Man and Ball Issue Three

MAN AND BALL
SPHERE OF INFLUENCE
ISSUE THREE -- SEPTEMBER 2011 COVER -- GRAEME BANDEIRA >
OPEN
DANNY CHADBURN >
When I stand and speak the world takes notice, My Babelfish language bellows, projecting globally, Im an inspiration to those who need it most, Giving opportunity and vocality to the ostracised. Im a photosynthetic catalyst, helping acorns become oaks, Encouraging investment over ignorance and isolation. Allowing nations to play a part on the world stage, I take my seat at the highest political table. Tackling corruption, creating infrastructure, Rebuilding communities, providing a future. Twelve regular pentagons and twenty regular hexagons, Compose my leather-clad sphere of influence
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< OPEN Find Your Way Back > 1 8
< Concrete Roots Jude Ellery reports on the Homeless World Cup
31 < The Chairman Diaries -- Episode Three Has David Hartricks hero finally turned a corner? 37 < Sudan Before The Split Gary Al-Smith returns with another tale from Africa Smugglers Blues > 43 49 < How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love Nordic Football Dr Strangelove, AKA Charlie Anderson, on History, Geography and GCSEs Domestic Bliss > 54 58 < The Special Relationship What links U2 with football in America? Niall Farrell reveals all. 67 < Lets Have Those Wankers! Michal Zacodny tells the story of Polands nearly men Never Say Never > 78 85 < Heroes In Abstraction Chris Mann eulogises eleven legends CLOSE >
FIND YOUR WAY BACK
ThebackstreetsofLondononarainy Sundaymorning,justbeforedawn, areanidealplacetobealonewith yourthoughts.Nigelhadbeenwanderingforhours,tryingtopullhis outofthetangleofemotionswhich recent developments had wrought. Lostinhistroubles,hehadlittlecare foranythingelse,atthemoment. Whenthefirstdropshadbegunhe hadntevennoticed.Theyhadincreasedintoasteadydrizzlewhich the troubled god had ignored until theweatherinsisted,nearlysoaking himthrough.Angeredattheintrusionintohismisery,hehadfinally, grudgingly,sparedathoughttocraft amactowardoffthedownpour. Furtherprotection,intheformofa hatorumbrella,hedeniedhimself.
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FIND YOUR WAY BACK
The oppressive weather suited his moodtoatee.Heletthedirtywater, filledwiththesootandmireofthe city,plasterhishairtohisforehead, rivuletsfirstdripping,thenrunning downhisbrow,hisnoseandfromhis beard.Hewasnotthetypetopermit tearstoflowfreely;thushemelded himselfwiththedelugeandallowed ittoexpresshissorrow. Thegirlwasatthecenterofit.He hadopenedhimselfuptoher,only tofindthatshe--andherbrother-had been playing him for a fool. Hadnt he learnt that lesson ages ago? Apparentlynot. Before he knew Liv for what she trulywas,hehadmarveledatthe
vibrance of her spirit, so rare in a mortal.Hehadstruggledtoreveal himself to her; wondered how he couldfashionalifewithher,brief thoughitmaybe.Hehadseenhow wellandhappilytheAmericancouplehadtakentotheirpartnershipand enviedthem. Nigelhadworkedaloneforaneternity.Hehadenjoyedbriefdalliances but,untilnow,hadneverconsidered anywomanhisequal.Maybeitwas timehedid.Caughtinthisblinding infatuation,hehadevenconsidered petitioningtheLadytoraisethegirl up,sothatshetrulycouldbecome hisequal,onlytodiscoverthatithad alreadybeendoneandLivwashere tosupplanthim. Thethoughtfilledhimwithrageand
bitterness,butitwasnotforLivor fortheLady.Instead,itwasdirected inward. Nigel knew that he had broughtthisonhimself.Evenbefore managingtoputhimselfoutofcommissionfornighonacentury,all becausehewasinthemoodforabit of fun, he had been asking for it. Whenevermatterscametoahead, he allowed his emotions to rule, ratherthanhiswit. Thathadlongservedhimwell,ifnot efficiently.Followinginhisheadstrong ways, Britain had forged a globalempire.Theyhadsteppedon manyfeetalongtheway,itwastrue, meddlingintheaffairsofIndiaand Cathay,contributingtheoppression oreradicationofnativeculturesin SouthAfrica,AustraliaandAmerica, andfailingtoanswertheIrishQuestion,
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closertohome. Whilehehadslept,thebutchersbill had come due. Truth be told, he wasntsurethathecouldhavepreventedthedeclineoftheEmpirehad hebeenawake,butitmatterednot. Hecouldnotchangewhatwas.And now,whatisandwhatwillbehad beenpassedontothechargeofanother. Hewantedtofighttotakebackwhat washis--whathadbeenhis.Nigel knewbetter,though.TheLordand Ladywereall.Whattheyhadgiven, theycouldreclaim.Hehadntthe powertostandagainstthem,and,if hedid,thenallthatwasgoodinlife would stand against him. Yet, he wasstrong,inbody,mindandspirit. Helongedtohavepurpose,toknow themindoftheLady.
Thethoughtclungtohim,andasit did,therainintensified,commensuratewithhisgrowingself-pity.He steppedoutfromanarrowsidestreet intoawiderthoroughfare.Across the road was a small common, replete with the typical benches and commemorative statue. The open spaceaffordedaviewofthehorizon. Asoftgreylightwaspushingupat the black night and the thick grey cloudsofthestormwerebecoming visible.Morningwasapproaching butNigelwasntreadytoacceptthe hopeitoffered. In the open, the wind whipped aroundhim,tryingtoliftthetailsof hismacandexposehimtothestorm; shortgustshittinghisfacelikeangry slaps,intendedtobringhimtohis senses.Undeterred,Nigeltightened
thebeltandraisedthecollarofhis coat.Then,duckinghisheadagainst thegale,hecrossedtheroad,making forthepark. Cutting through it, he stuck to the curvedwalkway,whichbroughthim aroundtothestatue,amilitaryfigure inregalposestaringoffintothe distance. Some contemporary of Wellingtons,judgingfromtheuniform,butNigelhadlittleinterest.As hepassedthemonument,henoticed anotherfiguremovingtowardshim throughtherain. Eyeswidening,hestoppedshort.It wasawomaninanelegantdressthat shimmeredsoftlydespitethelackof lightinthepre-dawn.Herskinwas paleandshehadstrongbutfairfeatures.Herlongtressesflowedfreely
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inthewindbutwereuntouchedby therain.Evenfromthisdistancehe couldseethedeepwellsofhereyes. ItwastheLady. Instinct,morethanfear,madehim lookpasther.Intheshadows,atthe fargatetotheparkstoodatalldark figure,wearingahelmanddarkarmour.Hishandrestedonthehaftofa sword.Throughthevisor,Nigelcould feelhisgaze,aswell.TheLord. Child,asoft,melodiusvoiceintoned. Nigelshiftedhisgazefromthedistant figureoftheLord.TheLadystood beforehimnow,hereyessearching deep into his own. Blushing, he bowedhisheadandwenttooneknee.
Mother,hemurmured. Forthatwaswhatshewas;Mother ofeverything. Rise, child, she said. You are troubled by what I have done. Come, talk with me. I will grant yourwishes--bothofthem.
As Nigel rose back to his feet, he lookedather,confused. Wishes,MLady? Yes,Nigel.Didyounotdesireto know my mind and to have purpose? Ittookamomentforunderstanding to dawn on the stunned god, but when it did, a bright smile broke throughthestormofhismind.He noddedgratefullyatthewomanbeforehim. ThatIdid,MLady. Shesmiledbackathim,withahint ofmatronlypride,andextendedan arm. Come, walk with me and I shallexplainwhatitisIrequireof
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youandwhy. Beaming,Nigelheldouthisarmfor hertoholdandfellintostep.Together, they backtracked along the meandering path which Nigel had takenthroughthenight,puttingthe dawn and, with its coming, the slowly dissipating storm, both at theirbacks.Astheyleftthecommon,theLordwatchedafterthema moment more, before relaxing his griponhisweaponandslowlyfadingfromview. Thishugeramblingcityisquitea changefromthetinyvillagewhich satonthesebankswhentheRomans arrived,isntit,mychild? Ithasgrownmuch,MLady.
Indeed,verymuch.Shesmiled. There are so many humans now, andtheyhavelearnedquickly.They cantraveltothefarreachesofthe planetinlessthanadayorspeakto eachotherinstantlyacrossanydistance, they can kill with impunity butwillstruggletopreserveevery lastdropoflife,andtheyseektounlockthesecretsoftheuniverseeven though they do not comprehend themselves. Therewasaconcernedlookonher facenow. Thisisthemostdifficulttimefora mother,Nigel.Manhasreachedhis adolescence.Hebelievesthathecan fendforhimselfnow,andhasnoneed forgodsorguidance.Thestrongest do many things in the name of
progress,believingthattheyareshapingabetterworld.Yet,howcanyou shapewhatyoudonotcomprehend? AndhowdoIteachthemwhenthey willnolongerlisten,Nigel? The god shook his head. He, too, had wondered the same thing. It troubled him that those who knew besthadnoanswer.TheLadywent on. SoManseekstoordereverything tohiswill,tomakethisasafeplace. Yet,hemustfacedangerandchallengetocontinuetogrow.Hestrugglestofindthebalanceandmisses themarkfallingbothshortandlong andtotheleftandrightinhisefforts. And as he struggles, many reject thewayofthestrong-willedandfall
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bythewayside. Shenoddedtowardsapileofrubbish piled against a wall. Nigel saw a cardboardbox,withragsandnewspapersstickingouttheends.Even throughthelightrainwhichstillfell, hecouldsmellatraceofsweatand urine. Then he focused on dirty grimyfingerspokingoutfromone of the rags. A man was sleeping thereinthegutter.Anemptyfifthof vodka lay just out of reach of the gnarledhand. Hehadseenmanylikethissincehe had awoken from his slumber; far morethanthefewmiscreantswho had existed in the harsher world which had existed prior to his absence.Witheverythingavailableto theminthisnewworld,hedidnot
understand why they took to the streetsinsuchnumbers. TheSocietyofManisnottheonly way of life, Nigel the Lady said, Evenifthoseinpowercanseeno other. Nigelturnedtoher,seekingexplanation. And the powerful have made the worldsuchatinyplace,thatthereare toofewplacesforthosewhoseeka different path. Unable to escape, theyhideinplainsight,onlynoticeablewhentheyintrudeongrander plans. Yet, they are my children, too, Nigel.Theyneedmycareandprotectionasdearlyasany.
Youwouldhavemeshepherdthem, MLady? Shesmiledagain.NoNigel.They mustmaketheirownwayandtheir own choices, the same as the rest. Soon, there may be one suited to guidingthem.Iwouldonlyaskthat youkeeptheminyourthoughtsas yougoaboutyourduties. Andwhataremyduties,MLady? Shelaughed,brightly,asifhehad madeajest. Godsarenotmuchdifferentthan Man,itwouldseem,andonlyalittle wiserinaffairsoftheheart. Shestoppedandturnedtohim.He faced her and she reached up to
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lightlytouchhischeek,grinningat thebemusedlookuponhisface. Yourdutiesarewhattheyhavealways been, Nigel. Look after the peopleofthisplace. ButIthoughtthatyouwishedfor-- Herfingerstouchedhislips,silencinghim. Livismeanttohelpyou;toground you. You have missed much in choosingthetimeyoudidtotakea rest. Hestartedtoprotestbeforerealising shewasnowjestingwithhim. Followwhatisinyourheart,Nigel. Thegirlwillbeaboontoyou.
Andwhatofherbrother?ShouldI givehimmytrust,aswell? A look of pain crossed the Ladys face. Amothermustsometimesbehard withherchildren,Nigel.Aneagle dropsitschicksfromthesideofa mountain,onlyswoopinginatthe last moment, if they fail to take wing.Then,shecarriesthemupand dropsthemagain.Suchtreatment doesntalwaysengendertrust. Im afraid that Mal will have to travelahardroadtoprepareforwhat Ihaveinmindforhim.Shelooked backatthecardboardsheltersadly andbegantomoveon.Nigeltook upherarmoncemoreandwalked alonginquietthought.
Suddenly,theysteppedoutintothe BelvedereRoad,nearhisflat.The Ladylookedupathim. Iwilltakeyourleavenow,butfirst Iwishtothankyouforhelpingthose ofmychildrenlikethatmanwejust left. MLady?Nigelstuttered.Tobe honest,Ihaveneverreallytakennoticeofthembefore. Iknow,shesmiled,butyouhave aidedthemnonetheless.Nowgoto her.Sheiswaiting.
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DANNY CHADBURN >
One hundred million homeless; where is the love? A ball can change the world, or give it a shove. You got a spare set of shinpads, guv?
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JUDE ELLERY >
A ball can teach you teamwork. A ball can teach you discipline. We are trying to make our lives better, and every person here has the chance to make their life better because of a ball. Colin Farrell, Kicking It.
Whether we lost that game ve or fteen-nil I cant recall, but thats an irrelevant detail, as was the chronic knee injury which saw me wield the sellotaped-up ag that Sunday morning, turning away in despair as ball after ball poured into our goal.
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But this articles not about me, or the sorry state of my team. Nor is it about anything that happens between the lines on bumpy, grass-shy pub league pitches the length and breadth of the country. No, the football was as forgettable as ever; it was events o the pitch that warrant this tale. As I turned my back on the action both physically and metaphorically, I noticed that a spectator had arrived. A patron, beyond my dads occasional visit, or, more rarely, a players reluctant girlfriend (wit woo!), was almost as noteworthy as our team scoring a goal. This fellow was quite clearly none of the above. I recognised him as Big Issue Guy, who -- youve guessed it --
is the guy who stands in the town centre selling copies of The Big Issue. Hes in the same place every day, spouting a tune only he knows that boasts carefully crafted lines like Big Issue! Big Issue! and Get your Big Issue! Hes quite the character. Big Issue Guy struck up a conversation with our manager about something or other. I think it began with an enquiry regarding the score, which nobody actually knew by that point. Probably because wed given him the time of day -- I imagine he gets blanked quite frequently -- and probably because of his position in society, he sided with the underdogs, and for the last quarter of the game became our teams unocial mascot, shouting his support enthu-
siastically from the touchline, much to the bemusement and amusement of our players. All very harmless, Im sure youll agree. I couldnt tell you whether our team were laughing with him or at him, but he didnt seem to mind, or realise, either way. Im not going to pretend this guys all there up top. But who cares? He was enjoying himself, and our players were momentarily lifted from their gloom, even as the umpteenth goal entangled itself in the twine behind our unfortunate keeper. What followed though was disappointing. Perhaps noticing that our team was utter cack, Big Issue Guy proceeded to show o his ball skills in an impromptu audition for a place
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in the team. He was actually quite good. When he begged to come along to training next week our manager told him in great detail where we trained and what time to get there -- then deliberately told him the wrong day. I pleaded with our manager to do right by Big Issue Guy and get him along. Hey, even if hes useless itll be a laugh, boss! But no, he was having none of it. Its this kind of discrimination that holds homeless people back from rejoining society. Im not for one minute suggesting that our lowly pub side could launch this hapless chaps football career, or even that it was our duty to give out charity. Give us a ball and eleven strangers
to play against and were a charity case ourselves. Nevertheless, just allowing him along to training wouldve made him feel valued, instead of marginalised, for once. Hell, it wouldve at least meant wed have enough for a game of four on four at the end of our dismally attended training sessions. Unfortunately this behaviour towards down-and-outs is not uncommon, nor is it solely a British problem. Instances range from the sort of petty schoolyard exclusion described above, to Bum Wars in the States and even the occasional Clockwork Orange style beating. The homeless simply arent seen as human beings any more. And do the authorities give a crap? Given that its the people with money, who
pay taxes, elect politicians and keep the constabulary in business, not bloody likely. In most places, the solution to homelessness tends to be herding them out of sight of the well-to-do, and, if resistance is offered, jail.
A world away from pub league football, millions of pounds were being transferred from one Swiss bank account to another this summer, as English Premier League clubs hurried to strengthen their playing squads before Michel Platinis Financial Fair Play rules come into play. Most of the red top column inches revolved around London and Manchester, with Arsenal and United both spending over 50m on new
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talent, and Manchester City dwarfpower. Thanks to their own bottoming both clubs with an outgoings colless pit -- Qatar Investment Authority -umn totalling 81m, of which almost PSGs outlay of around 75m was six half was spent on Argentine striker times that of Ligue 1 champions Sergio Aguero. Lille, and, as if to Somehow, Chelsea PSG spent just under prove they should went mostly unnoimmediately be spo40m on their own ticed as they tried to ken of in the same match this, in the Argentine starlet breath as Manchesend parting with ter City, spent just 75m. Well over 500m was lavunder 40m on their own Argentine ished on talent in England, with ve starlet, 22-year-old Javier Pastore. clubs, Liverpool being the other, Leonardos team has also been linked parting with over 50m. with global icon David Beckham, whose contract with LA Galaxy runs On the other side of the English out at the end of this MLS season. Channel, Paris Saint Germain went on a spending spree of their own, Les Parisiens home is the 48,000 with an eye towards winning their capacity Parc des Princes, located in rst domestic title since 1994, and, the Arrondissement de Passy, the eventually, joining the aforemenequivalent to New York's Upper East tioned English clubs as a global superSide or London's Chelsea and Kens-
ington. Just across the Seine is the even richer Seventh Arrondissement, comprising the famous Eiel Tower, Napoleons resting place lHtel des Invalides, and several world famous museums, including the Muse d'Orsay and the Muse du quai Branly. These two districts, along with the Sixth and Eighth Arrondissements and the suburb Neilly, form Paris Ouest, an aristocratic district that has been the home to the French upper class since the 17th century. The stadiums name is derived from a forest, used for hunting by royalty in the 18th century, that formerly surrounded the area. PSGs record purchase Pastore arrived in these auent environs in
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August, after his transfer from Italian side Palermo. He will earn a salary of around 4m; fast forward two months and ve goals and two assists in seven starts for the tabletoppers have proven it a wise investment. But back to August. As further expensive imports ew into the capital, another story was unfolding in stark contrast to the glitz and glamour of professional football and oil tycoons. As such, it went virtually unreported. Still, news of the ongoing events reached Pastore, who, less than a month into his stay in a strange new country, took some time out of his busy schedule to stroll down to the Champ de Mars, a huge green area between the Eiel Tower and the cole Militaire. This
was the picturesque setting for the ninth annual Homeless World Cup. This bourgeois backdrop couldnt be much further from the day-to-day lives of the more than 500 players comprising the 64 teams who competed in this years tournament (48 in the mens competition and 16 in the womens). These players represent not only their counties, but 100 million homeless people worldwide (of which 25,000 can be found in the French capital). None of these players is likely to ever earn as much as Pastore, but fair play to PSGs new superstar for greeting his fellow Argentines prior to kick-o on 21 August and lending his support. In a short interview with the Homeless World Cups
team, Pastore supported the tournaments ocial motto, A ball can change the world: The event is fantastic Football can take you away from many problems and help you meet new people. The young playmakers decisionmaking in his short career has proved exemplary both on and o the eld, and his attendance, as well as endorsements by World Cup 98 winners Emmanuel Petit and Lilian Thuram, were all welcomed by head of the French homeless team, Benoit Danneau: Pastore gave up some of his time and showed he really cared about the event. We are delighted to have been able to interest such people from the footballing world in the Homeless World Cup. They have got behind the tournament
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because of their belief in social integration in sport. Alongside the rst four days of football, Danneaus team ran an international symposium on the theme of the street: drawn into it, living in it, escaping it, and not falling back. Players, social workers and spectators could exchange ideas for solving the global problem of le sansabrisme. Other global ambassadors for the project include Didier Drogba, Rio Ferdinand and Eric Cantona, the latter providing the voiceover in the promotional video for Paris 2011. The tournament is backed by UEFA and the United Nations and has a host of high prole commercial sponsors, including Nike, Eurosport,
Specsavers and adult education service A4E. Manchester United, Real Madrid and Tottenham Hotspur are all signed up as ocial partners. Uniteds surprise 2010 signing, Tiago Manuel Dias Correira -- or Bb to you and me -- did not actually play in the 2009 tournament as widely reported, but the Portuguese did feature in the European Street Football Festival in Bosnia in the same year, which is where the confusion lies. Although a slow start to his United career, a subsequent loan to Besiktas and then a cruciate ligament injury have somewhat dampened the excitement surrounding the youngsters catapult into the limelight, he is still a shining beacon for others around the world who, for whatever reason, have found them-
selves in precarious circumstances.
The Stade de France, in Saint-Denis, holds a special place in the heart of Emmanuel Petit. With France leading 2-0 in the nal of the 1998 World Cup, an optimistic run into Brazilian territory saw the pitch open up before the midelder. Finding himself with only Cludio Taarel to beat, his left foot unerringly slotted home the Fdration Franaise de Footballs 1,000th goal, and the last World Cup goal of the 20th century, to wrap up the biggest trophy in football. Camera ashes joined incandescent oodlights to light up Frances nest footballing hour, rebounding into the night sky from still-sparkling steel nuts and bolts
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that bound together the ovalshaped arena. The fth-largest stadium in Europe - and largest modular stadium in the world -- it replaced the Parc des Princes as Frances national stadium upon its completion only six months prior to that memorable night, custom built for the World Cup. As well as leaving a sporting legacy, the tournament provided an enormous boost to the Parisian infrastructure, especially in the extension of the metro and the development of the crime-riddled communes of SaintDenis, Aubervilliers and Saint-Ouen. What better location to pick for the draw for this years Homeless World Cup, which can provide a comparable boost for Frances -- and the worlds -- homeless population?
And who better to pick the teams from the hat? With the sun providing the illumination this time around, the stage was set for Petit to decide the fates of each participating nation, who were eagerly gathered in the historic location. The quality of the teams varies year upon year, but like mainstream international football there are always favourites. This year, the mens draw included last years winners Brazil, number one-ranked Portugal, and Poland. With the groups decided, a parade through the capital ensued on the following day; the route running from the historic Trocadero Square, via the Eiel Tower, and concluding at the Champ de Mars, where Libert,
Egalit and Fraternit awaited the wide-eyed visitors. These were the names given to the three specially made mini pitches, each one measuring 22 by 16 metres. On them, a 21st-century revolution would continue to unfold over the following week; 392 four-on-four matches yielded 3,984 goals and two thrilling nals, both decided by the odd goal in seven. For those wondering about discipline in a tournament contested by drug addicts and former criminals, here are some surprising statistics: less than one in ten matches saw a blue card issued (a sin bin punishment), and not one player was dismissed in either the mens or womens competition. A team of eight referees ociated the tourna-
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ment, including Kim Milton Neilsen, whose professional career comprised 154 internationals, and famously, the dismissal of David Beckham in Saint-tienne at France 98. Australias Street Socceroos won the fair play award, which they had also claimed two years previously in Milan. More deserving of notice than the play, however, were the tears of joy, the hugs, the friendships and the everlasting memories created in only one week of football. It is estimated that 30,000 homeless people beneted from pre-tournament training and trials for Paris 2011. The wider impact is truly immeasurable. The rst Homeless World Cup was
played in Graz, Austria, in 2003, but The magazine instantly became a the wheels were actually set in mobadge of protest, indicative of the tion a decade earlier. In the 90s, publics distaste for the prevailing Britains Conservative political atmosphere. government oered Street papers are In an interview with little hope for a social now read by over the Guardians David entrepreneur looking 30 million people Conn in 2006, Young to improve the lives of said, We Scots never every year the poor. Desperate bought into Margaret for a way to help the underclass help Thatcher's 'there's no such thing as themselves, Edinburghs Mel Young society'. People were totally opnoticed the positive eect The Big posed to that whole Conservative Issue, then on sale only in England, philosophy We were just in the could have on its vendors. It alright place at the right time. lowed them to address key problems brought on by homelessness: Street papers are now read by over low self-esteem, lack of condence 30 million people worldwide every year, helping 100,000 homeless or and the diculty of reintegration. long-term unemployed people. So, in 1993 The Big Issue In Scotland The idea for an international football was launched. The rst edition sold tournament for the worlds underclass out its printing of 25,000 copies.
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may not seem like the logical progression, but it turned out to be a stroke of genius. Sitting in a bar in Cape Town, in 2001, were Young, Harald Schmied, a representative of the Austrian street paper Megaphon, and Peter ten Caat, from Utrechts street paper Straat. They were relaxing after the sixth annual International Network of Street Papers conference -- another organisation co-founded by Young. Over a pint, the trio discussed the need for an international language for homeless people to communicate with each other around the world; to help them help themselves; to hand power back to them and make them the centre of the solution. The three wise men came to realise that such a language already existed: football.
The rest, as they say, is history -- or history in the making, to be accurate. The latest chapter was written in Paris, but this was only a short stop along the long road to eradicating homelessness. Next year the tournament is hosted by Mexico, and 2012 sees the roadshow move to Poland. Each tournament attempts to resolve a minuscule selection of the endless stories from around the world, revealing the wide-reaching impact of Youngs vision and the almost incomprehensible pervasiveness of the human condition it addresses.
in a developing nation. Despite -- or because of -- these horric conditions, India is the home of Slum Soccer: street leagues where 10,000 players regularly get together to play football. Its incredible to imagine this goes on in areas where people die every day through lack of clean water. Irelands situation is not nearly as bad as Indias, but its still impressive to discover that more than 500 players compete in the Irish Street League every week. From this pool a squad of eight was selected to compete at the Homeless World Cup. Previously there was a strong Dublin bias, but now the leagues have grown stronger across the country and this year there was a player from Belfast and three from Longford.
Viewers of Danny Boyles Slumdog Millionaire may be able to begin to imagine what its like to be homeless
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Sean Kavanagh, who runs the Irish Big Issue and has managed their homeless team since the World Cups inception in 2003, has witnessed rst hand how the tournament has developed over the years: In the beginning there were three or four teams that were good and the rest were down the lower end, but now the standard -- especially from the countries that have street leagues -- has increased immensely. As the tournament has grown in both the quantity and quality of teams, small amendments to the rules have been made. One of the best improvements is the two defender rule, as Kavanagh explained: The idea of having only two de-
fenders back in your own half and three forwards has opened the game up a lot. [That rule] came in three years ago. Prior to that, it was a bit physical because there wasnt that much space. Now its become much more technical and, consequently, its a much better game for it. It doesnt do it justice on TV or video, you really have to see it in live action. Generally speaking if you watch this game youll nd it hard to watch 11-a-side afterwards, because its so pedestrian in comparison. Due to their aliation with the Irish Football Association, the Irish players are awarded an ocial cap every time they represent their country. Their kit is also provided by the FAI. Kavanagh again: The only condi-
tion is that we have to wear the same kit as the international team so we cant actually have sponsorship on the jerseys. Its a great thrill for the lads to have their names printed on the back of an international jersey. Ireland, along with Spain, Kenya, Russia and the USA, were featured in the 2008 documentary Kicking It, which followed the fortunes of several players at Cape Town 2006. Like this years event, the 2006 Homeless World Cup was supported by celebrities. Archbishop Desmond Tutu spoke before the cheering, vuvuzela-honking crowd prior to kick o with a familiarly friendly address: Welcome, welcome, welcome to sunny, sunny South Africa. Welcome,
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welcome all of you wonderful people from dierent parts of the world. Portugal legend Eusebio kicked the rst ball at the 06 tournament, describing it as a poignant moment for everyone. Russia won the competition. In 2006, Ireland had an excellent goalkeeper in 23-year-old Damien, who was one of the players followed in Kicking It. He guided his nation to a 17th-placed nish. A heroin epidemic in Dublin had left hundreds of young people on the streets, and Damien, a recovering addict, missed one of Irelands games after forgetting to take his medication one morning. Kavanagh explained the importance of having a good player between the sticks:
The keeper is the mainstay in the team. Youre depending on him because hes shouting instructions the whole time. Its such a fast moving game that hes the only one who has a clear view of everything, so having a good keeper who communicates well and distributes the ball well is vital. In Ireland, it costs around 80,000 a year to keep someone in jail, which is where a large percentage of homeless people invariably end up. The United States estimate each homeless person costs society around $60,000 per year, and $40,000 alone to place one person in an emergency shelter in New York. Like smoking and alcohol abuse, one would think it makes nancial sense for governments around the
world to solve this problem by investing in it, instead of ignoring it. What has the world come to anyway, when we need to cite nancial evidence to persuade authorities to help their fellow man?
Unlike a lot of the teams in Paris, The United States team came together only one day before the event. Manager Rob Cann explains: We have a national cup and regional events. The national event is the Street Soccer USA Cup which featured 22 teams from 18 US cities. We then selected the top eight ambassadors on the men's side and the top eight on the women's side to participate in the Homeless World
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Cup. So it was never about winning the whole thing, it was about bringing together people who had earned the opportunity to wear the Team USA colours. The US nished 18th, with which Cann was very pleased:
game-plan and persevered. This is the type of attitude and determination it takes to overcome homelessness: sticking to the plan you create for yourself and never giving up.
During the trip the Americans visited the Eiel Tower, the Louvre, Notre Dame and the Pre Lachaise It was our best nish in the tournaCemetery, the resting place of Jim ment ever. But overMorrison. Cann said: all the nal position is SSUSA realises a Some of the best not as important as 75% success rate in moments of the trip how we felt on the inhappen during time side after the event effecting a positive away from the pitch was over and we all life change where we were able were able to look to reect on the each other in the eye and feel great year's accomplishment and talk about what we had achieved. about what the future will hold for each player. The competition was erce and losing is never easy, but we stuck to our Continuing the good work back
home is Street Soccer USA, which, as Cann explained, aims to transfer job and life skills to homeless youth and adults through the platform of the team. By creating positive communities in places where they do not exist SSUSA is having success. With the assistance of coaches and volunteers, each player is held accountable to meet -- and even exceed -- their vision for a better self. Research shows that SSUSA reaches more than 20% of the chronically homeless in a given service area, and realises a 75% success rate in effecting a positive life change, such as addressing a substance abuse problem or mental health issue, securing full-time employment or moving o the street. The Homeless World Cup boasts similar gures, claiming that
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over 70% of participants improve their lives in some way or another after the last ball has been kicked.
Paris lit up in front of them -- it was a pretty awesome sight. Horseld is pragmatic about the immensity of the job facing people like her and Mel Young. As those returning to education after the tournament will learn, its best not to look for the end goal when its merely a speck in the distance, but instead break a mammoth task down into bitesize pieces. Todays world may not be bestsuited to a poverty free existence, so the only hope we have of eradicating homelessness is to literally change the world. This is a daunting task and the Homeless World Cup aims to break that down country by country, project by project, individual by individual.
The tournament's intention of removing the stigma and stereotypes around homelessness will have a far-reaching impact as that message is conveyed to a wider public audience. This attitude reminds me of a poster I have in my home, which depicts two Tibetan monks building a house, along with the words: Do not worry about how long it takes to get results. Just do it. This advice has never felt more pertinent, especially when looking at countries who are worse o than England.
A lot of the English players had never left their town before, let alone their country. Sightseeing in Paris in the height of summer couldnt fail to open their eyes to the possibilities of life: a climb to the top of the Eiel Tower and a history lesson at the Arc de Triomphe would teach them about dierent cultures; broaden their expectations and aspirations. Yet it was Paris at night that proved the highlight for Homeless Link sport development ocer Lindsey Horseld: Going to Sacre Coeur and seeing
The problem of homelessness is big in the Philippines. We are talking about 80% of the population. Aside
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from the street people or those who literally live on the streets, this gure includes the majority of the population that live in vast squatter communities in dierent cities in the country, not just in Manila. Reah Medenilla is a professional social worker and the executive director of the Urban Opportunities for Change Foundation, which has now run Team Jeepney for the past four Homeless World Cups. The Philippines team is named after the only street paper in developing Asia. The team was managed by former international player Rudy del Rosario, who played for the Philippines for 10 years. He was supported by Mark Maravilla, who reprised the assistant manager role
he held in Rio last year. They conducted try-outs far and wide, this year going including Cagayan De Oro and Bukidnon in their search, the southernmost parts of the country. From these trials, 16 players were invited to Manila in April, where they were whittled down to 8. Medinalla saw changes in the Philippines chosen players as early as the training period in the lead-up to the competition: We house the players together in a dorm. From diering backgrounds, although all from impoverished families, they had to deal with each other everyday. They learned to work and live together. The Homeless World Cup is set up in
a way that all teams remain for the duration, and all are competing for silverware come the last day. In nishing 25th at Rio 2010, Team Jeepney claimed the Host Cup, played out between the countries ranked 25 to 32. This year they left emptyhanded, but were content that they had improved, this time nding themselves in the top half come the last day, battling for the City Cup. They nished 24th overall. The team jetted back home on 29 August, and set foot in Ninoy Aquino International Airport an hour before midnight. They had brought with them a bag full of pasalubong -homecoming gifts -- but more valuable than these mementos were offers of scholarships that await the returning heroes. They were
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greeted at the airport by the two big rival TV networks, with interviews and congratulations aplenty. The players were proudly adorned with their medals, that every competitor was given. The real gift, though, is the opportunity to change their lives, and it is these players who will spread this opportunity upon their return. In April, Street Soccer Philippines was created to give them a more sustainable opportunity to remain involved in the sport, while at the same time promoting grassroots football. The players trained 200 children between the ages of 10 and 16, from marginalised communities in Quexon City and Cainta, Rizal. There were tournaments in May and August. The program was funded by
Basketball is the number one sport in The Phillipines, but football has just started to get big too. The amount Medinalla hopes to resume Street of support from home could be Soccer Philippines in October, this gauged simply by logging onto the time going to elementary and high Homeless World Cup ocial webschools in Quezon City. We will site, which was dominated by wellalso replicate the program in wishers for Team Jeepney. Mel provinces where our players live, so Young blogged that hosting the tourthey could coach and train kids from nament in The Phillipines is a real their own communipossibility, which also ties. This program is The real gift is the went down incredibly very close to the heart opportunity to well. of our players. They change their lives, receive allowances in Medinalla said: If this participating in this & its these players happens, in 2015 or program -- they need it who will spread later, it will be very good for the Philipto survive and some- this opportunity pines. It will put The how provide for their Philippines on the football map. It family, which is a big part of Filipino will create tourism opportunities for culture. our country as a whole. But most
a small community grant from the Starbucks Foundation.
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importantly, it will give us a very big opportunity to represent the Filipino poor and make their voices heard internationally. With Street Soccer Philippines now in place, the countrys results will no doubt improve in the coming years. Medinalla is more interested in the holistic eect: I also try to help in working with the players after the tournament, following up and try to make sure they use, for their own good, the once in a lifetime opportunity they were given to represent their country in an international football event.
They are coming back with a very dierent state of mind. Emotionally they are stronger, they believe in themselves, they want to be an example for their friends, peers and people around. They become Agents of Change. Daniel Copto is a psychologist and addictions counselor, and the founder and president of Street Soccer Mexico. He described how his returning players have also continued the legacy of the Homeless World Cup, since their rst tournament in 2005. They take friends to pitches to teach them the rules and the strategy, passing on the experience to which theyve been privileged. Copto began the program modestly, with he and a few friends supporting
it economically until Telmex Foundation became involved in 2009. Since then our program has been growing consistently. This year it involved 17,477 people from very dicult backgrounds, most of them living in extreme poverty, at risk of been homeless, at risk of getting engaged with organized crime -- all as a result of a lack of education, money and opportunities, or living in rehabilitation of drugs programs. There are 53 million homeless people in Mexico, a situation that Copto called critical. This is why their hosting of the competition in October 2012 is so important. It means the possibility of strengthening our program, of getting the at-
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tention of politicians about this issue, and getting their commitment and support. There will be 72 teams (56 male, 16 female), although this number could yet increase. We are certain that it is going to be a great event full of good surprises! While the World Cups are about all players, regardless of ability, it was hard to ignore Juan Jose Torres Mendoza, or Ppe, who was the standout goalkeeper in Paris. He kept three clean sheets and restricted the opposition to a solitary goal on three further occasions. He duly won the Best Goalkeeper award. Copto told me a little about his teams star: Ppe lives in Ciudad Jurez, Chihuahua. This city is con-
sidered the most dangerous city in the world right now. His father abandoned the family to go across the border in the United States. Ppe became the head of the family when he was 16. He is the oldest of ve. He shared with us that on many occasions when they had no food at home, he had to go work on illegal things to get money to buy food. Ppe dedicated some of the games to a friend who had been killed. He is going to play with a professional team, Revolution Tijuana. He must report with this team on 15 October. Unfortunately for his team, Ppe was powerless to prevent a 4-3 loss in the nal, a score that was repli-
cated in the womens draw, with Mexico again nishing as the losers. Although this situation was dicult, Copto explained how the teams overcame it, and were welcomed back into their communities with respect and admiration. He also stressed how the experience as a whole was valuable, regardless of this disappointment: During group therapy, before going to Paris, during the concentration and preparation previous to the tournament, we spoke about what if we have to cancel the trip to Paris? How would you feel? What would you think? Both teams responded about the great feeling they had only by thinking and working on that direction. They felt great about getting to know each other, about
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being coached, getting healthier. They all agreed that even if they couldnt go, the overall experience was great. I think that we all dreamed with winning the cup but we all knew that the experience of being there was much bigger than the trophy. That 4-3
lost to the latter on their way to glory, but ground out positive results at crucial times. They showed that, like in all walks of life, hard work is as important, if not more, than skill. That may be doing Scotland a disservice. The Lawrence brothers, William and Sean, were excellent throughout, and big bald Barry Gannon may have been a bit of a clich: good feet for a man of his size, but his pure desire to win -- and sometimes test the boundaries of the rules -- clearly rubbed o on his teammates. Gannon claimed the tournament gave him a new found condence. Like most of the players in Paris, he
is now looking forward to life with a newfound vigour, and making plans. At 37, he admits he is too old to make it as a footballer, so has instead signed up for a psychology degree, starting in September. Gannon need look no further for an example of what can be achieved following the tournament than his manager, David Duke. Duke became homeless himself after the death of his father led him to alcoholism and unemployment. He split from his girlfriend and found himself on the streets of Govan, just outside Glasgow. The area was, at one time in its existence, the centre of the world-renowned Clydeside shipbuilding industry, but is now a byword for deprivation and poverty, after the shipyards closed one by one in
One mans loss is another mans gain, and that 4-3 loss by Mexico in the mens competition meant a win for an unlikely team: Scotland. The Scots were typically British in their play, preferring thumping tackles, organisation and determination to the icks and tricks displayed by Portugal and Brazil. They actually
loss by Mexico meant a win for an unlikely team
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the 70s and 80s. Today, a meager handful of jobs remain with the surviving companies. Duke began selling The Big Issue and, hearing of the Homeless World Cup from the James Shields project for 16-25-year-olds on the street, auditioned for the team. He was picked, and after attending Gothenburg 2004 his life has completely transformed. Players are only allowed to compete in one tournament, but so absorbed was he with his experience that he took his coaching badges and returned the following year as assistant coach. A natural progression to head coach ensued, and he led the team to victory in Copenhagen 2007 in front of Prince Frederik of Denmark. Later in the week, his journey out of home-
lessness was completed, as he collected the keys to his new home. A second Homeless World Cup win as coach again this year may not quite rank alongside fellow Scot Alex Fergusons achievements, but what Duke is doing for the disadvantaged is easily as commendable. Having people involved who have been in terrible situations themselves and somehow found a way out can only inspire others to do the same. Duke said: "The Homeless World Cup was the rope that allowed me to pull myself out of a very dark hole. It helped me and now I can help others. When homeless people say to me I cant change, I say yes you can. I did. So can you."
To give these people a helping hand, Duke set up Street Soccer Scotland, a national league with weekly coaching sessions. One of the regular players, Ryan Wilson, was a big hit at Rio 2010, and is now hoping to follow in the footsteps of Bb and earn a contract at a professional club. He appeared on Wayne Rooneys Street Striker last year, where he made the nal 20. Wilson couldnt believe how quickly his situation changed because of football. Clubs had seen a few write-ups and videos from Rio and the TV series. All of a sudden I was being asked to get t and attend trial sessions! Like his manager, Wilson said that, oddly, ending up homeless was the
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best thing that ever happened for him. Speaking prior to Street Striker experience, he said, "I'd hit rock bottom. But now I have the Homeless World Cup and the show to look forward to and I get the keys to my own place at the end of the month.
The annual tournament is a small Spreading awareness is enorpart of the work we do. We work mously important. Tell a friend hard in the 51 weeks that surround about the Homeless World Cup, dithe tournament with our network of rect them to our website and join us over 70 national parton Facebook and TwitMen: ner organisations to ter. Become part of the 1st -- Scotland stimulate grassroots conversation and you football and engage become an important 2nd -- Mexico homeless people across part in making a dier3rd -- Brazil the world. ence
Homeless leagues like the ones mentioned in these stories are springing up all over the world, spreading the tournaments legacy and creating permanent change. The tournament itself is set to expand for the third successive year in 2012 when the teams congregate in Mexico City. As Young pointed out though, even homeless people who dont make it into their countrys team still benet:
4th -- Kenya
Even if they dont atVisit the Homeless tend [the nals], these World Cup website > to Women: people are engaged in watch every minute of 1st -- Kenya football and can benet every game from Paris 2nd -- Mexico from sporting participa2011. If youre fortu3rd -- Brazil tion. They gain health nate enough to be able, please donate some of and tness, self-esteem, 4th -- Argentina your hard-earned cash and begin to re-ingrate to a worthy cause. into society and are helped to nd education, jobs, and re-connect Artist Mandy Long donated a sculpwith loved ones.
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ture for a silent auction just after the tournament. The events commercial director, Elliot Stroud, had seen her work and contacted her to enquire if shed be interested in helping out. She was more than happy to oblige, although, ironically, she was so busy creating the fantastic piece that she didnt have time to watch any of the action. Longs work, which is a modern twist on a traditional football trophy, depicts the three stages of homelessness: the despair, the motivation to change, and nally the escape. The last stage is shown by a celebrating player crashing through a pane of glass, a theme she often uses. Its slightly shocking, it makes me
feel wow, something immediate has happened, you know? Its very dynamic, but at the same time it has that slightly edgy feeling, because, where I live anyway, most kinds of broken glass mean something bads happened. Having two sons who played youth football, Longs love of the professional game grew alongside her love of grassroots football. I think its just such a brilliant, brilliant game. I know we get a lot of bad publicity sometimes about hooliganism and inated salaries, but at grassroots level -- and I would say in the professional game as well -- I think it does a fantastic amount of good. The positives massively outweigh the negatives.
For further reading, Mel Youngs book Goal is an uplifting volume, describing how the rst two tournaments, Graz 2003 and Gothenburg 2004, aected the lives of those involved. Two lms worth watching are Kicking It, which focuses on Cape Town 2006 and follows the adventures of some real characters as they progress to diering stages of success, and Boisko bezdomnych (The Osiders), a ctional Polish production from 2008. Many thanks to Mel Young, Benoit Danneau, Mandy Long, Sean Kavanagh, Rob Cann, Daniel Copto, Lindsey Horseld and Reah Medenilla, who all provided fascinating interviews for this piece. And as for Big Issue Guy? Id have
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liked to interview him, but I havent seen him in months. The town centre is a quieter place in his absence -though some may argue this is a positive turn of events. I hope he has used The Big Issue as a springboard; a way o the streets and into a better life. Unfortunately, I know that a quite dierent reality is far more likely. Its events like the Homeless World Cup that can change this though, so please, please, get behind it in any way you can. Now, I just have to convince my girlfriend we need a holiday to Mexico in October next year
ADVERTISE HERE EMAIL manandball@mail.com
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A familiar face, and free lager to inebriate. Everyone knows, you must speculate to accumulate. Promises, promises leave an uncertain fate.
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THE CHAIRMAN DIARIES
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EPISODETHREE Day 21 -- Fear and loathing and so in the end me, Gazza and Merse are just laying there thinking what the hell just happened, where the fuck have they gone and where are our clothes? A laugh echoes round the room, no doubt born from the many bottles of lager were providing free to the gentlemen of the press. Its a story Ive read in all three players autobiographies, as has nearly everyone here, but Wethers carries it with such aection that the laugh is gen-
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uine, nevertheless. It is rare to nd a player, current or ex-, whom the press and the public generally agree on, but Wethers is that rarest and nest of breeds. He carries himself with such charm that the whole room seems to be revolving around his very presence. Standing at the back of the hotel function room, I look across the mini-world Ive created. Since buying this club, everything has felt like a trudge, but now that Ive managed to persuade Wethers to come on board, the weight has been lifted. Ive got a once genuinely world-class England midelder managing my club! This is the world I instructed my accountant to buy into; this is the football I want to be a part of. Since Wethers arrived Ive yet to
take the long way, when driving to the club. Not once. It has, of course, come at a huge price to both the club and my own pocket. Ive chosen to gamble and throw my own money in, way beyond the initial investment Id hoped to get away with. If any one of those bobble-hatted wankers on the terrace dare turn round and have a go at me now, Ill make them eat a copy of the balance sheet. Beyond any shadow of a doubt, the Wethers deal was the watershed moment in my tenure here. Im now in for far too many pennies and even more pounds. Not only is he on a salary that cant be supported by the club, in the long term, the contract which makes him
manager is only the half of it. To accommodate the amount that Wethers wanted, he now has two jobs: one as our manager, on a wage that will almost certainly be supplemented from my personal nancial input to the club, and one as an ambassador for my group of companies, which will involve the odd appearance at an event, the odd quotation on a local billboard, and another hefty wage that comes straight from my own pocket. Ive ocially gone football crazy. Ive forgotten every lesson business has ever taught me. Its all legit and above board, though. Having spoken to the FA and relevant authorities, they informed us that they were only inter-
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ested in the contract to be manager. Anything else was beyond their remit. The structure of the deal feels complicated and, to be frank, dishonest. But thats the businessman in me talking. The football chairman just wants Wethers at his club. On top of the contracts, theres the promises Ive made. He wants an assistant manger of his own choosing, at least one more coach, preferably with a defensive history, and the ground redeveloped, modernised and brought in line with a League Two club. Weve also talked about nding a better place to train than the pitch or the dog-shit strewn park, and were looking at the general level of equipment around the place.
In Wethers own words: If you play with shit, you cant expect more than that. But thats not all. He also wants some new players. Taking the promises on a one-byone basis, the sta will have to accept the two-job wage structure, and the ground needs demolishing, never mind redeveloping. Training and equipment-wise, Ive already done a deal with a sports shop and the local ve-a-side place. Wethers has had a quick look and is ne with it. Its that nal one that scares me most though. New players. I agree were in desperate need of new playing sta, but transfer fees, wages and various other expenses
all look like theyll be coming out of my pocket. Ive been thinking about approaching the bank for some sort of bond, but realistically its still going to cost me either way. Wethers has a contact book and a wave of goodwill to die for. Lets just hope he understands the words loan-deal and free transfer as keenly as he does negotiate terms. Fuck it, Ill worry about the nances later. Those nagging self-doubts can be killed with a few complimentary lagers (that I am, in fact, paying for) and a sandwich from the hastily-prepared buet. At the moment, I just want to enjoy riding the wave of excitement that comes with pulling o one of the greatest coups in nonLeague history.
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In short, Im living for the moment -something Ive not been able to do since joining the club. How about a comment for The Sun, Chairman? You must be delighted with all this? I smile across at the Dictaphone thrust in my direction. Soon as we heard the nationals were coming down, we decided we couldnt hold a press conference at the ground. In the same way as you cant polish a turd, you wouldnt take Angelina Jolie out on a date to a sewage outlet. Wethers is a draw and we thought we might increase the crowd by about 300, but judging by the media scrum his presence in this room has created alone, maybe we might claw a few more quid back
through the gates than I had anticipated. I prepare my response accordingly. Im pleased Craig has agreed to come on board our project Translation: I still cant believe I pulled this shit o! -- Now that I have a big-name manager I can legitimately use the most wanky of all football terms: project. We hope this is just the beginning of a long and fruitful relationship for both of us Translation: I hope he now takes us up next season or nancially I may as well bet on Lord Lucan riding Shergar home in the Grand National next year.
and we hope the people of this great town will be as excited as we are Translation: Come down and ll the ground full of something other than bobble-heads and members of Richards family, so that a match day doesnt feel so much like a trip to the proctologist. about a great future for this club. Translation: As long as no one checks the balance sheet longterm. The journalist moves on, perhaps a little surprised to nd a chairman so willing to stand aside and let others take the limelight. The truth is, I dont want to be up there with
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Wethers. He can handle himself, hes the draw, not me. Im a businessman, not a celebrity. Saying that, a businessman probably wouldnt be conducting his nancial aairs in the way I am at the moment; all outgoings with no guarantee of making any of it back. Theres that self-doubt again, nagging away. The Sun journo turns and nods back as he rejoins the pack hanging on Wethers every word. As the thought of the nancial suicide Im currently committing threatens to overwhelm me, I sensibly decide that alcohol is the only thing that will return my buzz, and head to the bar. To be continued...
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When civil war becomes a national institution, Footballs progress is hampered by political pollution. Desert Hawks offer a more positive solution.
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SUDAN BEFORE THE SPLIT
GARY AL -SMITH >
Midnight, 9 July 2011. The nation of Sudan split and the South became an independent state. However, in what seems like a distant past, unied Sudan was a proud founding member of the Confederation of African Football. What was life like before the split? In football terms, crimson-clad Sudan played an African Nations Cup qualier against Ghana, in 2010. Afterwards, I tried to paint a picture of the nation through their passionate team players. If you managed to get pitch-side at the exact moment South African referee Jerome Damon blew his
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whistle to end the game, youd have thought the team in red had won the World Cup, rather than merely surviving for a 0-0 away draw in an African Cup of Nations (AFCoN) qualier. Considering how much strife had hit the country -- both in football and elsewhere -- the meaning of the result earned in Kumasi should not be underestimated. Chances are, when you think Sudan you think disease, guns, hunger, war, extremism. Unfortunately, those conditions are all too prevalent, but like everywhere else in Africa, the Kush love their football. The Desert Hawks were one of four founding members of the Confederation of African Football (CAF) in the 1950s, at a time when nationalism and PanAfricanism were sweeping the
continent. Caught up in the fervor, the nation gained independence from the British in 1956 and immediately plunged into a 17-year civil war. Sudans FA president, Dr Kamal Shaddad, notes that, "At one time we had a president who dissolved all the football structures, including football clubs and the football associations. The basic structure was all destroyed and for a year, kids were not kicking balls on the street and that really aected us." Despite the civil war, they were able to host and win the seventh African Cup in 1970. The fact that there were only eight participants at the time may have helped -- it being somewhat more dicult currently,
with 16 teams. After that success, Sudan would appear in one last AFCoN in 1974. Subsequently, three decades came and went before the Falcons of Jediane qualied for Ghana 2008, ahead of the four-time World Cup veterans Tunisia. The achievement was thanks to Sudans two biggest clubs, Al Hilal Omdurman and El Merreikh, who had sparked a collective hope of resurgence. Al Hilal reached the semi-nal of the 2007 CAF Champions League, while El Merreikh lost in the nal of the Confederation Cup to Tunisia's CS Sfaxien. Although the CAF ranks Al Hilal as Africas fourth best side at
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Al-Mourada are seen as the third club in Sudans club football triumvirate, but struggles in the with nance and a d m i n i s t r a ti o n needed at mean that Al Hilal all levels to catapult Al Hilal and El Omdurman and El Merreikhs duopoly Sudanese football Merreikh provide doesnt help the into a consistent force the bulk of the playlocal game, either, ers for the national with the pair enjoying colossal -- and team. Worse, the other clubs, virtually exclusive -- amounts of unable to match the financial nancial support from two of the muscle of the big two, depend on country's leading businessmen. You government rations to survive. A must journey back to 1992 to nd change of mindset is needed at all another champion (Al Hilal Port levels to catapult Sudanese football Sudan). Prior to that, only two other into a consistent force. clubs (Al Mourada Omdurman in 1968, and Burri Khartoum in 1969) The social structure of Sudan society
the moment, Sudanese footballs relative success has been tempered by politics. For most of the three decades when Sudan was wandering the football desert, some of their best talent crossed the Red Sea to play A change for oil-rich clubs. mindset is
had won since 1962, when the local leagues rst began.
can also be blamed for the lack of ambition and exposure. Whenever burgeoning talents are spotted by clubs outside Sudan, it is dicult for the foreigners to keep them happy because they usually feel homesick. From the late 1990s into the new millennium, El Merreikhs Haytham Tambal was tipped to be the next George Weah. Too hot for Sudanese clubs to hold, South African club Orlando Pirates shanghaied him. He soon left, though, for one simple reason: at home his record as alltime national team goalscorer made him a megastar; in South Africa, he was just one of the guys. As well, the strong social bond between Sudanese football and politics makes it dicult for national
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team coaches -- especially expats -to select the best representation for the country. For instance, Sudan went for the Anglo-Cypriot manager Stephen Constantine between February 2009 and January 2011. He had big ideas for the Hawks, but alas, you do not change a peoples mentality overnight, especially Africans -- something Constantine tried to do with Sudan, and Malawi before that. Dr Kamal Shaddad again: The social linkages are so strong that [the Sudanese players] feel isolated any time they go out. So, any time you play against a country that has about 17 or more foreign-based players, you dont expect to come up tops."
It is for this reason that the draw with Ghana -- whose starting line-up elded nine players in Europes big four leagues -- was greeted with such glee by Sudans 11 sports dailies, and is why Ghanas media have been in such a mutinous mood. Also, there is the fact that Sudans national players play for honour; they are not paid any bonuses, whereas Ghanas team enjoys four gure sums. But Sudan deserved the draw, for they played well. Their rich history, sporting and otherwise, also gives them reason to see a ray of hope through all the dark clouds. Archaeologists believe Sudans corner of the continent has been a settled culture since 8,000 B.C. As
steeped in world history as they are, and also founding fathers of Africas organised football, the Sudanese people deserve more than they are getting. Their players know this, giving their best every time they take to the eld. Yet, before a single ball is kicked, they sing the words of their anthem with so much passion: We are the army of God and of our country / We shall never fail when called to sacrice / We challenge death during hard times / We buy glory, at the dearest price. When you consider that the last time Sudan won the AFCoN, in 1970, it was also the Black Stars who were beaten, it may seem sentimental to believe that a draw with a World Cup quarter-nalist was just the
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tonic Sudan needed to relive their glory days. But heres some free advice: dont count on it.
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Merde!Thisplaceisashithole! Gastonlookedsidewaysathispartnerslash-doppleganger and snorted. EverywherewasashitholetoPierre. Yet,inthisinstance,Gastonhadto grudgingly admit that his age-old friendwascorrect.Khartoumwas indeedashithole.Thewholecountry was. NorthSudanwasanariddesert,brokenonlybytheNileslitheringdown toLakeNasser,beforecoursingpast the desecrated tombs of Cheops, Ramses,Tutankhamunandtherest ofthenarcissisticEgyptians,thenon to Cairo, Alexandria and into the Mediterranean. Gaston smiled at a memory of Cleopatra.ThePharaohshadbuilta
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gloriouscivilisation,true,but,like any other, it had been rife with treacheryanddeceit.HeandPierre thrived on corruption and, before theyhadmadeGaultheirbaseofoperations,theyhadenjoyedprofitable timesinEgypt. TheRomanshadspoiledthat,however.PleasingvisionsoftheEgyptian seductresstransformedintothegrim visagesofJuliusandMarkAntony. Still, Pierre had found a way to exploittherivalrybetweenthetwo Romans,andGastonhadsmiledand tasted the sweet crimson as he watchedfromtheshadowswhenthe kniveswentintoCaesar.Thedownwardspiralofgraftanddecadence whichflowedfromthatdeedhadfed thepairofthemforcenturies.
Hesteeredhisthoughtsbacktothe present. Khartoum divided the scorchedwasteoftheNorthfromthe rain-sodden south. You had your choice in Sudan, between humid heat or arid, between monsoon or duststorm,buteveryinchofhabitablespacewasfilledwithfilthy,savage blacks, who would cut their brothersthroatforapenny. Gaston looked sideways at Pierre, considering that. No, he would nevermakethatchoice.Therewere limits, even to what he would do. Besides,theirswastheperfectrelationship. Pierre completed him, eachonesstrengthscancellingthe othersweaknesses.Unlikeothersof theirilk,whooperatedalone,having someone to trust made them stronger.
These untrustworthyAfrican fools could be exploited, however. The piracyintheRedSeayieldedalmost limitless bounty when witless thievesandcutthroatsweregivena little guidance. Stolen goods and contraband made their way from Aqiq,onthecoastneartheEritrean border,acrossthewaste,throughthe oasisatDerudebandfromthereto Khartoum,whereP&GInc.hadset upitsdistributionnetwork. Theendlesscivilwarmadeitvery easytoconductbusinessinthecity. Any temporary authority which mightnotbeamenabletodoingbusinesswaseasilyremovedwithjusta whisper in the proper ear and an overstuffedenvelopeplacedinthe hand.
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Lately, there had been problems, however.Assetswereeitherdisappearing without a trace or being exchanged for ridiculous items, such as key chains, ginsu knives, clap-on light switches, Rubiks Cubesand,inthelastshipment,pink footballs.Atfirst,Gastonhadsuspected that one of their associates hadbecometoowiseandgreedyfor his own good, but two successive purgeshadntresolvedtheissue. Thus,heandPierrehadreluctantly shuttered their cafe in Paris for a weekanddescendedintothissweltering nest of disease and filth. Given the nature of the thievery, Gastonwasnowalmostcertainasto theculpritsidentity,butcatchingthe oldtricksterwouldbeverydifficult.
Tonight,theyawaitedashipmentof automaticweaponswhichwasbeing truckedinfromthesea.Itwouldgo on to loyalist troops in embattled Libya.HeandPierrehadinspected thecargoatAqiq,inDerudeb,and trackeditsprogressalongitsentire dustyroute,electronically.Thecaravanhadnotpausedotherthanfor fuel,andoneofthemhadoverseen eachofthosepitstops. P&Gwouldhaveaccompaniedthe processionfortheentireroute,but theywereinvadersinanothersterritory, and the open desert made themvulnerable.Nancymayjustbe amischiefmaker,buthehadsome powerful friends who resented the Europeanpresenceandwouldstrike quickly if give the opportunity. It wasbetterifnooneknewwherethey
wereatanygivenmoment. Astheysatsweatinginfrontofthe opendoorsoftheabandonedwarehouse, dusk approached. Pierres nosewasburiedinthemonitorofhis laptop,trackingthecaravanbysatellite.Gastonlookedoverhisshoulder; the trucks were still a few kilometres off. Across the road, a group of children were kicking a pinkfootballaroundapatchofdusty ground, laughing and chittering to eachother.Oneyoungboy,probably nine or ten, was especially skilled, weaving his way through and around the rest, dribbling and jugglingtheballwithease. Finally,hepushedhislucktoofar, andoneoftheotherurchinsslidin hardandknockedtheballaway.The
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boybundledoverinaheapandthe ball skittered across the street and rolledtoastoplessthantwentyfeet from Pierre and Gaston. Pierres focusonhismonitordidntwaver. Gastonlookedatthepinkballand mutteredtohimself.Heroseoutof hisfoldingchair,strodeovertothe ballandpickeditup.Thechildren yelledathimtothrowitbackacross theroad.Hejuststoodthere,holdingit. Oneofthem,thetalentedboy,darted acrosstheemptystreetandlooked upathim,smiling.Hewasbarefoot, wearingdirtykhakishortsandatattered Barcelona shirt, one or two sizestoosmall.Therewerescrapes andscarsonhislegsandarmsbut his face was unmarked and lit by bright eyes and even white teeth.
HisheadwassobigthatGastonidly wondered if he ever took the shirt off. Pleasesir,hechirped,maywe haveourballback? Gastonlookeddownathimsternly.
Thisisyourball? Well,weallshareit,sir. Wheredidyougetit? Atallwhitemangaveittoustwo weeksago,sir. Thetimingcertainlyfitwiththelost shipmentbutnewsofawhiteman surprisedGaston.Therewerevery fewoperatinginthearea. Whatdidhelooklike? Theboysfeaturesscrewedupfora moment,ashetriedtofindawayto describethewhiteman.Finallyhe shruggedandgaveashortreply. Helookedprettymuchlikeyou,sir,
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excepthewasmuchtaller. Gaston sighed in exasperation. Theyalllookaliketomewasauniversalphrase.Heaskedaseriesof questions and the youngsters answers combined to describe a tall, athletic Englishman of middle-age withlighthair,abeardandcasual, butexpensive,dress. Nigel. The problem was that P&G had someonewatchingtheEnglishgod andtheirreportssuggestedthatthe BrithadbeennowherenearAfrica. Yet,thispupseemedsureofthefellow who had given him the ball. PerhapsNigelrequiredadditional attention.
Pleasesir.Thehigh-pitchedvoice intruded on Gastons thoughts. MayIhaveourballback. Itsmine,now,Gastonsneered, butIllsellittoyouforadollar. Theboyssmilewavered.Idont haveadollar,sir.Noneofusdo. Gastonsighed.Doyoureallywant theball? Theboyssmilereturned. Yes,sir.Please! Gastonpulledasmallknifefromhis beltandswiftlypuncturedtheball, droppingittothegroundwithaflat thump.Theboyssmiledeflatedas quicklyasthepinkball.
Thengetajobandbuyone,Gaston snarled.Now,getoutofhere. Acrosstheroad,therestofthechildrendroppedtheirheadsatthesight oftheirruinedballandbegantodisperse.Theyoungurchinlookedup sadly at Gaston, shaking his head. Thenheturnedandskippedacross theroad,callingtohisfriends.As theyfadedintothetwilight,hisgay voicehadthemlaughingagaininno time. Gaston gave the deadened ball a swiftkickanditsailedlazilyintothe middleoftheroad,landingwitha plop, bleeding more precious air. Therewasasuddenrumble,which quicklygrewinvolume.Arowof trucks,theirlightsoff,emergedfrom thegatheringdarknessandrolledto-
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wardsthegapingdoorsofthewarehouse. One by one, they rode directlyovertheremainsofthelifeless footballuntiltherewasnothingleft butaflatscrapofsyntheticpinkand blackleather,coatedindirt,oiland tiretread. Pierreclosedhislaptopwithasnap and,standing,followedthelasttruck into the edifice. Gaston followed andhittheswitchwhichrolledthe doorsshutwitharattleandclang. Armed guards hopped out of the backofeverytruckandtookuppositions.Theleaddriversteppedup and handed a manifest to Pierre whileanothercrankedupaforklift. Soonenough,severalcratessaton thewarehousefloorawaitinginspection.
Crowbars were applied, lids cast asideandcontentsexamined.Looks of alarm quickly spread. P&G steppedforwardandlookedintoseparatecontainers.Bothgodsreached inandpulledouthandfulsofthin, rectangular items in brightly colouredpackaging.Cursing,they movedfromboxtoboxandfound that,ratherthanKalishnikovs,each one contained instructional DVDs onSwedishmassage. As angry yells of accusation and protestingshoutsturnedtoscreams andgunfire,theyoungboystoodin theshadowsnearby,smiling.When the doors rolled open, Pierre and Gastonemergedinanemptytruck andtoreoffdowntheroad. The boy sniggered, then smoothly
transformed into a thin wiry old man,deckedoutinashinysuitwith a bright red tie and matching kerchiefinthebreastpocket.Flames sprungupinthewarehouse,flickering at the windows, and smoke began to billow out the still open doors. Nancyreachedbehindhimandproducedapinkfootballcoveredbya chequeredfeltfedorawithafeather inthehatband.Placingthehatjauntilyonhishead,hetossedtheballup andjuggleditfromfoottofoot,casually, before tapping it into the emptylotwherethechildrenwould surelyfinditinthemorning.Laughingsoftlytohimself,hefadedfrom sight.
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DANNY CHADBURN >
What delights can we expect? Where to begin? In Team Scandinavia, playmakers come thin. High-octane incision is their method of win.
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HOW I LEARNED TO STOP WORRYING AND LOVE NORDIC FOOTBALL
CHARLIE ANDERSON >
When Jude Ellery invited me to write an article for Man And Ball, I stupidly said yes. Stupidly, because when I searched for a topic to cover, I settled on 'what is it that I like about Nordic football? It was only when I sat down in front of my laptop, the sheer and merciless void of an empty Word document staring me in the phizog, that I realised I dont know how to answer that question. An interesting development but, given that Id agreed to write on the subject, something of a botherance. It felt like that GCSE History exam all over again and, just as I then blindly
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LOVE NORDIC FOOTBALL
CHARLIE ANDERSON >
had a go at a bewildering question regarding the Battle of Jutland, Im going to close my eyes tightly and tackle this one. Whats to like about Nordic football? I dont know where to begin other than at the beginning. In the latter parts of the nineteenth century the English, all steely-eyed righteousness and quiveringly earnest moustachery, took their Great Game to the world. Scandinavia (Jutland included) was one of the rst places they rocked up and weighed anchor. Northern Europe took to football like Jamie Redknapp to a pair of gure-hugging trousers, and the game caught on quickly. Kjbenhavns
Boldklub, for example, was the rst football club founded in mainland Europe. KB survives to this day in the Danish lower leagues, while their professional team merged with Boldklubben 1903 to form FC Copenhagen in 1992 (a busy year, what with BSkyB inventing English football). It was an Englishman, Charles Williams, who rst coached the Danish national team, and took them to a 1908 Olympic silver medal (they lost the nal to Great Britain). So, from that moment when the English rst hitched up their pantaloons and waded, football in hand, into the North Sea, their ties with Scandinavia have been pretty sturdy. Given the geographical and histori-
cal proximity, its interesting that the footballing Anglophilia, which dates back to the games rst jaunt across the North Sea, has never been reciprocated. Football was exported to the Netherlands at pretty much the same time, so its interesting that the Dutch game holds such an exalted place in Englands collective footballing consciousness whereas there is little awareness of Nordic football in Albion, beyond the national teams. I dont mean to lament the dichotymy, nor suggest that its inexplicable. It is a curiosity, though. Perhaps a sense that the region goes a little unappreciated makes it more attractive to a pseudo-intellectual football blogger such as me.
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No, that isnt it. Its a teasing cross Since 2004, the Norwegian midbut its not a thumping header into elder has been, more or less, a regthe far corner. A quick glance at ular rst-team player in the worlds David Goldblatts globiggest, shiniest footriously comprehensive That fantasista ball league. Hes asagstone The Ball Is drought has its sisted 70 Premier Round takes us far disadvantages, but League goals, which is closer to the nub of more than such global the matter. Discussing it also facilitates a icons as Cristiano more team-based the development of Ronaldo or Gary football in northern sensibility Speed ever managed. Europe, Goldblatt But Gamst will never writes of cultures unencumbered be a superstar, therell never be a by great power pretensions. team built around him. Hes an unglamorous player who helps to That unencumbered attitude is, I knit the team together, just like Sami think, right at the heart of whats Hyypi, Martin Laursen or Sebastian great about Nordic football. Theres Larsson. a certain understated charm that adds something to the game. The Nordic countries tend to produce a lot more of this type of player Consider Morten Gamst Pedersen. than they do bewitching playmakers
or nimble-toed centre-forwards. Obviously that fantasista drought has its disadvantages, but it also facilitates a more team-based sensibility, which in turn produces players with a valuable understanding of intangibles, such as shape and space - or what Jorge Valdano called knowing-how-to-play-football. In Brilliant Orange, David Winner writes at length about the Dutch aptitude for manipulating space, and I think that, to some extent, its fair to describe Nordic football in the same terms. That anti-individualist baseline makes the extraordinary talents that do emerge all the more nerve-cracklingly thrilling. Think of those players like Michael Laudrup or Jari Litmanen, and how much of their
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greatness came from the propensity to put their gifts at the disposal of the collective. Michel Platini even described Laudrup as not selsh enough. All this talk of playmakers, and theres a woolly mammoth in the room. The beast to which I refer is not Jan Mlby, but the issue of the long-ball game. Its a characterisation often applied to Nordic teams; one which is both fair and unfair. Its best observed through the prism of Egil Olsens Norway. Olsen, or Drillo as hes nicknamed, is one of the great long-ball theorists, and heavily inuenced by Graham Taylor (theres that Anglo-Nordic link again). Drillos Norway played, and continue to
play, a scientic, high-octane longball game with an intense and impatient sensibility. Not a second is wasted, and the gritty organisation of the defence is matched with a furious and surgically precise counterattack. Its long-ball, but its as far from hit-and-hope as imaginable. Its hard work for the spectator, but also strangely enervating. vre best uten ball -- to be the best at running without the ball -- is Olsens philosophy. Another example of entertaining long-ball would be Denmarks rst goal of the 2010 World Cup, when Simon Kjr lasered a diagonal pass to Dennis Rommedahl, who took one touch to beat the defender and another to slide the ball across the six-yard box. Nicklas Bendtner did
the honours at the far post. It was a long-ball theorists dream -- only two passes! -- but a goal of crisp, clinical beauty. So there you have it. Glamorous? Not really. Exciting? Sometimes. Sexy? Only when Zlatans around. The hard sell was never my strong suit, and I can see that you want to get back to Nigels adventures. Ill shut my briefcase, then, and go hawk my wares on another doorstep. I tip my hat to you, and thank you for your time. Do me a favour though, would you? Check with Nigel and get back to me. I still dont know what happened at the Battle of Jutland.
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DOMESTIC BLISS
NigelandLivbrokeofftheirkissas theyfelttheelevatorcomingtoasoft stop.Thus,whenthedoorsopened theylookedforalltheworldlikea proper,well-mannered,respectable couple, hair and clothing neat and orderly, both facing forward and making neither eye nor physical contact;ratherthanapairconsumed intheearlythroesofapassionaterelationship, unable to keep their handsoffoneanother.Theystepped outintothelobbyand,withbarelya nod,Livmadeforthediningroomto secureatable,whileNigelheaded forthefrontdesktohandinthekey; theydbeoffforaroundofgolfafter themeal. When he reached the counter, the clerkhandedhimaslightlybulging courierenvelopeaddressedtoNigel
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Etherington,CEOGlobalExports. Sincehisreturn,hehaddevelopeda tastefornovelsofintrigue,particularly the works of Le Carre and Fleming.Tuckingthepackageunder hisarm,hewalkedacrossthelobby tothediningroom,woundhisway calmlythroughthestaggeredrowsof tables to one by the window and, withthesuaveandgraceofasecret agent,benttogiveLivapeckonthe top of her head, before taking his seat. As he tore into the package, she lookedupfromherpaper,curious. Therewasoneiteminside:aDVD entitled Master The Arts Of SwedishMassage.Attachedtothe front was a yellow Post-it with a pinksmileyfacedrawnonit.
Nancy?sheasked. Nigel nodded. Everything went well,apparently. Livsmiled. Therewasabitofcommotioninthe room;anoutburstoflaughsandgiggleswhichannouncedthearrivalof Taylor and Todd. The American couplehadnouseforproprietyand wereunabashedintheiraffectionfor eachother,embracingandoffering eachotherapassionatekissbefore Toddmadeashowofpullingouta chairforTaylortositdown. Settling down, Taylor spied the video. NancyisstillgettingunderPierre
andGastonsskinIsee. Nigelnodded. ToddpickeduptheDVDandread the cover and back, one eyebrow raised. DoyoumindifIhangontothis? heasked. NigelsmiledasLivgiggledandTaylorblushed. Byallmeans. Thanks! Todd almost gushed. TailandIarereallygratefulforthe invitation. We both come from strongIrishstock,butneitherofus haveeverbeen.So,itsreallyexcitingtobeplayingeighteeninIreland,
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andrightonthecoastnoless!Its likePebbleBeachbutmorehistoric! Wecantsaythankyouenough.Really! BeforeNigelcouldcounttherealliesorsayyourewelcomeforthe umpteenth time on the weekend, Taylorinterjected. Thatdoesntmeanwerenotgoing to kick your ass on the links, though! Oh,wellseeaboutthat!Livwas quicktotakeupthechallenge. Nigelwasabitsurprisedbyherconfidence. When he had first suggested meeting up with the Americansforaroundofgolf,she had admitted that her only experi-
encewiththegamewashittingballs whenanextookhertothedriving rangeafewtimes. Hearchedaneyebrowinherdirection. Shesmiledbackathimsweetlyand, shrugging,asked,Howhardcanit be? TaylorandToddbothburstintofits oflaughter.
Asthefoursomewalkedofftheninth green, the laughter had been replacedbydark,suspiciousglances andthebreezeofftheIrishSeahad beenforgotten.Putashortormiddle distanceironinLivshandandshe wasdeadlyaccurate.Nigelsgame wassolid,and,unlikeTodd,whostill hadntlearnednottogripitandrip itdespitefindinghiswayintothree potbunkers,hewascontenttoput theballinthefairwayforLivwheneverheteedoff.Theyounggoddess hadhitthesticktwiceandspunanother approach to within five feet. Asaresult,theBritswereupfour holesastheyroundedtheturn. As the quartet picked up some refreshmentsbeforestartingonthe backnine,Nigeltriedtodefuseany tensions.
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Ithoughtyousaidyoudonlyhit ballsafewtimes? Livshruggedagain. Thatsright,butitsjustaboutcoordinationandbodycontrol.Igrew up in dance class -- its the same thing,whenyouthinkaboutit. Did you really? Todd piped up, withaneagersmile.Youknow,I wasacheerleaderincollege! Livstaredathim,unsurejustwhat thatmeantandTaylorrolledhereyes indisgust.Sheelbowedherhusband hardintheribs. Ow,Tail!hecriedout.Whatwas thatfor?
Forget about cheerleading, she growled, and forget about your driver,too.Ifyoutakeitoutofyour bagagain,Illwrapitaroundyour head. ToddlookedfromhiswifetoNigel andLiv,hisfaceamixofconfusion, embarrassmentandchagrin.Feeling somewhatempathetictohisfellow godscompleteignoranceofthefemalecondition,Nigelclappedhim ontheshoulderencouragingly. Letsgetbacktoit,shallwe?
Taylor were buzzing excitedly as theyhigh-fivedandpulledtheircarts towards the next tee. With their backsturned,NigelgaveLivasuspiciouslookwhichwasansweredby asurreptitiousshrugandveryguilty expressionofinnocence. Yet, there would be no winners or losers in this contest. As they approachedthefifteenthteebox,two figureswalkedoutfromanadjacent copseoftrees.Itwasagrimfaced Padraig,withMalintow. Wevegotaproblem,hesaid.
Fourholeslater,withToddsdriver permanentlyhooded,theYankshad halved their deficit. Then, on the fourteenth, Liv missed a putt that wasthenextbestthingtoagimme, anditwasamatchagain.Toddand
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DANNY CHADBURN >
Founding fathers build a new sport to consume, Imports given hometowns and monikers to assume. Base, basket and football, does soccer have room?
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THE SPECIAL RELATIONSHIP
NIALL FARRELL >
For centuries, Ireland has had a special relationship with America. Irish emigrants built American railways, policed their streets and produced generals, admirals and presidents for their adopted countrymen. The exodus was so vast that, today, most Irish people have an American relative. Applying for the J1 visa to work for a summer in the States has become almost a rite of passage for Irish students. These were the hands that built America may be a clich -- and the name of a U2 song -- but its true. Ireland also had a role in the pioneering days of both American foot-
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ball and soccer, with the story of the latter remaining largely untold. While Notre Dames Fighting Irish, along with the Syracuse Orangemen and numerous others, remain an integral part of American college football, and NCAA athletics in general, their association football counterparts have remained hidden in the mists of history. However, the Irish clubs were held in such high regard by the founding fathers of US professional football that two clubs, one from each side of the Irish border, were among those invited to participate in the United Soccer Association -- the rst attempt at a mass-marketed professional league in the US. In 1966, an idea was born in the
heads of three of the greatest entrepreneurs of American sport. Jack Kent Cooke, Steve Stavro and Lamar Hunt wanted to bring professional association football to America, replete with all the passion and grandeur of the great European and South American leagues. They formed a consortium, calling it the North American Soccer League (NASL) -- with the intention of establishing the rst fully professional league in North America. All three men had football -- as well as a plethora of other sports -coursing through their veins. Cooke owned the professional basketball and ice hockey franchises in the massive Los Angeles market (the Lakers and the Kings) as well as the Washington Redskins of the NFL. He
also owned the famous Forum -where the Lakers played -- which, until the construction of the Staples Center, ranked alongside Madison Square Gardens as one of the most iconic indoor sports venues in the world. Cooke had also owned several radio and television stations, newspapers and magazines. He pioneered the now familiar model of sports entertainment -- running promotions for fans during matches and seating celebrities in the front row. The second of the founding NASL members, Stavro, had a dierent background. He was the only one of the trio to grow up playing the game. As a schoolboy in Toronto, Stavro played football and, in 1961,
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he was a founding member of Toronto City. Initially competing in the Eastern Canada Professional Soccer League, City would go on the play in the USA. In their rst season, Stavro coaxed players like Stanley Matthews, Danny Blanchower and Johnny Haynes into playing for City. Perhaps the most interesting of the three men, at least in this context, is Hunt, who will be instantly recognisable to fans of modern American soccer -- the US Open Cup carries his name. Hunt owned four American football franchises at dierent stages, but his name remains synonymous with American soccer. From 1966 to his death in 2006, he missed just three World Cups. He founded current MLS clubs Sporting Kansas City and Columbus Crew, and
owned FC Dallas for the three years preceding his death. Hunt was an American football player in college, but his interest in soccer was kindled on the terrace of one of Dublins famous football grounds. In 1962, Hunt went to see Shamrock Rovers play in Glenmalure Park and from then on he retained a passion for the sport. Whether or not he came, as so many Irish-Americans do, to discover their roots is unknown, but what is certain is that he discovered association football. It was no coincidence then, that when Hunt and his fellow NASL founders drew up their list of clubs to compete in the USA, as they decided to call the league, Rovers were included. The plan was simple: rather than growing clubs in Ameri-
can cities, the United Soccer Association would simply have leading European clubs transplanted into the country, as part of a summer league. So, 1960 FA Cup winners Wolverhampton Wanderers played as the Los Angeles Wolves, Cagliari became the Chicago Mustangs and Brazillian side Bangu competed as the Houston Stars. Although the teams were there and the league structure was relatively straightforward -- one Western conference, one Eastern conference -the initial season of the USA in 1967 was rushed through. It was only called the USA because a rival consortium, the National Professional Soccer League (NPSL) arose. The name USA was adopted, as NASL was too similar to NPSL. Just to add
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to the confusion, when the two leagues later merged the name the chose was NASL.
Not only that, when the NPSL announced that they had secured a major television deal with CBS and were ready to start in 1967, Cooke, Stavro and Hunt brought the start of Fouls were the USA forward by as they allowed a year. The approaches taken towards developing the USA and NPSL were microcosms of the approaches which would dene football in America for the following 40 years. The NPSL had a similar structure: two conferences containing ve teams each, and a Champi-
onship Game between the two conference leaders to decide the overall winners. But the participating clubs were ones native to their franchise area, in contrast to the invited clubs of the USA. The NPSLs stars, aside from a handful (notably Dennis Viollet), were American and Canadian youth players or welcomed, veteran pros. In the face of the diametrically opposed strategies, a debate arose concerning the best way to develop football in America, leading to the combination of the two strategies (and leagues) when NASL was launched. Although, in current climes, it might
the CBS television network to run advertisments during broadcasts
seem that developing clubs regionally rather than transplanting them would always be preferable, the NPSL was not without its problems. Some issues were more visible than others. In the leagues opener, fouls (and extended recoveries afterwards) were welcomed, as they allowed the CBS television network to run advertisements during broadcasts. While such would have upset British viewers, the May issue of Sports Illustrated ran a story on that opening match, remarking that the USA owners should have been pleased with what they saw televised from Baltimore's Memorial Stadium. SI went on to note that the 8,434 spectators who sprinkled the stands
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-- and were studiously avoided by the TV cameras -- were not nearly enough to make the Baltimore Bays a scal success, but the game itself had sucient charm to make the television audience want more. The competing clubs, the Baltimore Bays and Atlanta Chiefs, were remarkably cohesive, according to the report, for teams assembled only recently from the four corners of the earth. But the general consensus was that the while the NPSL had the bigmoney TV deal, the USA still provided a better standard. The class of play in the nontelevised league (the USA) is likely to be better than that in the National
Professional Soccer League, Tex Maule said in SI, since the United Soccer Association, with the blessing of the FIFA, imports entire teams to represent its cities, rather than a melange of over or under-age players. Maule concluded: Not too long from now the two leagues are expected to merge. When they do, and when the brand of soccer offered the American public on the field and on television begins to approach the caliber of the soccer played in Europe and South America, then the game in the U.S. may become a real threat to baseball, with which it presently competes. For Shamrock Rovers, the chance to play in the USA against such illustri-
ous opposition was a welcome one. This was a side in its pomp; one of the most successful Irish teams of all time. The Hoops had been a major force in Irish football for the best part of two decades -- the Boston Rovers sojourn was sandwiched in between the famous six-in-a-row FAI Cup wins. They had won the League of Ireland three times in the 1950s and again in 1964. Crowds of up to 30,000 would frequently pack in to Glenmalure Park in the heydays of players like Paddy Coad and, later, Liam Tuohy, in what became known as the golden age of Irish football. Rovers trip to the US in 1967, intended to be the catalyst for football in America, coincided with the beginning of the steady decline of attendances in Ireland.
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Right throughout the 1970s and 80s attendances slid further down across all clubs in the league. They reached a low point in the mid-tolate 90s and have only started to climb again in recent years. Rovers themselves were almost at the summit of their own slippery slope. In 1970 the club unexpectedly lost to Shelbourne in the FAI Cup (their rst loss in the competition in seven years) and matters degenerated from there. The club failed to win any further trophies until an FAI Cup win in 1978, sparking another period of dominance. The 80s saw Rovers win four league titles and three FAI Cups. Glenmalure Park was sold in 1987, heralding another downward turn and leaving the club without a
permanent home ground for 23 years. Another league title followed in 1994, but the trophy cabinet was rarely opened for new wares after that. In fact Rovers went bust and were taken over by fans in 2005. They subsequently won promotion back to the Premier Division and, last season, reclaimed dominion over the Premier Division in their new ground, Tallaght Stadium. Last month saw the return of Shamrock Rovers to the hearts and minds of the wider football-loving public. The club will be the rst ever from Ireland to compete in the group stage of a European competition when they face Rubin Kazan, Tottenham Hotspur and PAOK Salonika in
the Europa League this season. However, if the old USA were to be run as a competition today, an invitation to an Irish club to participate would be unthinkable. Although there have been great strides forward in domestic competition lately, the League of Ireland still lags well behind any of the major European leagues. The invitation from Lamar Hunt in 1967 was a testament to how highly regarded the club was, at the time. Playing against sides from the best leagues in the world, Rovers remained competitive, despite nishing bottom of their own Conference division. In its inaugural edition, the USA was relatively successful. Boston Rovers were the worst attended club in the
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league, but attendances at some clubs occasionally climbed above 15,000. The competition on the pitch was also generally well received in the media. Los Angeles Wolves and Washington Whips (Aberdeen) played the championship game at Memorial Stadium. Over 17,000 attended, albeit in a stadium with a capacity of almost 50,000. After that single 1967 season, the USA and NPSL merged. According to the American Soccer History Archives, which were invaluable in the research of this article, the owners of the USA and NPSL clubs scanned their nancial statements, some of which were $500,000 in the red, and tried to analyze what had gone wrong with their investments.
NASL was meant to have learned by the many mistakes and miscalculations made by administrators in both leagues. The new league made sure not to tie clubs down to a city on ethnic lines -- like Boston Rovers -- opting instead to appeal to a broader audience in the American sports-loving public. But the systematic problem in American soccer was mainly ignored. According to the aforementioned American Soccer History Archives, Unfortunately, the owners were not concerned with what the American soccer community thought the problems were. They wanted only a simple explanation for their failure, and they found one... In their minds it was all too clear that the fault lay in the unnecessary competition of
the two leagues, which had diluted the support of the many soccer fans: give the country one pro league and attendance would zoom. NASL relied on imported players, just as the USA did. Where Gordon Banks and Roberto Boninsegna went in the USA, Pele and Franz Beckenbauer would follow in NASL. Ultimately though, NASL failed for many of the same reasons that doomed the USA and NPSL. America was without a major professional soccer league between 1984 and 1996 -- when Major League Soccer launched after two years of planning, in the wake of the 1994 World Cup. For the players and backroom sta
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of Shamrock Rovers who travelled to America in 1967, their part in the ambitious USA project must have seemed a world away during the decades when both Irish and American soccer drifted away from their halcyon days. Yet, those days in the USA are fondly remembered by Rovers players. Paddy Mulligan, right back for Boston Rovers and UEFACup winner with Chelsea, still refers to that summer of 1967 as the best time of our lives. The role played by an Irish club in the rise of professional soccer in America may have been a relatively small one, but the lessons learned through the Boston Rovers experiment and the USA experience as a whole shaped American soccer for years afterwards.
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Despite defeat, silver medals are proudly displayed. A renegade coach defied Polands blazer brigade. Against all odds, a legend was made.
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LETS HAVE THOSE WANKERS!
MICHAL ZACHODNY >
There is a huge plaque inside Barcelonas museum at Camp Nou, commemorating the victory of the Spanish national team at the 1992 Olympics. Vicente Mieras team triumphed in some style, conceding only two goals in the whole tournament -- both in the nal, where 95,000 watched in joy as Kiko netted the winner for the home side in added time. His heroics capped o one of the most entertaining football matches ever played at the Olympics. This was a great squad, including Pep Guardiola, Santiago Caizares, Albert Ferrer, Luis Enrique and Abelardo. But, also on that plaque, there are the names (albeit
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with mistakes) of the beaten team, the only side to give the Spaniards a ght in the tournament: Poland. This summer, the Poles celebrated the 19th anniversary of their last success on the international stage. Nobody really cared that it was in the Olympics, an Under-23 competition, rather than a bigger, more recognised tournament such as the World Cup or European Championships. And nobody really cared that they lost. In Poland, the 92 team wasnt given much hope before the tournament kicked o in Barcelona. Theyd faced bad press following an uninspired nish to the 1990-92 UEFA European Under-21 Championship -- thats not a typo, it was played over two years
-- which had served as qualiers for the Olympics. Nevertheless, qualify they did, and, as youve read, they ended up as silver medalists. But inspiration to even create the Under-23 team had only come to Janusz Wjcik four years earlier, when he was coaching the Under-18s during one of their many visits to Germany. As well as the typically generous amount of talent, the Germans were fantastically organised and had support from the DFB. Wjciks target was not only to create a team capable of winning everything at international youth level, but then also to pass the product on to the senior national squad. Coaching such a team was always
Wjciks dream, but he didnt have many friends at the Polish Football Association, the PZPN, and couldnt convince them to make it a reality. To get to the level of the young Germans hed have to think of another strategy, something new in a society that only just was learning what democracy was about. It was 1989, after all. So, he came up with a foundation which would attract sponsors for the Under-23 team. Funds gathered went to player scholarships (young players werent the best earners at the time), organisation of training camps (often in Germany) and bonuses for the whole team. In [the] deep economical crisis of the early nineties, Wjcik created a
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fantastic environment for us to train and earn. [The Under-23s] were probably better than the senior national team, said Andrzej Juskowiak, the new projects top striker. But this team, dened by the creativity of the project, the rising ambitions of the coach and the insolence of the youth he had at his disposal, was slowly becoming the PZPNs biggest problem. At the federations helm was Kazimierz Grski, the peoples favorite, a coaching legend who had achieved so much in Poland. When Grski spoke, everyone listened. He wasnt a man who you wanted to tangle with. The group stage of the Euros had gone smoothly. Though rivalry with
Turkey and England spiced things up a little, the Poles topped the group and didnt drop a single point, conceding only two goals in six matches. Eective, strong, condent, they stormed into the knockout stages only to be embarrassed 6-1 on aggregate by Denmark in the quarternal. Normally, this would have spelt the end of Polands Olympic dream before it had even begun, but Scotland came to their rescue. Because the Scottish didnt compete in Olympic football, with the four Home Nations still arguing to this day over the concept of a unied British team, when they beat Germany 5-4, their place went to Poland. Worryingly for Wjcik, though, gures
at the PZPNs headquarters were already lobbying for a change of coach. What they really needed was a scandal, something that would completely undermine the coach and allow the PZPN to reclaim control of the team. Before setting o for Barcelona, the whole squad underwent standard doping tests. Only the tests werent standard. Instead of a sterile lab, the samples were collected in a Warsaw hotel on 4 July. Eleven days later the newspaper Rzeczpospolita reported that three players, Dariusz Kosela, Piotr wierczewski and goalkeeper Aleksander Klak, had failed the tests. Was it a coincidence that this news was released on the very day that the squad was announced? With no time to replace the three, they
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refused to have their B samples tested and set o for the tournament regardless.
reached Barcelona. The Olympic laboratory showed no sign of either anabolic steroids or masking agents in the players bloodstream.
our style, despite our winning. Polish hell! wrote Wjcik in his autobiography. Wojciech Kowalczyk, another ne striker in the squad, recalls that inside the team they used to call workers from the PZPN teddy bears. Not a term of endearment, this was a reference to lingering loyalties to the former Soviet Union. Wjciks selection and tactics were indisputably good. Despite the teams youth and inexperience, they had enough talent to see them run out 2-0 winners in the their tournament opener against Kuwait. It wasnt a fully convincing win, but two goals from Juskowiak, the second a trademark header, were enough to earn Poland three points and Jusko a
Gazeta Wyborczas report on 20 July read: As Laboratory Director Dr The whole squad were outraged. Marek Daniewski told us, they didnt They accused the Polish laboratory want to have it checked, nor to of improperly storing the samples, question anything... the laboratory and even PZPN head Grski was puzdid another routine test on the samples, zled by the whole incident. So, the to check whether the team was ocially high steroid levels Wjciks selection clean, but their image were due to illness... and tactics were tarnished. It occured This one showed to Wjcik that, perthere was no added indesputably good haps, such had been testosterone, but the intention of those Dr.Daniewski had doubts whether who had engineered the initial possome clearing-up meds werent itive readings back in Poland. used. After qualifying for the Olympics The suspected players were invited they tried to sack me. During the for one more test, when they tournament people moaned about
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move to Sporting Lisbon. Wjcik was not only a promising tactician but also a great motivator, although his team talks and personal chats werent recommended for those with sensitive ears. Kowalczyk recalls one such rant in his autobiography: We came here for a medal. No, what am I talking about? We are here for the gold! Keep that in your heads, because Im not repeating it again: gold medal only! We will win, we are denitely the best team here. I will be surprised if anyone will step up to our level. Who won every game in the group stage [of the Euros]? Us, or these losers we are playing against? Denitely not them! We will have those mugs!
We will have those wankers! The last sentence was something of a catchphrase for Wjcik. The Kuwait game was only a warmup though; the real test came in the second match against real quality: Italy. Nobody thought the Poles stood a chance. Managed by the magic duo of Cesare Maldini and Marco Tardelli, Italy had Antonioli, Favalli, Albertini and Dino Baggio among other ne talents, all selected from top Serie A clubs. From the start! Tackle, tackle, tackle! Show them whos stronger! Cut them to the grass! Lets have those wankers! Wjciks battle cry worked. Just four minutes in, Marek
Komiski ran all the way down the left wing and played the ball in to the two Polish strikers, Kowalczyk and Juskowiak. The pair co-operated perfectly all tournament but no better than in this instance, where the latter worked space to send a fantastic volley past Italian keeper Francesco Antionioli. Unstoppable. Then, shortly after the break, Ryszard Staniek took advantage of a great through pass and nished easily; he was simply too fast for his marker, Demetrio Albertini. That was enough for the Italians. They could not believe what was happening and their frustration showed itself in the form of two red cards in eight minutes. Grzegorz Mielcarski nished them o with a third two minutes from time, but the consensus was that the Italians -- European
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Under-21 Champions -- had been mugged. In the last group match, Poland drew 2-2 with the USA to nish rst, a point ahead of Italy, who had regrouped to scrape a 1-0 victory over Kuwait. This meant the Italians faced Spain in the quarter-nals, while Poland would play Qatar. Poland ran out comfortable 2-0 winners in their match, with goals from Kowalczyk and Marcin Jaocha. This game was important as it saw Kowalczyk score for the rst time in the tournament. His career at Legia was a great success: he had been signed by Warsaws best team as a 19-year-old in November 1990, and in March the next year has put two goals past Gianluca Pagliuca of Sam-
pdoria in the Cup Winners Cup quarter-nal. Weeks later hed scored at Old Traord. But in the summer of 1992 it was a goal past Ahmed Saleh that broke his duck, and he only improved from there. For the semi-nal at Camp Nou, Poland faced Australia, one of the tournaments revelations. Indeed, the Socceroos had great condence after overcoming Sweden. At every stop on their route from the Olympic Village to the stadium, Eddie Thomsons men showed the Poles, traveling on the other bus, the thumbs down. It was a clear signal of their intentions. But Wjciks team, sticking to their coachs team talk, had those mugs that night. It was one way trac
from the start, but it took 27 minutes for Kowalczyk to get the ball rolling. Although a silly mistake allowed Carl Veart to level the score, a Juskowiak header restored his teams lead before half time. In the second half, the Australians did not stand a chance, as the Poles scored freely. Jusko and Kowalcyk bagged ve goals between them, with the other coming courtesy of Australian defender Shaun Murphy. The last goal, Kowalczyks second, was special: a genius backheeled pass from the telepathic Juskowiak gave Staniek and Kowalczyk a two-onone, and the latter nished a beautiful move perfectly. Polands place in the nal was thus sealed in style. The home team awaited them, having seen o
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Ghana 2-0 in the other semi-nal hours earlier, and Italy 1-0 in the previous round. Camp Nou was packed; over double the number of fans showed up than had watched Polands semi-nal. Among the onlookers were Fidel Castro, Juan Antonio Samaranch and King Juan Carlos. This is our day, lads. The whole of Spain will wish us death, but almost all of Poland are supporting us -almost, because there are those mugs from PZPN. They have to remember us... This is the game of our life! Lads, another bunch of wankers are waiting for us to have them! Wjcik was in his usual bullish mood before kick-o. Mutual respect was evident in the opening exchanges though, both
teams ghting hard, eager not to tiring, or at least losing concentramake the rst mistake. Tomasz tion. Kowalczyk had to leave the apiski had a great pitch for a minute and game at centre-back But the game Wjciks team were and Kak was once turned on its head down to ten men -again class in goal. but that was the momidway through ment they hit back. The Spaniards blinked the second half Captain Jerzy Brzczek first. Approaching inprovided the brilliant jury time in the rst half, Kowalczyk pass over the defence for Staniek, took advantage of a slip-up at the who chipped it over Toni. Relief in back and sent the ball under Sisthe Polish camp. tachs Toni to give his team a crucial lead heading into the break. Everybody thought this was how it would end. In added time, Spain But the game turned on its head had their last attack. In an easy situmidway through the second half, deation, Marek Komiski, whod had a great tournament, unnecessarily spite Kaks best eorts. Abelardo put the ball out for a corner. Albert headed home from close range in Ferrer took it, several players missed 64th minute, and a few minutes his low cross and it landed by Luis later Kiko gave the Spaniards the Enriques feet. One touch to control, lead as Polish players seemed to be
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a second to shoot. The attempt was blocked, but in the chaotic Polish box the rebound was pounced on by an alert Kiko, who red past Klak from 12 yards. Camp Nou erupted. Spain were Olympic champions. Despite the loss, the Polish players were lauded as heroes, and the talent of their young and ambitious team was a fantastic prospect ahead of qualication games for the World Cup. But, despite open claims from Wjcik and his players that We are only changing the name and continuing the ride, nobody from the PZPN took them seriously. The one enemy they had in Poland was too strong, too powerful to beat, even though results were on their side. Wjcik was denied the chance to
become the national team coach and continue his good work. He wanted to strengthen them with a few experienced seniors, believing that his skills, good organisation and motivation would be enough to make the Silver Generations performance only a stepping stone to future glories. Instead, the federation oered him the role of coach of the Under-18s. Rejecting this slap in the face offered him, he went to manage Legia Warsaw instead. His players openly criticized the PZPN and even the legendary Grski, but the damage was already done. Its impossible to tell how this turn of events changed things. On the positive side, the huge success of
previously unknown players from Poland was noticed abroad and, despite their failure to continue their international adventure at senior level, many of their club careers were boosted. Dariusz Adamczuk moved to Eintracht Frankfurt, Piotr wierczewski was on his way to Saint-tienne, Kowalczyk waited a couple of months before he signed for Real Betis, Udinese bought Komiski and Tomasz Wadoch spent 11 great years in Germany with VfL Bochum and Schalke 04. Regardless of their club careers, many of these players will look back at the lack of transition from a great international youth team to a successful senior one with much bitterness. Their leader, Wjcik, nally became coach of the national team
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in 1997, but left after failing to qualify for Euro 2000. In 2008 he was arrested for match xing while coaching struggling wit Nowy Dwr. It emerged that when he signed up for the job hed said to the clubs president, There is no sense in training, lets make a few calls. The prosecution claimed that during the eight games Wjcik was in charge of wit, the club spent hundreds of thousands of zloty on xed games to save them from relegation. Wjcik was stripped of his coaching license, but the court case is ongoing. This is not the rst time Wjcik has been involved in such allegations, either. In 1993, while managing Legia, the PZPN disqualied both his
team and second-placed LKS Ld, after they won 6-0 against Wisla Krakw and 7-1 against Olimpia Pozna respectively on the last day of the season. Although no concrete evidence of corruption was ever found, the title was awarded to third-placed Lech Pozna. Rafa Stec wrote about the failings of Polish football at this time, and the hell in which Wjcik found himself after the Olympics: He had everything -- he was loved by the fans, and all he needed was to follow this path, to learn more. But instead, he was ready to take even the most stinking of jobs just to earn more. But Wjcik not only fell foul of match xing -- there was also addiction, so well known in Polish football.
According to Stec, he used to have a special bottle with him on the bench that had not water in it, but something 40 percent stronger. When he was a coach at lsk Wroclaw, he once came into the wrong dressing room before the game and made a whole speech to the opposition players. The list of similar accidents goes on, including an arrest for driving under the inuence of alcohol. Unfortunately, several players from his Olympics squad followed this bad example. Wjciks star striker, Kowalczyk, ended his career early, aged only 32. His love for heavy partying is as legendary as his talent. He, along with several other members of that Olympic team, had developed a drinking problem.
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But it could have been so dierent. It is commonly suggested that the Poles biggest vice is envy. If the PZPN had only overcome theirs after the summer of 1992, maybe they would not only have a plaque remembering that Olympic nal, but many others recalling glorious triumphs of Wjciks future teams, ready to hang on the wall of the soon-to-be-opened national stadium in Warsaw.
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NEVER SAY NEVER
Whatdoyoumeanitmightnotgo off? Nigelcouldntbelievewhathewas hearing.WhenhefirstsawPaddy, hethoughtthattheEireannachmight have had a bug up his arse about Nigel bringing theAmericans into his patch to play a round without evengivinghimthechancetoturn down an invitation to be a fifth wheel. For all his talk about the spirit of independence, Paddy did tend to stand on ceremony. That wasntit,though.Instead,itseemed that the tournament the mortals referredtoastheEuroswasendangeredtothepointthatthegodsmight needtointervene. Well,theKyivsiteisontargetbut theresafinancialproblemwiththe
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Warsawstadium. A financial problem? Why cant the mortals resolve that? I mean, wasnttheproject--bollocks,what isthewordforitnow?--underwritten? Well,yes. Thenwhatstheproblem? The company which insured the loanshasbeentakenoverbyanother firmandtheyarecallingintheloan. Howcantheydothat? Theyhavefoundsomethinginthe wordingwhichcanbeinterpretedas a breach of contract by the Polish FA.
Canbe,oris? Itmakesnodifference,tobehonest. Nigelsnortedindisgust. Seriously, Paddy, how does anything get done in this brave new world? Very slowly and with plenty of graft. Nigel snorted again and looked downatLiv.Thegirlwasntbyhis side, however. She had walked awayfromtheteeboxandwashuddledwithMal.Livwaswhispering urgentlyinherbrothersearbutMal wasdoinghisbesttoburnholesin Nigelwithhiseyes.Shesqueezed
theboysarmandshookhardand, frowning, the godling returned his attentiontohissister.Ashedid,she sparedareassuringglanceforNigel. He nodded in appreciation, then turnedtoseewhattheotherswere doing.Toddwasstandingtherewith aconfusedexpressiononhisface, apparently distracted by the foursome playing through, who didnt evenseemtoseetheimmortalsconferring on the cart path, blithely crossingfromgreentoteebetween them all, without so much as a by yourleave.Taylorwasonhercell phone,allbusiness,givingtheperson ontheotherendthethirddegree. Everyone(exceptTodd)wastaking thisratherseriouslyforsomereason. Whatwashemissing?
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HeturnedbacktoPadraig. Dontyoulongforthedayswhen wedjustthumpeachotheronthe headuntilmattersweresortedout? The Irish god gave the jest a wan smile. Itdidsavealotoftime. Soitdid.Still,Ivelearntenough torealisethatwecantgothatroute anymore. This mess doesnt seem such a bother, though. We should just be able to muse into the right earsandgetthingsbackoncourse. He waved at the near-frantic goddesses.Whatsgotthemallworked up? Taylorwasontheteebox,yelling
intoherphone,wavingherotherarm about,oblivioustothegolfballthat wentwhizzingpastherhead.She wentdowntheothersideofthetee and then turned and retraced her stepsasthenextgolferunhurriedly slicedhisshotjustbehindher.Todd gigglednervously. HisnameisArkady,theEireannach replied Arkady? Paddynodded. Nigelcrossedhisarmsandcocked hishead,tryingtorecallthename. CantsaythatIvehadthepleasure. Hes new, like the birds. Paddy
noddedtowardsTaylorandLiv,who werenowconsultingeachother,as thethirdhackershankedalowdrive intotheleftrough,theballflicking atLivsskirtasitflewpast.HandlesRussiathesedays.Rightpiece owork,heis,too. ToddsqueakedandgoggledatNigel andPaddy,gesturingmadlytodraw their attention to the imperiled women. The final player in the group,awoman,teedofffromdirectlybetweentheconsultinggoddesses. Her shot sailed perfectly downthemiddle. AsNigelandPaddyignoredTodd, and the foursome hooded their woods and trundled off down the fairway, the girls returned to the group. Taylor absent-mindedly
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slippedherhandintoherhusbands anddraggedhimalong. What happened to Pyotr? Nigel askedPaddy. Ivandidhimin. Ivan? Well, what in Hades happenedtoIvan? Arkady Nigelmutteredacurseandandmassagedhistemplewithtwofingersof onehand. Paddylaughedgrimly.Thatsthe Caucasusforyou. Well, at least we speak the same language.Whatsheafter?
Werenotsure.Paddyshrugged. Allweknowforthemomentisthat hehasboughtupallthenotesonthe Polishfacilities. Nigel looked up. Why not the Ukraine?Itisajointventure,isnt it? Paddyshruggedagain.Dunnowhy,
mate.Iknowthattheyreinbetter shapethanthePoles,anditwouldbe hardertoforceadefault.Itcouldbe done,though.Mightjustbethathe doesntwanttoupsettheCossack. --Couldbetheyreinbedtogether, too. Nigels head turned at the unexpected interjection. It wasTaylor, just now clipping her cell phone shut. NigelturnedbacktoPaddyandwas offeredathirdshrug. Couldbe.TheCossackisasproud asheeverwasandhesstillaround, even if three successive Russians havehelddominionoverhislands. Hemayhavestruckadealwiththe
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youngblood,sothathedoesnthave tosharetheglorywithLech. Nigelconsideredthesituationfora moment. Another game, like in Buenos Aires? Paddy shook his head. Arkady doesntgobytheoldconventions. Challengesandduelsdontinterest him.Helikestosneakuponyou andputtheknifeinyourback.If weregoingtosortthisout,were goingtohavetoplayhisgameand gototheconferencetable. ItwasNigelsturntoshakehishead. Imnotverygoodatnegotiating. Paddyblewairoutthroughhisteeth
andawarylookcameoverhisface. Youdonthavetotellmethatbut, unfortunately,youhaveachairatthe tableand,well,betterthedevilsyou know. ThunderrolledacrossNigelsbrow. Unfortunately? What in bloody blazesisthatsupposedtomean? Paddyraisedhishands.Youknow aswellasme,mate.Youjustsaidit yourself,didyanot? Well,youdidnthavetoagreeso wholeheartedly...andwhatdidyou meanbydevils? Paddy shrugged again, suddenly lookinganywherebutatNigel. Comeon,then!Outwithit.Who
theshitearethesedevils? PaddylookeddesperatelyatTaylor, whosighedinexasperation. Whoelsedoyouthink?Theyre theonesattheheadofthetable,after all. Nigelseyesopenedwideindisbelief,hisjawhungforaninstantand thenhebegantosputterobjections. After the fourth or fifth start, he foundhisvoice. Youvegottobejoking,girl!You expectmetocometotheaidofthose twonumpties?Idratherdressupin afrockandpigtailstoservealeto OttoatOktoberfest! IfIdidntthinkyoudpissinthe
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steinfirst,Imighttakeyouuponthe offer. Nigelspunas,laughingathisown jest,OttomaterialisedtotheBrits left. Ramona stood next to him, dressedinfullbattlearmour,shield shining,sworddrawnandgleaming, andthehornsonherhelmhonedto sharppoints. Beginningwithalasciviouslookand a pucker of the lips for Nigel, she surveyedthepartystandingonthe teebox.Hereyesquicklysettledon Liv and then, disapprovingly, returnedtoNigel. Nigel, my sweet, she clucked, this wisp of a girl isnt nearly enoughwomanforyou.Youneeda full-fledgedshield-maidentoshare
yourbed. Simultaneous gasps of outrage emergedfromOttoandLiv,theformerstuckinhisplacetryingtodecide whether to direct his anger at Nigelorhisconsort,andthelatter, brandishingaputter,onlykeptfrom advancing on the well-armed valkyriebyTaylorsstronggrip. We havent time for games, the Americansaid.TherestarewaitingforusinZurich. Nigel,caughtbetweenhammerand anvil,turnedtoTaylor. You can string me up next to PrometheusforfiveandahalfeternitiesandIllstillnotchangemymind. Pierre and Gaston can rot for all I
care,hedeclared.Iwillnot,foranythinginthisworld,renderaidtothat pairoffork-tonguedFroggysnakes! Oh,really?Nigelseyesfellon Liv,armscrossedandadangerous look on her face. You will if you wantthiswispofagirlinyourbed again. RamonalaughedoutloudandOtto, trading his jealousy for sympathy, steppedoverandputanarmaround thetrappedgodsshoulders. Come,Nigel,hesaid.YouandI have,atvarioustimesbeenfriends and rivals, but we both know that therearesomeforcesinnature--he gazeflittedfromRamonatoLiv-thatevenagodcannottame. Nigellookedaroundtheparty,des-
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perateforanally,buthewasalone inhisplight.Therewas,herealised, nothingforit.Likeitornot,andit wasmostdefinitelynot,hewasgong tohavetofindawaytopullPierre andGastonsbaconoutofthefire, andhewouldntevengettothump anyoneintheprocess.Sighingathis predicament,helookedbackatan alreadygrinningLiv. DontthinkIwontmakeyoupay forthis,girl!Resignedtohisfate, Nigelheldouthishandtoher.Lets getitoverwith,then.
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Abstract prose stays on the right side of bizarre, Seven Down, six letters, third letter R, Outstanding debts, right where you are.
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HEROES IN ABSTRACTION
San Iker
CHRIS MANN >
Theres something in his eyes which says he wont be beaten; the calm, circumspect antiquity of a Saint. These hands, these hands; these hands which have won a thousand battles, been cut and bruised and shot and rattled. Here stands the watchman; the keeper of our memory, the guardian of a legacy. With boyish smile he guards the gates of hell, absorbing cancerous charge in verdant cell; leaping, reaching, arching with the shimmering, burnished wings of a Saint. Youve done what many only dream to do, youve
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learned to y; lift those auric vessels to the sky. Son Of Sao Paulo A mirage, a blur, a whippet, a rake; an exocet in the ticker-tape. Keep running, keep running, keep running -- the scurried enthusiasm of youth. The man with the childs smile tracked back and overlapped, painted his dreams with magnetic energy; live on, live on, sweet memory. Cafu, they called him, man and boy -- ceaseless running with rhythmic joy. Dance and whirl, skip and leap; greet the ball with quiet mystique. Impish movements enchant, inspire; the burnished wings of perfect desire. I labour by singing light / Not for ambition or bread / Or the strut and trade of charms / On the
ivory stages / But for the common wages / Of their most secret heart. Wander untroubled, ethereal Cafu, the power and the glory walk with you. Hercules
moved, Herculean labours confronted, commoved. They say that Hercules, too, once visited them; and when going into battle they sang of him rst of all heroes. Beware, beware -- this is Vidic country. The Riddle Of Campbell
They all fall about his feet -- these mortals struck down by thunder as the innocence of youth is cast asunder. Beware, beware -- this is Vidic country. A towering header, a beatic tackle; the applause of the crowd ignites, it crackles. Febrile Beelzebub -- ghting res with impassioned love; stony giant, impassable rock -- granite Balkan combatant. From ashes to ashes, dust to dust; see the emphatic nature of eternal trust. Guarding the pass at Thermopylae he stands, un-
Hero or villain? Peter or Judas? This divisive nature absorbs us, cajoles and deplores us; the ephemeral otsam of a rivalry. The jetsam of a hatred. They cough and spit and scream and twist and shout. The misguided passions of the daemonic. A troubled man with a calm veneer? The riddle of Campbell; wherefore art thou, Campbell? Tears in the mist, smiles in moments which lost their existence -- the nal bastion of ennobled resistance.
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White-shirted, red-shirted, crossed divide; a chronometer with an iron will to survive. Bear and endure: This sorrow will one day prove to be for your good. Running with raised voice, sliding with learned perfection; whispered talk of silent dejection. The Colossus of Rhodes was seen, aghast, strolling down the Tottenham Court Road. For This Is Italy Hewn of Lombardian stone, timeless Maldini stands alone. Il Capitano, Calcios grand old man, a dulcet generation at the heart of Milan. The seasons come and the seasons go -graceful bulwark, sublime blockade; contemporary Michelangelo. All hope abandon, ye who enter here! For this is Italy. Thine eyes have
seen the glory, knees cut scarred and by war; immaculate hostility a warrior adores. The death or the glory, the joy or the pain -- the Rossoneri preordained. From birth to death he led and conquered; Baresi, Costacurta, Tassotti -- here was the wall, the impenetrable wall, the wall hewn of Lombardian stone. Attacks alive and vigorous, attacks dead and gone. All hope abandon, ye who enter here! For this is Italy. To Patrick As he ran I was aware of becoming involved in his running and being part of it, until he turned with heavy pirouette and drew the applause of the crowd. In adoration of the King of Kings. I was drawn in. Those bandy legs, that condent chest,
those piercing eyes. I was drawn in. Control, look up, release; track, tackle, survive. The great combatant, the general, the leader; Magister. Beating heart, ticking clock, lion of Highbury. An elderly man with trembling hands said he was the bravest he ever saw. A cold winters day; the eyes of Keane, the shins of Keane. Yellow and red, red and yellow. Grass and mud and sweat and tears and blood and scars. Olbas. Foot on ball, sock at ankle he stands. He stands and surveys his kingdom. Magister. The Metronome There is a metronome in Barcelona, a metronome built on high romance. Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock, Tiki, Taka; under the lights where the
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passes gather. Here he shuns the artisans, attuning the ball to highown plans -- the man they call Xavi. Expositor -- Bring us this day our daily bread. Toreador -- And deliver us from evil. The arena glitters, the arena shines -- a puppeteer with greatness on his mind; this master born of La Masia. The composed gaze of dreams fullled, the brilliance of the simple; the master craftsman wrapped in guiled serene. Art is a lie that makes us realise truth. Let them look upon perfection, let them see what skill can glean -- be enthralled by the leader of a great and timeless team. Not An Earthly Kingdom
tine Pampas to the refulgent shores of Spain. The Flea, The Flea, the boy they call The Flea; a blurring of movement suspending gravity. Ball to feet and now we see this untouchable skill -- one beaten, two, three, four, another? Praised as a Messiah, hailed as a King -- Leo plays with a halo, the unyielding golden ring. My Kingdom is not an earthly Kingdom. Bouncing over bodies, skipping with a smile; this supernatural man a precocious child. Contorted, warped, twisted grace; pure joy etched into a youthful face. Delighting always with aesthetic endeavour, a thing of beauty is a joy forever. Romn
Theres a miracle from Rosario, an intuitive hurricane; from the Argen-
Romantic hero, tragic victim; here
lies the burden of temporal aiction. Belonging to a time that is not his, our Argentine savant wanders -amiss -- and weaves a distracted magic. Inscrutable eyes assess the future and feet caress the ball with tired tenderness; this is the mind that sees invisible patterns. I could also speak as ye do: if your soul were in my souls stead. Bestriding timelessness as the spirits of the dead, our misunderstood sorcerer is lost only to the realm of conscious thought. An incisive pass, a precise free-kick; the abstracted destruction of the prosaic. A humble cadence illuminates the Chocolate Box, for this is the sauntering genius -- forget him not. We fall asleep and fear of a time when children will say, Our fathers ignored the majesty of Romn Riquelme.
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The Beginning Of Always Diminutive and spectral, now let us speak of the decency of everlasting legacy. The pale mideld ghost moves, unseen, walking through walls as trapped in a dream. Eortless peace and expressionless wonder, this architect of craft and lan to ponder. A vital part of a perfect machine, its golden pieces glisten and gleam for a man of placid perfection. Contentedness and warmth pervade, gentle footsteps on the promenade where all cry his name. The winds of change sweep in -- history in Johannesburg. The hopes of a nation pinned on tiny shoulders; is this it? An intake of breath. A touch, a goal, an instant colossus; Dani Jarque, siempre con nostros. Remember tonight, for it is the beginning of always.
O Fenomeno Blink and he was no longer there; a forlorn goalkeeper with a vacant stare. Blink and he was gone, a ash of green and yellow -- The Phenomenon. A lightening streak, a blaze of gold resurrecting glorious songs of old; Pel, Garrincha, Zico. We will remember them. Thunderous beauty, the instigation of celestial blitzkrieg; for that was Ronaldo. Watch those feet, the elegance of a well-timed leap. Of course, there were injuries -- broken limbs and twisted knees; but the instinct remained. Mastery through tumult, laughter through pain; Ordem e Progresso. With hunched shoulders and mesmeric feet he scored, he scored. Ronaldo, Ronaldo -- the world is yours.
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CLOSE
DANNY CHADBURN >
"I am writer, but his books are mere journalism. "I am journalist," alas his reports are unprintworthy. "I am blogger, handing control to messrs C and V. These letters help earn a plum job on the Daily Mail sports desk. "I write, therefore I am." It's what he is that causes most concern. Doing the writings a simple procedure; Doing the right things much more artful.
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CONTRIBUTORS
Nigel Etheringon Publisher MAN AND BALL > @Man_andBall > Jude Ellery Chief Editor FOOTBALLFARRAGO > @JudeEllery > Martin Palazzotto Associate Editor WORLD FOOTBALL COLUMNS > @wfcolumns >
Theyll say I'm a figment of their imaginations, a god dreamt up to entertain you. Their opinion would change if I started paying them, but that's the thing about being a god or doing one's work; you have to take everything on faith.
In charge of this bunch, believe it or not. Inspirations include The Blizzard, When Saturday Comes and World Soccer. Likes to eat with his fingers, cant find his keys and has no idea who Cyrille Makanaky was.
Once a stunning example of male physiology, Martin has let himself go with age, although his celebrity has kept the women flocking to his bed. Oh, wait. That's Arnold Schwarzenegger. Never mind.
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CONTRIBUTORS
Graeme Bandeira Cover art ALTPICK > @GraemeBandeira > Chris Mann Guest writer THE EQUALISER > @equaliserblog > David Hartrick Guest writer IN BED WITH MARADONA > @DavidHartrick >
Freelance illustrator and resident artist at the Yorkshire Post. General approach to illustration is to dip a mapping pen into a bottle of ink and let his imagination run riot. It seems to do the trick.
Reached the end of the educational conveyor belt and is now drifting through the ether, deciding what to do next. Man and Ball therefore acts as purgatory -- but we cant promise which way well spit him out.
Soon to be published author, IBWM Editor, occasionally blogs at I Know Who Cyrille Makanaky Was. and has numerous other articles strewn wantonly across the Internet like torn-up betting slips.
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CONTRIBUTORS
Gary Al-Smith Guest writer SUPER SPORT > @garyalsmith > Niall Farrell Guest writer NIALL FARRELL > @thusspakeblixa > Michal Zacodny Guest writer POLISH FOOTBALL SCOUT > @polishscout >
Freelance African football journalist who has written for for several outlets, including Super Sport, ESPN, ITV and Kicker. Evidently takes more care over his appearance than some of the Man and Ball writers.
Irish journalist who covers many sports and has somehow been allowed to become editor of the DCU college paper. Although the above portriat may well have you convinced, Niall is no relation to Colin.
After a short but eye-opening spell as a scout, Michal now writes on the oftforgotten but colourful world of Polish football. Edits Slask Wroclaws magazine and has written for ITV, STV, Soccer International and The Football Ramble.
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CONTRIBUTORS
Charlie Anderson Guest Writer THE CARVALHO PENINSULA > @CAndersonFtbl > Will Varner Illustrator WILL VARNER ART > @willvarnerart > Christopher Lee Illustrator CHRISTOPHER LEE > @_cdlee >
Can also be found scribbling about Nordic football for Stone by Stone or improving great works of literature for Jurassic Farce. Known to become over-excited on the subjects of Dimitar Berbatov and Major League Soccer.
Grew up in Azusa, CA, on a steady diet of comic books, cartoons, ghost stories, movies, graffitti and smog. Blends elements of adult angst and childhood fantasies, often looking through the eyes of societys outsiders.
A card-carrying member of the Geek Squad, his alter ego is a contemporary artist, living in London. Said altar ego can't draw, but then neither can Chris -- or so he reckons.
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CONTRIBUTORS
Danny Chadburn Poet Laureate POETRY SEASON > @totally_content > Man and Ball Issue Three Nigel Etherington, Publisher Contributing Editors Jude Ellery Martin Palazzotto Guest Writers David Hartrick Gary Al-Smith Charlie Anderson Niall Farrell Michal Zachodny Chris Mann Poet Laureate Danny Chadburn Illustrators Graeme Bandeira (Cover) Will Varner (Features) Chris Lee (Nigel)
This Issue published 28.09.2011. Copyright manandball.com and individual authors/illustrators. All rights reserved. If you would like to quote any of these articles for fair use, please get in touch and well probably be chuffed to see our work included in yours. Be warned, however: Nigel does not take kindly to plagiarism. Contact Man and Ball: manandball@mail.com Website > Facebook > Twitter >
There once was a poet named Danny, whom we caught with his poor neighbour's granny, so now for a time, for us he will rhyme, because admittedly his cadence is uncanny.
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MAN AND BALL

ISSUE THREE -- SEPTEMBER 2011 COVER -- GRAEME BANDEIRA >

DANNY CHADBURN >

< OPEN Find Your Way Back > 1 8

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selves in precarious circumstances.

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a small community grant from the Starbucks Foundation.

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loss by Mexico meant a win for an unlikely team

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encewiththegamewashittingballs whenanextookhertothedriving rangeafewtimes. Hearchedaneyebrowinherdirection. Shesmiledbackathimsweetlyand, shrugging,asked,Howhardcanit be? TaylorandToddbothburstintofits oflaughter.