakers’ offered to sleep
with female fans for £50. Sacked as board felt idea was in bad taste,
despite raising £10 to keep Bury afloat (the one customer who took up my offer demanded a ‘performance refund’)



2000: BOBBY CHARLTONS SOCCER SCHOOL



Responsible for arrangement and maintenance of cones and bibs, ensuring none were stolen or damaged.



1999: RADIO HAPPY HADDOCK GRIMSBY FM



Covered Grimsby Town games as expert summariser. Sacked for infuriating listeners by continually stating “No manger likes to come here on a cold wet Wednesday in January”…



1998: MANCHESTER CITY FC



Five games in charge as City embarked on 27 managers in 3 months. Team
scored 2 and let in 37 goals and used 62 different players. Lost all 5 games. Spent £27m on 14 players, recouping £120,000 selling 18 players (whose total cost was £42m). Made Nick Summerbee captain. Despite this City fans voted me their best player over the length of the season.



1997: LUCKY LAURIES FISH’N’CHIP EMPORIUM, GRIMSBY



Brief spell ‘in-between football jobs’. Responsible for battering and
frying fish. Worked with Laurie until the Food Standards Agency closed him down on account of the ‘Plague Still Exists in Grimsby!’ scandal.



1987-1996: WATFORD FC



My longest job in football, I signed a long and expensive contract with
Watford in ’87 and I stayed until it expired in ’96. During that time I helped Watford become a team beset by money trouble (in the old div 1) to a team healthily in the black (in the new div 2) by selling all the good players and replacing them with very cheap ones (although unfortunately these players were so cheap on account nobody else wanted them).



PERSONAL CHARACTERISTICS



I like to shout, long and hard. I instil discipline, a work-ethic, and
licence for my players to give the opposition a good turning over. I appreciate good football providing it is played by other teams – I am
in the results business and concentrate on winning. My teams play fast
direct football but not a long ball game: I have developed my own variation entitled “The hopeful ball”. I like a laugh with my
players and enjoy brutally terrorising young players in the name of humour. I’ll do anything for a quid.



HOBBIES AND INTERESTS



I am a studied reader and like to read intellectual publications such as When Saturday Comes. I like to drink until I fall over with the lads. I enjoy spending most of my mornings and afternoons down the
golf club and my evenings in the club house. I am a keen gardener and
regularly mow my lawn. I have a secret vice habit that is well hidden and undetectable to any tabloid journalists.



REFEREES



FRED SHUTTLEWORTH SVENN GORAN ERIKSSON


FOOTBALL COACH FOOTBALL MANAGER


C/O STRANGEWAYS PRISON ENGLAND NATIONAL SIDE


MANCHESTER SOHO SQUARE


LONDON

142 SPL: Jammy dodgers

Quite frankly there is more chance of Ann Widdicombe appearing, legs akimbo, as a Playboy centrefold, than of the Scottish Premier title residing anywhere other than either Parkhead or Ibrox these days. Not since Aberdeen in 1984-5 have the engravers had to etch any other name than that of one of the Old Firm on the trophy. Indeed, not since 1994-5 has any club, Motherwell, managed to even split the Glasgow giants at the top of the table.



Whilst it would be true to say that Celtic and Rangers appear to be more dominant than ever at present, there are at least initial signs that one or two clubs might be able to prove competitive against them in one off games, if not over the course of the season.



Of these clubs, the best placed could be Heart of Midlothian who, having won the Scottish Cup in 1998, were the last club side outside the big two to win a major domestic trophy.



As with almost every other Scottish club attempting to break the duopoly, Hearts are heavily reliant on players they can bring through themselves or whom they can convince to join them in what must surely be the most desperately predictable league in Europe (especially since the break-up of the Eastern bloc).



Hearts boss Craig Levein, a former club defender, is gradually building a squad that looks capable of challenging for a UEFA Cup spot at the very least. With a solid base provided by captain Steven Pressley, recently recalled to national duty, providing stability alongside Canadian international Kevin McKenna in central defence, Levein spent the close season looking to strengthen his midfield and attacking options.



Having served his managerial apprenticeship at Cowdenbeath, necessity has made Levein a shrewd operator in the transfer market. There is little doubt that the summer signings of Phil Stamp, Jean-Louis Valois and Kevin Twaddle have strengthened the midfield considerably. Thanks to his other key summer addition, Mark de Vries, having started the season in such prolific form, the loss of last season's on-loan striker Ricardo Fuller (whose transfer fee was out of the club's reach) has been less evident than had been feared.



The lack of TV money has made an already difficult task even more so for a club that has frequently had to sell its best players in order to balance the books. The recent sale of keeper Antti Niemi to Southampton for this very reason has certainly left a major void between the sticks, with neither Roddy McKenzie or young Craig Gordon looking terribly convincing as a long-term solution.



With home grown talent such as Scott Severin, Stephen Simmons, Paul McMullan and Graham Weir adding to those at Levein's disposal, it is little wonder than the Edinburgh club currently look the likeliest challengers to the Glasgow giants.



Yes it's a long shot, but if either of the top two slip-up, The Jam Tarts could be the team to take advantage. I'll certainly be perusing the top shelf publications in the local newsagent just in case.

141 International managers do the

Football management is supposed to be significantly harder than playing. But how much harder is international management? Every result is scrutinised to death, because there are no other domestic fixtures to report on. And, like last night for Wales, when the result goes well you have to wait four months to continue your good run. Similarly, if it goes badly like for England, the interminable wait for a chance to make good would stretch tensions beyond the point where a Swedish masseuse could help. Who would be an international manager?



Not Alex Ferguson for one. When Jock Stein died during a world cup, qualifying match with Wales in September 1985, Ferguson took over. One of his first memorable decisions, for an English audience, was to drop Alan Hansen from his World Cup Finals squad.



No Gazza-style histrionics from the elegant Hansen and no success for Ferguson as Scotland again failed to escape the group phase of a World Cup. Reports that England wanted him to replace Hoddle after the England manager again put his mouth in gear without engaging his brain were never confirmed and he was unlikely to want an international managers job anyway. That Hansen never even attempted club management gives some indication that the clever footballer becomes a pundit, the less thoughtful ones become the targets for pundits.



Scotland’s Berti Vogts can finally relax after a ood win over a decent side. Iceland are no pushovers. But given the sketchy performance against the Faroe Islands this is not a team on the verge of qualification for Euro 2004. Vogts is making fundamental changes to Scottish football at the top level and unless he is given four years, then his time will have been wasted.



Wales’ 2-1 win over Italy has brought into sharp relief the gulf in class that now exists between Scotland and Wales. But more pertinently it shows what an excellent manager Mark Hughes has become. Hughes long career started as a teenaged regular in Ron Atkinson’s swashbuckling, and underachieving, Manchester United side of the 1980’s. His subsequent moves to Barcelona, Bayern Munich, back to Manchester United under Ferguson, Chelsea, Southampton, Everton and Blackburn have seen him take in many management styles. That within months of enforced retirement he has taken Wales to competitive wins over Finland and Italy. This bears testimony to his ability. If Wales can now force six points from Azerbaijan they would probably be four or five points from World Cup qualification, with home games against Finland and Yugoslavia to come. Some achievement.



Sven Goran Eriksson, on the other hand, is no longer being feted as the ‘lucky manager’.  Two defensive errors, that compounded errors in midfield, that allowed Macedonia into attacking positions, were too much for England to overcome. With four months to sit and stew on this result and the Ulrika affair showing no signs of abating, will Eriksson see out the winter as England manager? While the press go to town on a pony-tailed scapegoat, surely they will turn on the manager before too long. They will turn, if for no other reason than the fact that they turn on every England manager sooner or later. Some like Venables get an easy ride, some like Taylor get a desperately tough time of it. When they turn, I think Eriksson will go.



Ireland’s manager Mick McCarthy must have worn out his lucky Buddha in Japan because everything he now touches turns to lead. Ireland’s two defeats may not have put them out, but they have left McCarthy within touching distance of the sack. Given that McCarthy and Roy Keane will not share the same dressing room the Irish FA will have to decide on whether they should stay loyal to aasuccessful coach or shamefully give in to player power. McCarthy will probably be sacked if Ireland lose their next match.



Two months ago Hughes was a gamble, Vogts was rebuilding and Eriksson and McCarthy excellent coaches. This hasn’t changed because of the results in two games for each side. The press packs of Scotland, England and Ireland have started to circle their respective managers, scenting blood. If they get their way there are few good replacements because the best managers don’t always risk their reputations in the international arena. But good replacements don’t sell newspapers.

140 Roy Keane found guilty

Roy Keane has been fined 150,000 and banned for a further five matches, on top of the four match ban he received for the nasty foul he committed on Alf Inge Halland in the Manchester Derby in April 2000. This record fine and hefty ban has been pillaried mostly as being too lenient. His offence was that he admitted in an autobiography that there was some premeditation involved in his challenge. Does the FA think he is so unique?



Many other cases have been brought forward as examples of why Roy Keane should be facing stricter action. When Paulo Di Canio pushed over the referee, Paul Allcock, whilst playing for Sheffield Wednesday he was banned for 11 matches before being sold to West Ham. Eric Cantona was banned for 8 months (including the close season) from all football for launching a physical assault on an abusive opposition fan after he was sent off at Selhurst Park. Duncan Ferguson was given a, partially suspended, six month jail term for a head-butting incident. He was also suspended for much of this time and was subsequently sold to Everton.



In none of these cases was anyone’s career endangered, apart from the aggressors.



Another less heralded incident happened when Liverpool’s Dean Saunders clattered Chelsea defender Paul Elliot causing so much damage that Elliot had to retire from the game. Elliot subsequently sued, and the civil case of Elliot vs Saunders 1994 saw Saunders found guilty under a vicarious liability ruling. Basically, Saunders was said to not have taken due care and attention whilst performing his job. This is similar to a drunken tanker driver mowing down a pedestrian.



Dean Saunders did not receive any further fine or ban from the FA following the court case.



Uniquely in Roy Keane’s case a (ghost-written) autobiography entry stated that there was premeditation in his challenge. But Keane would probably not have been banned if he had been transferred, because it would have been difficult to punish another club.



The FA have never before acted to retrospectively ban players for comments made months and years after the event. To start now is to give a dangerous precedent.



The fine is an irrelevance but is at least getting towards a valid amount. Look at the pathetic fine meted out to PSV Eindhoven (12,000) for gross racism if you want to find an example of an inadequate fine.



The ban will hurt Keane more, but the ban is probably the area of most contention. A fairer result may have involved a fine and compensation for Haaland, say ratcheting up the cost to closer to a million pounds. But banning someone twice for one offence puts the FA on a very slippery slope. This may not be the end of this matter.

139 Fox Hunting

a player offside, even though that player does not
actually play the ball. The attack came in from the left wing while there
was an offside player on the right, the defensive players had to scramble to
cover both avenues of attack, leaving the ball carrier with more space to
move and play. Which is what happened there, Mr. Flatcap, sir. So if you’d
please disallow the goal and give me the free kick.” “No. Shaddup or I’ll
book you.” Was my response to the boy, who’d clearly swallowed the rulebook,
American style. And so he carried on, disputing every decision that went
against him. He was like a polite, college educated, non-confrontational
blue eyed Roy Keane. When I threatened him with a sending off he pleaded
with me “Man…Don’t eject me from the game, I ain’t done nothin’ bad sir, I’m
not lookin’ to cause mischief…” So I sent him off for being a bloody pain
in the arse, and of course his father was there, and he joined the other
father in shouting a stream of insults at yours truly. This attracted the
attention of the other spectators, none more so than my nemesis, journalist
Ulrich Lekerman, who reported later ”… whilst the other children’s matches
passed off peaceably, all the ugly scenes and confrontational incidents
centred on Harry Flatcaps zone…The Brazilian coach was demonstrating
wonderful ball skills, the Dutch coach tactical organisation, whilst Flatcap
had both sides launching the ball offensively while working equally hard on
maiming their opponents. When will the Worldcoms realise this man is an
embarrassment and a liability and replace him, particularly when they have
the influence of head coach Stefan Effenburg to call on?” The next day I
was sacked, replaced by Stefan Effenburg.



I do believe in conspiracy theories. I believe the Worldcoms hierarchy knew
I’d be too successful and have to pay out win bonuses they couldn’t afford.
I overheard Mr. Leppok say “I was looking for a chance to get rid of him
without having to pay him off” which confirmed my view. The players put on
a collective brave face when I told them the news, their smiles and happy
faces were a faade to hide their true feelings about me leaving. Man
mountain centre half Clementine Ungondu burst into tears, thrusting a
telephone number into my hand “You call me any time boss, any time at all.”
Rather touchingly they had a quick whip-round and bought me a crystal
decanter, that star centre forward Clint Mattesson presented to me.
Unfortunately before handing it over he dropped it, slicing a gaping wound
into his foot and ruling him out for the rest of the season. Lucky not to
severe an artery I was later told.



So this may be the end of Harry Flatcap and the Florida Worldcoms but I
assure you not the end of my column as I’ll keep you posted as I attempt to
find new employment. I am open to offers so if you are aware of any job
opportunities please drop me a line at [email protected].



Signing off



Harry FlatcapEven allowing for the current financial predicament of the game in general, the plight of Leicester City, rumoured to be somewhere in the region of £30 million in debt, takes some beating.



Hit by the triple whammy of Premiership relegation, the loss of revenue from the ITV Digital debacle and the costs in moving to a new stadium, it is easy to see why there is some doubt as to the future of The Foxes.



With a £1.5 million tax demand from the Inland Revenue adding to their woes and the subsequent decision of the plc to suspend their shares on the Stock Market - it is somewhat ironic that these same shares we're widely regarded as undervalued just three years ago - it is pretty difficult to see any silver lining in the clouds looming over The Walkers Stadium.



Now, in line with those at a number of other Nationwide league clubs, the players have been asked to take a 20% pay cut (or to have payments deferred depending on which version you believe).



There is also talk of the club clambering aboard the bandwagon and going into administration. Whereas this used to suggest the threat of club gates being shut and P45s being dished out, recent examples seem to indicate that it consists of little more than bringing in a few people who actually have some comprehension of how to run a business. Something of a novel concept in football.



On the plus side, whilst City's position might look somewhat perilous, they are in good company with the majority of their peers in Division 1 (particularly those recently relegated from the Premiership) and so are at least competing on a relatively level playing field. Even so, the managerial duo of Micky Adams and Dave Bassett deserve enormous credit for positioning the club in the upper echelons of the division, despite the enforced sales of Robbie Savage and Matt Piper.



The sacking of under-performing thug Dennis Wise and his hefty pay packet has been less of a loss. Indeed, it has probably done much to improve team morale. Once the transfer window opens in January, there must be every chance that the hugely influential Muzzy Izzet will need to be sold in a further attempt to balance the books. That said, there are unlikely to be many takers willing to pay Izzet anywhere near his current salary, especially now that Bryan Robson is no longer gainfully employed in a managerial role.

138 Harry Flatcap is sacked

Hello Harry Flatcap followers. I’m sad to report that it’s no longer Flatcap of Florida Worldcoms, as my contract was terminated during the week.
It’s now Flatcap on unemployment benefit.



The sack is no stranger to me in my life, this being the 15th chop of my
career. Possibly though this one hurt the most, I’d never been in charge of
a team that had won so many games (4 out of 9, though one of those wins came
whilst I was held hostage). And the fact I was given 2 hours to vacate my
luxury apartment overlooking the Gulf of Mexico has now sunk in as I write
this column in a budget motel somewhere just off the petrol-fumed Florida
interstate. The room has no air conditioning and a strange musty smell.
The nights are broken by the sounds of screams somewhere a short distance
away. How did I end up here so quickly?

It would appear my appearance at the Soccer League Conference Event didn’t
go down too well, whilst the children’s coaching workshop the following day
exaggerated the grievances people had against me, causing Mr. Leppok to
announce my position as “untenable” that very same day.



So what went wrong? The conference is a big league event and all the club
coaches appear on a panel to discuss the game at grass roots level in an
attempt to heighten awareness of the game in the US. Now you know me, I
call a spade a spade and like football to remain firmly in the past, where
it was better. You can keep your Zidanes, Rivaldos, and Ronaldos (though I
was disappointed not to be working with him due to the ongoing transfer
saga) – I prefer Chopper Harris, Terry Mancini, and Ian Ure. So some of the
questions thrown at me were really difficult to handle, as you can see
below:



Question: “Aggressive forwards will often draw offside calls in an attempt
to gain an advantage. Do you see a problem with that Harry?”

Harry: “Eh?”



Question: “In the American league, the home team is allowed to dress 20
players for every match -11 starters and 9 players on the bench. The
visiting team, on the other hand, must make do with only 16 players. This
regulation puts more pressure on the visiting coach and increases the ‘home
field advantage’ by allowing the home team a greater variety of tactical
options. Do you think this is fair Harry?”



Harry: “You can name 20 players for a home game? Nobody told me that!
I’ve always picked 16 regardless. Seems a daft rule to me, what happens if
your team embarks on a massive drinking bender in the hotel the night before
a match and you haven’t got enough players? It happens a lot you know when
you’re on the road…”



Question: “Players who patrol the sidelines can control the pace of an
entire game, is it a tactic you like to use Harry?”



Harry: “No son, you’ve got it wrong. The person who patrols the sidelines
is the linesman. No I won’t call him a referee’s assistant. He’s a bloody
linesman. When he can do his job sensibly I might look at giving him a
proper title, but until then I’ll call him a linesman.”



I was taken to one side and an official of the league asked me to tone down
my aggressive nature or I would be “sentenced on a disrepute charge”. I
didn’t know what the guy was on about so ignored him. The next day was a
coaching school where talented young kids were given a chance to receive
expert tuition from me and the other coaches in the league. These kids
looked like they’d never seen a football pitch in their lives, with their
fancy pumps, gaudy coloured t-shirts, and shiny footballs. I’d like to see
these kids play 90 minutes down at the Old Recreation Patch, Darwen, and see
how fancy their pumps still were afterwards. I bet their skin wouldn’t glow
so healthily coloured with raw sewage, which used to slush out of an
adjoining waste pipe of a pitch I played on in Clitheroe as a kid. We called
that pitch “Wembley”, so fortunate were we to play on it as it was saved for
special occasions.



I felt these kids needed a good old fashioned English
warm up so sent them off to jog the pitch, occasionally bellowing at them to
“Head the football!” at which point they rose to attack the non-existent
ball. Other instructions were “Touch the floor left hand”, “Touch the floor
right hand”, “Sprint to the next touchline”, “Jog backwards”. Any slackers
were made to get down and do twenty press-ups. After a couple of hours of
this I felt they were sufficiently ready to play a small game of
five-a-side, with me refereeing and holding play up occasionally to explain
the finer points of the game. The first issue, and one of the reasons I was
hounded out of my job surrounds my handling of a dispute that had erupted
prior to the match kicking-off. I nominated a rather portly young boy to
take position in the goal, explaining that “A goal net has 192 feet of space
to defend, and as you almost fill it I think that gives your team the edge”.



It was a joke, but the snivelling little sod ran off and fell straight
into the lap of his father, who I couldn’t understand due to accent
difficulties but kept loudly shouting about “Horse whippin’ ya, ya freakin’
mother” which I found very strange.



Then I had an ongoing row with a kid called Todd. Now it wouldn’t surprise
me if Todd ended up an attorney in 20 years from now as the kid was as big a
smart-arse as you could ever wish to see. Blond hair, pristine kit, he
graced along the pitch seemingly looking for opportunities to get into a row
with me. On one occasion I refused to award an offside decision in Todd’s
favour as I felt the striker was not interfering with play, and the striker
never touched the ball at any point during the move. “It is not required
that the ball be played to the offside player. Often, a team can gain an
advantage by having

137 PREMIERSHIP: Wilko and out

Will Sunderland fans be dancing in the streets at the news that Howard Wilkinson has become the new manager, with a self-proclaimed brief to get 45 points and safe. Well possibly not. Perhaps the reality is that Sunderland have got an experienced coach and an enthusiastic sidekick to coach and train their way out of trouble. With no transfers until the new year they can’t buy their way out of trouble. But the echoes of Leicester City’s plight of a year ago are too strong to be ignored.



To give Howard Wilkinson his due he has won a league championship. This is something that only he and George Graham of the other candidates for the Sunderland job did have. David O’Leary, Mick McCarthy, Joe Royle etc. have no domestic championships between them, and offhand I can’t think of any cups that they’ve won either. So in Howard Wilkinson they have bought a winner, even if he is a little dour.



Secondly in his role as the FA’s Under 21’s coach and latterly technical director of football, he has been soaking in the latest coaching techniques, fitness regimes and dietary research. This will allow him to offer Sunderland a chance at their new training centre to become a centre of excellence, the benefits to Sunderland in a few years time may be fantastic. He will also know about many of the younger players, that Arsene Wenger seems so adept at picking up, to allow Sunderland to buy some real bargains.



So there are some excellent positive points to Wilkinson and the ex-Stoke coach Steve Cotterill has all the hallmarks of a good future coach at the club. But although none of the candidates for the Sunderland job have an unblemished past, they have all been sacked, Wilkinson does carry some unwelcome baggage.



When Howard Wilkinson, as England caretaker manager, got a draw in Finland he suggested that qualification for the World Cup may not be in England’s interests, and building for Euro 2004 was a better idea. Wilkinson does not appear to be a risk taker, and there must be doubts as to how high Sunderland are likely to get under him.



At Leeds United he developed a cracking team spirit in the early days, which disintegrated quickly. The fans seem to turn on Wilkinson quite quickly whatever he does for the team. Sheffield Wednesday fans were glad to get rid of him when he went to Leeds, and the Leeds fans wanted change barely a year after championship success.



His two stand-out transfer deals are also unfortunate, selling Eric Cantona for £1m to Manchester United proved to be the catalyst for years of success at Old Trafford. Buying Lee Sharpe for £4.5m proved to be a big waste of money. Let’s hope the Sunderland board keep a close eye on the budgets.



Then there is the Leicester City factor. A club that nose-dived after Christmas but had too many points in the bag to go down, but the new season started badly and in the opening week of October they sacked their grey haired manager and replaced him with an old stager who was out of management and paired him with an up and coming Nationwide League manager. Leicester finished bottom and were put into administration today despite being second in Division One.



If Sunderland can be coaxed and coached out of their current difficulties then Howard Wilkinson may turn into a medium term godsend. The chances are that, given time, he will succeed. He has inherited a decent team and will get money to spend in the new year. There are also a few poor teams at the bottom that Sunderland can now get clear of. The only real question is, were the board too loyal to Peter Reid and is any replacement already too late?

136 Cheer Up Peter Reid

Almost a quarter of the season gone and we finally have a managerial casualty. That it was the hot favourite, Peter Reid, will have surprised few people. That it took so long is a mystery to many Sunderland fans. Almost as mysterious, to Wearside, is the national perception that Peter Reid did a good job in difficult circumstances. Before he settles himself into the inevitable Sky punditry role we look back at Reid’s successes and failings.



There is one of those stories doing the rounds that Peter Reid was actually sacked after the Newcastle defeat, which was an abject surrender however you look at it. But to save the Sunderland fans from too much grief, the public announcement had to wait for a more appropriate juncture. For Newcastle fans to crow that they got Peter Reid sacked would stick in the craw as much as Arsenal winning the title at Old Trafford, or Manchester United winning it at Anfield. It would have hurt.



Redandwhitebarmyarmy.com on the rivals network even stated that David O’Leary was interviewed in the Seaburn Hotel in the week following the Newcastle defeat. Following the derby defeat Sunderland put together two wins, so it was a little surprising that an expected 3-1 defeat at league leaders Arsenal was the catalyst for the sack. It seems that the board had decided he would be sacked the next time his team underperformed, and then acted swiftly to allow a bedding in period during the break for international matches. Perhaps the couple of days of enforced garden leave that Reid was sent on, were the aftermath of his discovery that he was to be axed.



Under Reid Sunderland have moved to a new stadium and attendances have risen from around 20,000 to the exalted heights of 45,000. Only Manchester United and Newcastle can better that. Unfortunately this is one stick that is used to beat the manager. Why, when there is so much money and backing, aren’t Sunderland playing in Europe and challenging for the title? The reality is that Sunderland isn’t a glamorous club, and the locale isn’t internationally recognised as being ‘a place to be’. For your feckless modern footballer, what’s the point in having designer clothes, a Ferrari and a gorgeous blonde girlfriend if there are no photographers about. If a Versace Clothing error is made and there are no paparazzi to see it – does it make a sound?



Peter Reid’s record in the league is very good, better for example than Alan Curbishley, George Burley, Sam Allardyce or several other potential candidates for his job. In his seven full seasons he finished as top of division one, followed by relegation in eighteenth, then play-off failure following a third place finish. Sunderland’s promotion as champions was followed by consecutive seventh place finishes – agonisingly close to European football – until last season’s nosedive to seventeenth and a last day reprieve from relegation.



Reid has been recruiting heavily for this season. Steven Wright (known as Dumbo at Anfield) and Phil Babb were brought in to stiffen the defence, Matthew Piper had left Leicester’s troubled midfield and Tore Andre Flo and Marcus Stewart were bought, just before the transfer deadline, to improve a record that had seen Sunderland become the poorest goalscorers in the top flight. Add these good players (only Flo was overpriced) to the excellent Claudio Reyna, the hardworking Jason McAteer, a dependable goalkeeping set up with Sorensen and Myhre, the mercurial Julio Arca and the aging but prolific partnership of Phillips and Quinn and you have the nucleus of a very good side. A goalscoring midfielder would be nice, as would a high quality centre-half but in essence a side that should win more games than it loses.



For Sunderland under Peter Reid, results were OK and transfer dealings were better than average. Unfortunately Newcastle were improving quickly and Sunderland had the look of a team on the slide.



Time eventually told on Peter Reid. After seven and a half years, the spirit in the dressing room was fading. The Roker Roar was now more of a grumble at the Stadium of Light and to use the old clich, Peter Reid had taken the team as far as he could. Bryan Robson summed up the situation well this week when he pointed out that there is probably a natural length of tenure for a club manager, and it certainly isn’t as long as seven years. Once the enthusiasm wanes it is time to go and I think that in his heart-of-hearts Peter Reid was more relieved than disappointed when the end came. Sky TV will be buying a comfy pundit’s chair as we speak.

135 The football league has a shor

Less than six months since the ITV Digital collapse and less than six weeks since a failed court case to recover money, the football league has agreed to sell highlights packages to Carlton and Granada. In return the ITV companies have agreed not to send the league into penury by forcing the payment of £1m in legal fees. How the clubs must have wished they had swallowed their pride and accepted a cut in fees from ITV Digital six months ago.



The football league has announced that Granada and Carlton have won the bid to show edited highlights of football league games for the next two seasons. This is in addition to the deal with Sky to show live games which netted the league around £24m per year.



The terms of the Sky deal were very restrictive and this in turn drove down the residual price of edited highlights. Granada and Carlton have reportedly secured the rights for £1m per season, for two years. As an added sweetener Granada and Carlton have agreed to drop claims for £1m in legal fees owed when the league lost its legal bid to force the companies to honour the debts of their ‘subsidiary’ ITV Digital.



The only rival bid was from the BBC and Channel 5 and was believed to offer £650,000 per season for four years. This was rejected basically because the football league needs the money. You can’t pay players wages with pride and the moral high ground.



The restrictions on any highlights package came about because of the desperate situation the football league found itself in following the collapse of ITV Digital. Without signing the deal with Sky many clubs would have gone into administration and possibly receivership. So it is easy to be critical now – but many clubs owe their existence to a what now may be seen as a ‘bad deal’.



The restrictions regarding when highlights could be shown was particularly harsh stating that they could only be shown when Sky was not showing a live English, Scottish or Spanish match. Which would rule out Saturday night and Sunday afternoon the usual homes of highlights packages. The package programme could be a maximum of 30 minutes, denying the possibility of a comprehensive roundup. And there was a limit on the goals shown, including limiting news programme access to highlights and goals.



That the Football League has been forced to deal with Carlton and Granada must have upset many club chairmen. But in the end money talks. If they had realised this six months ago then perhaps ITV Digital would have survived and the clubs would have been richer for it.

134 Wembley, can the FA get anythi

ts, er key issues, of his transfer to us…”

I was quite shocked to hear this, and was surprised that Mr. Leppok hadn’t made me aware of this earlier.

“Furthermore Harry, she’s been misreported. Gigi wears rubber, not latex, er, so I’ve been told. Much easier to clear up the mess in rubber….er I really should be going now…”

So I decided to have a meeting with the players to see who had ‘liased’ with Gigi. I was staggered to learn all but two of them have ‘visited’ her quarters. The couple who hadn’t are Hughie Rodgers (who is a closet homosexual, but keep it to yourself) and Clementine Ungondu, our man mountain Ugandan centre-half.

“I’m a good boy boss.”

He proclaimed to me

“Just the way you’d like me.”

Which came across a little scarily but I’ll put it down to our different interpretations of the English language. Anyway the upshoot of the meeting was that the lads agreed to scale down their visits to Gigi during the season and they will take me along for a fact-finding mission.

Word got back to Gigi who was so delighted with my liberal stance she has agreed to sponsor our next home game, so I look forward to seeing her at the Worldcom bowl soon. Incidentally, harking back to the ongoing Ronaldo transfer saga, I’m told that the negotiations (still in Gigis headquarters) are in a tender area but I’m told it’s all coming together real good.

Another interesting thing to happen in the week was the revelation that Prince Charles has been writing letters to politicians about their policies and views. It has gone widely unreported that he has also been writing to football managers as the Prince is an avid follower of the game. I have it on good authority that Charles has written to Sir Alex Ferguson with a bit of advice as to how a knight of the realm should behave when out in public and I believe Gerard Houllier was also contacted with a packet of seeds contained within the letter. Apparently the seeds were for one of Charles’ favourite plants that he finds particularly relaxing and he felt Gerard may find this useful after his recent health problems.

Well I can also reveal that the Prince has written to me! In line with his letters to government ministers my letter was of a more forthright tone:

“Stop embarrassing yourself, and my British subjects, with your hopeless brand of outdated clueless football that has the people of America disgusted with the stereotype enforced that the English are boorish yobboes. Think about the image you portray and your duty to your nation. Therefore Mr. Flatcap I urge you to cease this embarrassment forthwith and resign!”

What utter rubbish! Now I’m a great royalist. I love the Queen (God bless her!) but Prince Charles really should stick to talking about things he understands as football seems to be a concept better understood by his flowers! Just look at my results since I took over! And look at how well the club owner appreciates my contribution. Following on from Peter Reid being given a couple of days rest because his Sunderland side are totally turgid, I asked Mr. Leppok if he’d do the same for me in such a situation.

“Harry, whenever you want it, you can have off as long as you like. Would you like to go now?”

See, I’m totally supported and have the full backing of the owner here!

Go Worldcoms!

Harry Flatcap

PS Don’t forget you can e-mail me at [email protected]

Harry Flatcap was in the presence of a rubber gloved Steve HealdAsk most football fans and the correct place for a national stadium is Wembley. Ask football fans whether ‘England on the road’ has been a success and they will also answer in the affirmative. So Wembley should be the National Stadium, but England fans would rather they didn’t always have to play there. Given the gargantuan £757m cost of Wembley, ‘England on the Road’ will never happen again. So a political decision that may well be detrimental to fans and the team has been pushed through for reasons that no one can adequately explain. Is the FA so unaccountable?



The reign of Sven Goran Eriksson has coincided with England not having to play at Wembley. After the moribund performance and defeat, at Wembley under Kevin Keegan, against Germany who would have dreamt of what was to follow. That a series of wins at provincial grounds would end with a last-minute draw at Old Trafford, which should have carried a health warning for potential ear damage, to ensure qualification. Well no one at the FA certainly, because the official line as put forward by Howard Wilkinson was that England should skip Korea-Japan 2002 and concentrate on Euro 2004 in Portugal. Certainly the loss of ‘home’ advantage, that the decommissioning of Wembley was to force, has not been the own goal that the FA may have expected.


For fans the ability to actually see their national team has been a revelation. Provincial cities are again full of people who own an England replica shirt as well as their club side. The growth in national pride in ‘our’ team can be traced upwards, in a straight line to that last match at Wembley. This growth may take longer to fade than it did to arrive but fade it will, and within five years of Wembley reopening we will again be faced with the FA bussing in coachloads of children for free entrance and then positioning them opposite the cameras to at least give the lie that the ground is half-full.



If anyone has any recollection of football internationals before Euro ’96 the dominant feature was the dreadful disinterest in attending internationals at Wembley. Friendly internationals would be lucky to attract 25 to 30 thousand spectators (similar to what Southampton attract to St Mary’s), with an extra ten or fifteen thousand for qualification matches. Only the glamour occasions against teams like Brazil, Germany, Italy or Scotland(?!?) would ever threaten the stadium capacity.



England against Slovakia will sell out any provincial club ground in England, do the FA honestly expect that it will sell out the new Wembley, whose metal arch can apparently be seen from central London.



The original reason for a ‘new Wembley’, much like the reason the country needed a ‘new Labour’ has now largely been forgotten. The reason was to host the 2006 World Cup (which went instead to Germany). As the World Cup is now likely to be rotated between Asia, Africa, Europe and North/South America, the next probable European World Cup is going to be in 2022. When a three way tussle between Italy (32 years after Italia ‘90), Spain (40 years after Spain ‘82) and England (56 years after 1966) is likely to erupt. If you think that it is a cut and dry win, then you probably work in Soho Square. After 2022, Europe may have to wait until 2038 before another chance – by which time the ‘new Wembley’ will probably need a refit, and a few rust spots may be visible on the arch, which can be seen from the summit of Ben Nevis, probably.



The final act of cynicism from the FA appeared to be its decision to reserve so many seats for corporate clients, because they have the cash to help fund the ludicrous cost of the project. So far from having a capacity that will allow in the ordinary fan, the capacity for ordinary fans will be little more than at Old Trafford or at the proposed new stadiums for Liverpool, Arsenal or Everton.



However the final act of cynicism came in reports that the FA is to move into the souvenir business. If you too have bought a ‘snow pope’ in one of those little shops on the drag into Rome’s St Peters Square you will be delighted to learn that there are reports that the FA are looking for a contractor, the FA don’t appear to do very much themselves, to mould the rubble from the twin towers into souvenirs. No doubt the results of this tawdry exercise will be available to punters at a 1000% markup. Also available will be a ‘snow shake Wembley’ version where you shake the little dome and a snow storm of money erupts around the metal arch, which you can see from space, possibly.

133 Harry Flatcap and the Gigi sca

second half Clementine began to sob hysterically. It’s not often you see an 18 stone Frank Bruno lookalike behave in this manner but hopefully he’ll react to the unusual science employed by Fred and become a better and stronger player for it.


Sadly, with the heart of our defence suffering a nervous breakdown we were
soon breached, and Boston romped home comfortable 4-2 winners, thus
clinching the championship, of which we congratulate them. The better team,
in my honest opinion, didn’t win the league but there are no sour grapes
here – We’ll just have to win the play-offs.



Speaking of the play-offs, one of our youngest fans, 4 year old Wayne
Fontana, very kindly explained to me how the play-offs work. We now play
Philadelphia Cheesies at their ground on Wednesday – Let’s hope for no hotel
disasters on our travels this time! – And then we play them back at the
Worldcom Stadium on Saturday. Then, as you Yanks can’t add 2 scores
together to produce an aggregate score (hey! Before you write to complain
I’m only joking!) if we have won a game each we play a 3rd tie the week
after.



So lets hope for a good solid play-off week and when we next speak we’ll be
marching towards the final!



All the best



Harry Flatcap



PS – Ronaldo transfer – Still ongoing – More news hopefully next week.



PPS – I spent all last week ‘battening down the hatches’ in preparation for
the hurricane blasting the coast of Florida only for it to peter out before
hitting us. I then learn that the house I own in Wolverhampton (and rent
out for a very reasonable rate) lost its chimney and had serious roof damage
due to the earthquake suffered in England this week. Just hasn’t been my
week has it?!?



PPPS – Don’t forget you can contact me via e-mail on
[email protected]


Hello and welcome to the latest news and views from life at the Florida Worldcoms. Remember you won’t read a more truthful column from a football manager anywhere other the one written by your good mate Harry Flatcap.

It was a momentous week for the Worldcoms, as we battled our way through our first round of play-off matches thanks to 2 wins over the Philadelphia Cheesies. After the trials and tribulations of last weeks drunken debauchery away to the Boston Stranglers, we needed a solid result so put us back on track. We got it, thanks to our much-admired defensive display, and the organisation new coach Stefan Effenburg gave the team in the days leading up to the match.

Sadly we had to wave goodbye to previous coach Fred Shuttleworth, whose stint with the Worldcoms lasted just one week. He was extradited back to Britain, as the police there wanted to talk about the mysterious burning down of the Boat and Horses Pub in Rochdale, where Fred was landlord up to him taking up the coaches job here in Florida. The fact that his wife was in the pub at the time suggests we won’t be seeing Fred back here again, so I re-commenced my search for a new number 2.

I fortunately heard the sad news that Stefan was out of work, and thought I’d give the lad a break by signing him up as coach until the end of the season. You may recall Stefan had a glittering career as midfield powerhouse in the all-conquering Bayern Munich side, until they decided not to renew his contract for this season, consequently a bidding war opened up for his services, with salaries as high as £100k a week quoted in the sports press. Unfortunately though this wasn’t enough for Stefan, who felt that a player of his standing, despite the global meltdown of players salaries due to declining television rights, deserved a greater salary than the ones offered.

Consequently nobody employed him and he hung his boots up, which is where we stepped in. Our Worldcom bosses seemed strangely delighted to be able to pay the staggeringly large salary that our new coach demanded. Welcome aboard Stefan!

With our new-found Teutonic organisation and my instruction to the players to kick their creative counterparts off the park, we raced into a 3 goal lead against the Cheesies. Only in the last 10 minutes, when we’d been reduced to 8 men courtesy of 3 strange sending offs, did we succumb to pressure but the 3-1 lead to take back to Florida was a valuable result. I have to question the integrity of the man in black with chiffon and turquoise shadowstripes. The fouls the 3 lads were dismissed for were not that bad, a little exuberant, and were first offences therefore surely only yellow card offences?

The fact that the Cheesies suffered a total of 3 broken legs, a shattered pelvis, a broken nose, 127 stitches, 3 ripped shirts and a bad case of botulism (we were accused, without evidence, of tampering with the Cheesies pitch-side Lucozade) it should not automatically follow that 3 of our lads should be sent off. Indeed, I instructed the lads to ‘rotate their fouling’ so that the worst the lads received was a yellow card each. I will contest each disciplinary case vigorously.

Fortunately we are not quite at the stage with FIFA and their ridiculous new ruling that a red card automatically carries an immediate one match ban. Therefore I can still kick up a fuss, shout a lot, and complain bitterly in the hope that the management committee will believe me and let my players off the hook.

More importantly, the 3 players red carded were all eligible to play in the 2nd leg of the Cheesies match whilst Philadelphia had to play a team of untried youngsters, allegedly because their starting 11 from our last match had been “brutally kicked off the park in the last match”. Sour grapes eh? Consequently we were able to score an early goal, shut up shop, and play out the remaining 89 minutes and thirty six seconds whilst racking up a 1-0 win. Sure the fans weren’t delirious about the performance – They’d all gone home well before the end – But at this nervy stage of the season results are more important.

The only injury concern we had going into the match involved lightening-quick superstar centre forward Clint Mattesson, who had strained his groin and was unable to play in the 2nd tie. I had no concern about this until the truth of the matter was unearthed by super-snooper journalist Ulrich Lekerman, who made our Clint front-page news with the revealing story that rather than resting between games our top scorer was living up to his top scorer reputation, forming a liaison with a character christened in the paper as ‘Latex lovely, rubber fetishist Giggles Ferdinando, or Gigi as she is known in the dominatrix world’.

I confronted Clint about this, and he couldn’t deny that the story was true, furthermore he accepted my 2 week fine with good grace and appreciated the need to ensure his dodgy joints obtained vital rest between matches. I was about to speak to Ulrich, give him my side of the story, how I’d fined Clint and wouldn’t allow the club, with its high family morals, to sink into the gutter when our owner, Mr. Leppok, had a quiet word with me.

“Don’t talk to the press about this.”

“Why?”

I asked.

“Because, er, there may be more of our employees involved in this scandal and I want to keep a lid on it.”

“Such as who?”

I demanded to know

“I’ll make sure the players toe the line and pay the fine.”

“Yes, I’m sure you would”

Mr. Leppok seemed strangely agitated

“It’s just that, the, er, situation, is spread right through the club, with all manner of employees having had Gigi, er have knowledge of Gigi…In fact, some of our Worldcom advisors are currently using her premises as a, er, meeting room to thrash out, I mean, discuss, with Ronaldos advisors some of the finer poin