THE TEN- MAN TANGO
By
Mickey Blue Eyes.

The day of the Sunderland away match almost all Kipperites were clustered in Kipper's place for a Hawaiian barbeque. Let me tell you, the boy and Lady Colette know how to host a do like this. I lasted maybe seven or eight hours from almost four in the afternoon but it carried on till three a.m. This was the do with everything, including garden gazebos and terrific food.

Lard shouldered Kipper off the barbeque at one point to show "how it should be done." Well, actually he'd already done that by turning up in a hand coloured shirt with the immortal words "Hawaiian Blue Kipper" immaculately stenciled thereon. There were vehement protestations of free-hand lettering but I was pissed by this time and in no mood for mere facts. I'm sure my eyeballs were revolving in disgracefully different directions.

There were grass skirts everywhere, and that's just the men. Wonderfully spirited eighty-six years old Eva turned up in a grass skirt on her head - sort of like Cousin It run over by a combined harvester. Her husband Cyril saw Dixie get his sixtieth. Just being next to them made you feel real good. You can't buy moments like that.

Full time at the match had all the males clustered around the TV set gnawing finger nails to the elbow waiting for the result. In the background the girls muttered darkly, "Bloody typical men…………" but they knew we weren't budging till we got the final score. None of us had the gumption to listen to that worst of all tortures, a radio commentary. The news that SuperKev had stitched it had us immediately submerged in yet more happy juice. Then we started taking the piss out of the new pinky, El Dodgy Diver. You know, times don't get much better. Good people, good food, lots of genuine laughter. I even knew the words to some of the songs on the half-muted hi-fi. Bliss.

Earlier in the week footy administrators announced appointment of somebody to look into allegations of corruption in the game. So footy eventually catches up with cricket in facing up to reality. The allegations have been flying around for years of course and should have been faced immediately and either nailed as lies or followed to their logical conclusion. Bungers Ziege and Graham are the only ones named so far but, so the allegations go, they are just the "unlucky" ones. They got caught.

It would be nice to see this turned into a public, televised inquiry carried out in a civil manner………………which is not to be confused with Joe McCarthy or the various Yank congressional/senate whitewashes. Our establishment is every bit as bad as theirs of course. (Who could forget the Scott Inquiry………… which presented clear evidence of a rotten-to-the-core Brit establishment up to its neck in supplying arms to Saddam Hussein? You might recall at the time John Major promptly stood up in the House and lied through his teeth: "The government has been cleared of all wrong doing," and then sat down again. All of which was absolute bollocks. The inquiry report shows quite the opposite. Our right wing media promptly ran away from the implications like the gutless liars they are. You can bet the very same people would swarm all over a story of in-depth footy corruption. Anything which helps to divert attention, especially from an unwanted undemocratic war against the Iragi people.)

The fact is, and we all know it, the games present structure is shot through with the rotten-ness of commercial vested interests. At any time it could collapse like a pile of match wood riddled with woodworm. It is the true footy fans who will be left to pick up the pieces. You only have to look at the Italian game and what was done to it by neo-fascist commercial gangsters like Berlusconi. Our game needs a good kick in its fat administrative arse and the sooner the better. We could make an excellent start by getting shut of Sky TV and its lackeys for good.

So, midweek we got a well deserved last-minute draw against Brum after a torrid match which saw our ten men launch a severe battering of their defence for the last third of the match. In the circumstances it was a creditable performance. The most notable thing was The Dook's performance in the last quarter hour. Pinch me please and REMIND me the boy's only sixteen. But you'd never have guessed it as he twisted them inside out. His late display was astonishing even allowing for the opposition's justified tag of Brummy Bashers. More to the point was how it came in the closing stages of the game, by which time - theoretically - he was due to be worn out. Nothing could be further from the truth. If he can keep this up it is only a matter of time before he completely destroys an opposition defence.

It was also notable because I finally completely lost patience with a pavement stain seated behind me who didn't stop barracking Kevin Campbell from the kick-off. This went on even after he hit the post and was plainly having a really good game again. The scapegoatism got so ugly I finally turned and bellowed right down his throat that he was A Fucking Whining Twat And Why Don't You just Fuck Off As Fast As Your Fucking Legs'd Take You? To which, back came the usual whimper, "I pay me money." Which is correct. But I was ready for him, "And so fucking do I. And if THAT'S all you're worried about…………………here, here's your money. Now fuck off altogether and don't come back." His face turned the colour of boiled shite.

Didn't hear from him for the rest of the game. Punk. I despise these scum bags. They aren't fans, they're inadequate whingeing emotional parasites who do indeed pay their money…………but only to try to make everyone else suffer within earshot. Which I am no longer prepared to do. I shit you not, at one point the adolescent birdbrain sitting next to him wanted to know why people were cheering for Rooney When He Hasn't Even Scored Yet. If I had a captive dog I'd gaze at it fondly after seeing and hearing from these afterbirth. Fortunately, 99·99% of the crowd were superb, patient and supportive as the team fought to get back on level terms. When Unsy's equaliser went in the ground absolutely exploded, yet one more sign of how things have changed since Moyesy's arrival.

And talking of Whining Twats, match eve brought the opportunity for them to go off on one of their usual miserable diatribes. Kings Dock came up against its latest obstacle and there they were gathered like croaking crows and mewling dingos. I've dealt with the issue in detail elsewhere and won't bother here. Suffice it to say we'll know before Christmas if the scheme goes ahead or not. If it doesn't, you can guarantee it has given them their Scapegoat Issue for the rest of the season and beyond. If they can't whine about individual players, tactics or management they'll have their bone to slaver at, just like your neighbourhood nuisance mangy mongrel dog, the one you have to kick every now and then.

Match day I joined The Bus for one of my rare away forays this season. The usual faces were there plus some new ones. Geoff was on my case right away insisting a number be done on Brenda and co. at Buck Palace. It appears he has a particular visceral hatred for Pamela Parker-Bowles who, he claims, looks like Joe Royle on a bad day. I explained the difficulty of this is that they haven't actually done anything bad this time, not like when Brenda signed the document that unseated democratically elected Gough Whitlam Down Under. Of course Geoff's never lets mere current news reports get in the way of his ideology. Quite right too.

The general feel was upbeat during the short trip. I felt good about our prospects. Funny, though, Mogsy had the opposite instinct. You can never tell in these things.

When we got to Moss Side it turned out the target pub was boarded up. They must have known we were coming. So onwards to The Parkside, plastic beer containers and generally cheerful bar staff. The place quickly filled up with Blue Bellies in the new shirt. I am reliably informed the Chinese characters on the front translate into "kopites Are gobshites." The Gerrard brothers descended on the pool table and demolished everyone else before we retired to the seats to dispense cracker-barrel wisdom. Then The Editor showed up after a confusing journey through the Moss Side Maze. It was all happening. Mogsy even tried to avoid paying for a round but he got collared by Texyla in search-and-destroy mode.

And so to the ground. Which doesn't look any better. It's an odd collection of buildings, each of them different. Inside, the place is dominated by double tier exec boxes behind one goal and a very badly designed multi-tier stand on what used to be the Kippax Road side. It has an odd, tired feel to it. This aligns with our wretched playing record there. City's looming move to the government-funded Commonwealth Stadium is as sensible as our proposed move to Kings Dock - except City's wasn't dogged by the miserable getts, opportunist politicians and unprincipled hacks who dog our project. Some people DO, some whine. 'Twas ever thus.

Teams, we had Simmo in goal, Hibbert and Nace at full back, Davey/Stubbsy centre backs, a midfield of The Gravedigger/Nic /Li Tie/Unsy and a front two of The Rad and SuperKev. They had Schmikes in goal , Huckerby and The Itinerant Whining Dome, and a lot of players I've never heard of.

It was one of those games which wasn't much of a match because we lost but would have been okay had we won. Essentially we lost the game in midfield because we didn't have a clue how to win the ball and use it. The centre of our defence was vulnerable too many times. Needless to say the ball hardly ever got fed through to our front two in any threatening fashion. In the end we lost to a deflected free kick, lousy central marking after twenty minutes, and a defensive giveaway with a few minutes left. The Dome got all three and Unsy got ours from a first half penalty, for which their defender got a red card after what looked like bad-mouthing to the referee.

This ten man business is intriguing. If teams can play with such determination with their backs against the wall, why can't they do it with a full complement? In four days we saw both sides of the coin.

But it was a stupid defeat made worse because City are managed by The World's Worst Spaniel-Eyed Simperer. The media like him of course because he goes out of his way to suck up to them, a prime consideration in giving the self-pitying nob'ead the England job. The result was predictable but The Simperer got out before the media could turn on him, just as he did everywhere else. Likely he'll do the same with the Mancs.

There's no point blaming anybody for the loss, it was just one of those days, the kind we've had too many of during the last five years. Not that it stopped yet another arse-hole behind me immediately going off on one about the bad game(!) SuperKev had on Wednesday night (!!). For which he and his dickhead friend got the same treatment. Enough is enough with these empty heads looking for a scapegoat, some of whom are also gutless racists. They have to be TOLD, up front and personal.

Towards the end Moyesy threw on The Dook and Juli in an attempt to break through but we never really looked likely. By then they were in determined defensive mode. The final goal came when Nace deservedly got robbed of the ball as he dawdled on our left side penalty area. It sort of summed up the game.

Moyesy's subs were interesting because they were seemingly the opposite of what Smiffy would have done. He put on two additional front men instead of reinforcing the midfield. You pays your money and takes your choice in this kind of thing. You have to work with what you've got. And the fact is, right now we haven't got much at all. A couple of injuries and we're down to the bare bones.

This is exacerbated by the limits now placed on transfers between now and next Spring. It's an interesting experiment designed to prevent anybody buying their way out of trouble, and thus (theoretically) depriving those with temporary buying power of an unfair advantage. We'll see. I am in favour of anything which discourages players from moving on at any kind of whim.

I have now seen three of our four opening fixtures. This game, like the others, shows that we are seemingly within two or three players of a good team. The weaknesses are mainly in midfield, but also at central defence. Smiffy tried to solve this by packing the midfield area. Moyesy is trying to solve it by attacking more, the introduction of a couple of new players and a more rigorous fitness regime. Only time will tell which is the more successful.

In addition to this, Tony Hibbert is beginning to get to grips with the adult world at right back. At the moment, the owl arses of the game know he's a rookie so they attack as often as they can down our right flank. In this game Huckerby tested him on a lot of occasions. In the end Tony won, which is encouraging. He seems to me to improve slightly with each game. I think he's well worth persevering with and it appears that Moyesy thinks the same way.

Up front, SuperKev has had a good start to the season. Hopefully he's got over the worst affects of that knee injury. If he has, he could make this a good last hurrah. We can't realistically expect him to last beyond this season, and nor can he. The Rad's pace looks absolutely phenomenal again and well capable of ripping any defence in two particularly if he starts a run from wide right. The Duke's promise is there for all those who want to see…………………whether he makes the grade or not is in his own lap and that of fate.

As I write, we are in mid-table after one win, two draws and one defeat. This is about what most of us expected. But as usual we fret it could have been much better with wins over bashing Brum and a fairly poor City side. In some ways I am glad we haven't gone zooming up the table from the off since this would have created an air even more unreal since Moyesy's replacement of Smiffy. Moyesy's problem is that he won't have much room for error.

As usual, our footy club's affairs are anything but boring, unlike the balance sheet Suits and media hacks who temporarily dominate the game. There is still an element of playing uncertainty which keeps the REAL game alive, as Venables the spiv is finding out at execrable corporate Leeds. The sooner we boot these shitheads out, and that includes the two pricks sitting behind me at the Brum and City games, the better it will be for our game.

It is a pity I won't be at so many games this season due to more pressing matters. It is going to be interesting on all fronts. Let's hope The Beautiful Game doesn't get too disfigured in the process.