Musical diversity the perfect antidote to after-effects of English exits

Entering a musical maelstrom seems to be a fair way to end a momentous week of events. Jokes about England leaving Europe twice within a couple of days have abounded since the earth-shaking Britexit vote followed by the equally devastating 2-1 defeat to Iceland in Euro 2016. So what better way to float off into a parallel universe than sample a set by King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard at the Governor of Hindmarsh Hotel on Thursday evening. The Melbourne psychedelic/garage rockers have caught my attention over the past few months with raucous, frantic tracks being aired on various radio channels — notably Radio Adelaide, 3D and Triple J. They seem a prolific bunch with the amount of the material they have released since 2010. So I took a punt on two recent albums — Paper Mâché Dream Balloon and Nonagon Infinity.

The sounds are definitely “off the wall” and both CDs, to my ear, sound radically different. There is so much flute on the Paper Mâché Dream Balloon effort that I thought Ian Anderson, of Jethro Tull fame, must have been involved in production proceedings. When buying the albums and also when purchasing my ticket from the Gov, I was told how amazing the band were. “They are playing a gig, you know,” I was informed. “I know, I’m going to be there,” was my reply. I just needed a crash course into some of the band’s back catalogue to be familiar with at least some of the breakneck-speed tunes that are going to be thrashed out.

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Then on Saturday, just to prove that not everything English has fallen off the cultural cliff completely, it’s away to the Last Night of the Proms at Adelaide’s Festival Hall. This in its own way should be completely off the dial. I have never been to see a live orchestra ever before so a bit of self-indulgence will be on the menu as the Adelaide Symphony Orchestra offers its own interpretations of such stirring anthems as Land of Hope and Glory, Rule Britannia plus Jerusalem. All that should put a smile back on some of the Anglophile faces, who have endured a turbulent few days.

But there is no escaping the fact that the English are peerless at dishing out sporting humiliation. The national football team have been doing it for years, though the Iceland debacle took things to another level. Mike Atherton’s England’s cricketing Test easybeats were perennial embarrassments and the ruggah buggahs’ efforts at the last rugby World Cup caused much mirth around the rest of the globe. Both those outfits seem to have put their houses back in order and are performing well. Maybe it’s because they have Australian coaches with Trevor Bayliss overseeing a cricket revival while Eddie Jones has just masterminded a 3-0 whitewash against his native land down under.

In contrast Roy Hodgson has cut a sorry figure as England’s football leader, floundering somewhere between coy and clueless. Remember Roy was in charge at Blackburn Rovers from 1997 for one full season. His was a curious stay. His initial season started off like a runaway train with Rovers having some amazing results and leading the Premiership table. Post-Christmas things turned  into almost relegation form before sixth spot was secured on the final day with a last minute Chris Sutton winner against Newcastle United. When the bad results continued in the 1998-99 season, it was not long before Roy was sacked. I have watched Roy’s career since and was never quite convinced he was the real deal.

Apart from Roy, there has been a heavy Rovers connection at Euro 2016. Wales coach Chris Coleman played under Roy at Ewood. While pundits for beIN Sport have included ex-boss Graeme Souness, who was scathing about England’s woeful efforts. And rightly so. But no doubt the pampered Premiership poodles will toddle off to their clubs and forget about it all in a few weeks when the obscene amount of earnings continue to come cascading in. Alongside Graeme on various panels have been ex-players Michel Salgardo, Andrew Cole and Jason McAteer. All of them a wistful reminder of better times at Ewood.

However, it seems Roy certainly wasn’t the right fit at the helm for England. But he is a highly educated man. Maybe he could get a job in politics. There are suddenly plenty of opportunities on both sides of the House of Commons after the Brexit vote. What a turn-up that was. Such a shame that every time a Leave supporter was trotted out on Oz television for a Vox Pop, they seemed to be totally as thick as the proverbial docker’s butty and even dumb to the extent that they didn’t really comprehend what they had voted for. Maybe there should be an intelligence test before folk are allowed to cast their votes. It’s Australia’s turn this weekend. A general election. And it’s compulsory. But before then… bring on King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard for some high octane escapism.

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Who? Where? When? Release of English football fixtures means it’s time to start planning ahead

This week heralded one of the most anticipated dates on the English sporting calendar — and there wasn’t even a single fixture played. Of course, I’m referring to the release of the football fixtures for the next season, which will come around in August. Every fan at each club, no matter what the disappointments of the previous campaign, will rush to see what hurdles lie ahead as a hoped for new dawn beckons in every respective case.

Usually, this will mean seeing who awaits on the opening day, when any derby clashes are scheduled, what’s in store on Boxing Day and who rounds things off on the final day — home or away when something important could be resting on the outcome. For Blackburn Rovers, the fixtures have bestowed an opening day home fixture against newly-relegated Norwich City. Boxing Day has delivered a trip to Barnsley which should make for fine trans-Pennine trek for those driving to South Yorkshire from Blackburn. New Year will see a first footing from a healthy contingent of Geordies with Newcastle United at Ewood on January 2. The season will sign off with an outing at the compact West London abode of Brentford,. This is always a popular destination thanks to the numerous pubs dotted about the vicinity of Griffin Park. There used to a pub on each corner of the ground. Not sure if one has disappeared now. And it’s all good fun to browse through the other fixtures and take dates in — even form 12,000 miles away.

In a new innovation, the cashed-up, hyped-up Premier League has already released its fixtures separately, a week earlier. That’s another sign of the EPL’s growing swagger and seemingly condescending outlook towards its cousins in the lower tiers. But there are some big names in the Championship. Clubs with real tradition and pedigree now that Aston Villa and Newcastle United have been forced to sample life at a level below their assumed station.

An amusing aside last week saw a Bristol City fan-related piece assessing the merits of various away trips for the coming season. Unfairly or not, they rated a visit to Huddersfield Town as the least attractive away day from their West Country starting point. My own recollections of visits to Huddersfield can only be based on two treks way back in the early 1970s. When Rovers enjoyed prolonged Premier League status, our paths did not cross often. Back in the days of yore the Terriers were based at their old Leeds Road ground. I recall a windy open end for the away fans and a couple of welcoming pubs pre-game. But that is all ancient history now with Town having been established since 1994 in their multi-purpose ground which seems to change its name to whoever the sponsor is. It is a venue I have never experienced. Huddersfield fans got their own back by suggesting the Bristol jibe might be a “kettle and pot black” situation and listed their five top grounds for the coming season. Surprise, surprise — Newcastle and Villa were included along with Leeds United, for a derby experience, Brentford (the clusters of nearby pubs) and Brighton.

Again, oddly at the end of last season the Newcastle fans’ forum The Mag had a dig at Villa fans for gloating at the Toon joining them in the Championship soon. “At least we have an attractive ground and city which visiting fans can enjoy,” was the claim. That’s true. The ground is virtually in the city which is packed with pubs which are packed with fans. The craic in Rosies before and after games with my Geordie chums Chris Baines, Ged Clarke, Simon Malia and Mick Ramsey used to be stirring occasions. The only drawbacks for me were twofold. In all my visits watching Rovers — both as fan or as reporter in the old press box — I have never seen us win. And the view from the elevated away section on the Leazes End means you may as well be watching from Everest. The players are the size of ants. On my last trip, another defeat, we tapped into Ivan Hickmott’s Tyneside links to procure a seat in the home ranks. Rovers did not give us much to shout about so me and Ivan were quite safe in our incognito status.

But the Toon publication’s slight on Villa Park is wide of the mark. The ground may not have a scenic approach, being in the shadow of Spaghetti Junction, but it is expansive and impressive from the away end when visiting fans were housed in the North Stand seats. And there is a hidden gem of a pub called the Bartons Arms about 15 minutes walk away near the A34 on High Street Aston. This hostelry was cannily discovered by Mick Eddleston, Ian Neville and their former away day group. It is positively ornate and spacious inside and has copious real ales on tap. Plus the kitchen serves wonderful Thai cuisine. I have experienced both wins and losses at Villa. Notable victories were the 4-0 rout featuring a Chris Sutton hat-trick in August 1997 and a 4-1 FA Cup romp with Matt Jansen briefly back on the scene in January 2003.

It looks like those two fallen giants will be high on every everyone’s wish-list to visit. But there are plenty of other enticing days out in a Division that houses some grand names from English football’s rich tapestry. And of course new kids on the block, Burton Albion. Happy travels to those fans back in Blighty.

Eddie Jones has revitalised England and helped to give rugby union overdue exposure

Rugby Union has never made any serious inroads into my sporting psyche. A strange mix of class and geography has left me immune down the years to the merits of a sport that thrills toffs and taffs (that’s posh people and the Welsh). I was never brought up on the intricate formulas of the game.

I may have visited 70-odd English football grounds, a cricket venue in every county except the homes of Glamorgan and Derbyshire, plus numerous racetracks ranging from Ascot to the dangerous Daily Telegraph day trips to York. But Twickenham, the spiritual home of rugby, has been off my radar. Well, I did go there once but that was for an REM concert for my sister Dianne’s birthday in August 2008. It was a good gig. Shame that Blackburn Rovers had to start the day off badly with a 4-1 defeat across the other side of London at West Ham.

Even when England won the World Cup against host nation Australia in November 2003 thanks to the boot of Jonny Wilkinson I was caught almost in a state of indifference as time ticked away. I did not want the game to last any longer than possible — I just wanted someone, anyone, to win. Gabs and me were watching the match in the hotel foyer of the Red Rose suite at the “real” Old Trafford, the Lancashire cricket ground. Why? Because Rovers were playing over the road against Manchester United. I just wanted to leave the bags and get to the Trafford pub on Chester Road to anesthetise myself with some pints of bitter ahead of our annual defeat at the den of Satan — the “other” Old Trafford. Eventually Wilkinson kicked the decisive drop goal in the dying seconds and I admit I did leap up and down. England had beaten Australia and I could head off for pre-game pints.

However, a sport that sees it as positive to lump the ball into the crowd to make progress and where the referee has the starring role, blowing his whistle for seemingly minor indiscretions, has never held any real fascination for me. This is not to knock the sport — it’s just a personal view. I do take a passing interest such as keeping an eye on England’s dismal World Cup early exit last year on home soil. Rugby League convert Sam Burgess seemed to be made the exclusive scapegoat for that. No wonder he’s now back at South Sydney, playing rugby league. From the debris of that doomed campaign ebullient Australian Eddie Jones took charge and immediately transformed England into worthy Six Nations champions. And so this week, for once, I have been following rugby union news with great fervour. The reason? Eddie Jones. Here is an Aussie coach in charge of the English team who is so full of vigour, good vibes and seems eminently quotable, that he just wins you over. He breezed back into his own native backyard ready for the ensuing flak, took it and gave it back via England’s win the first Test in Brisbane last week. No doubt my mate old Sydney Morning Herald mate Pete Brown would have loved it.

In the build-up to the Test, Eddie even evoked the spirit of cricket’s Bodyline, which is always assured of rousing Australians’ ire. Particularly when the English dish it up with a smile. In the words of the esteemed former journalist with The Times, Simon Barnes, Bodyline is “the greatest sporting whinge of all time.” So Eddie knew what he was doing when he stirred the pot. He almost comes across as rugby union’s version of Jose Mourinho, such is his maverick but confident demeanour. Eddie’s team certainly took it to the more fancied home side as the game unfolded in Brisbane. Bodyline-style, the bullies became the bullied. “They don’t like it up ‘em,” as Lance Corporal Jones, portrayed by Clive Dunn, used to say in the Dad’s Army television series of yesteryear. The result certainly made me sit up and take notice.

Now can Eddie and his resurgent squad carry this on  into the second Test in Melbourne on Saturday? The Australians are definitely rattled and coach Michael Cheika has been forced into changes. But they are also roused and ready for revenge. It will be no mean feat if England upset the odds again. Rugby sits some way down the sporting ladder, even in Australia, so in many ways the code should be grateful for Eddie’s England making such a bold impression. Now it’s on to Melbourne to see who will be making the headlines this weekend. For once, I will be glued to the action.

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Youthful England hoping to make big impression as Euro 2016 kicks off

Euro 2016 will probably mean more twilight football viewing for me as the competition unfolds from this weekend. And unlike cheesy Eurovision there will be no wild card entry for the Socceroos, so Australian fans will have to make of it what they will. It is hard to evaluate England’s chances as I have seen very few live games that they have been involved with of late. Suffice to say, I will not get over-excited. But to be fair to Roy Hodgson, he has given youth its fling after naming his squad so anything could happen. Indeed Geoff Hurst, the England hat-trick hero of the 1966 World Cup success this week said:”It’s the most exciting squad since ’66 ‑ people like Dele Alli have come in and been very refreshing.”

I thought England looked fine in the 2-1 win against the Socceroos in the recent friendly at Sunderland’s Stadium of Light. They had the precious asset of pace which made them look highly dangerous on the counter-attack and they created the far more promising openings on goal. This was contrary to the opinions of pro-Aussie commentator Andy Harper, who was seemingly watching a different game to me. Other recent friendly results have included a storming come-from-behind 3-2 win in Germany followed by a home defeat to the Netherlands and a fitful 2-1 success against Turkey at Manchester City’s Eastlands home.

So, it really looks hit or miss for the tournament. England have never won the Euros so if they can gain some early momentum it may give the folks back home something to take on board. Of course one of the best Euro memories is when football “came home” in the heady summer of 1996. Even looking back through rose-tinted glasses, it seemed to be a time when everything just came together — the football, the music, the craic within the general heady atmosphere around England.

I’m not too fond of David Baddiel and Frank Skinner but their anthemic Three Lions had the country singing along. England made a dithering start. I remember being on Sunday Times duty for the Switzerland game then watching in a Tufnell Park pub with Mark Fairhurst for the epic win against Scotland. And this is all so long ago that remember the striking talisman was someone who actually played for Blackburn Rovers at the time – a certain Alan Shearer. A whole nation worshipping a Rovers player. Jeez, it must have been a long time ago.

The high point came with the demolition of the Dutch at Wembley. Again, Shearer scored and this time I enjoyed it literally on home turf in the Knowles Arms, in Blackburn. Penalties saw off Spain and a semi-final meeting with Germany beckoned. Where to for this one? Believe it or not — Edinburgh to meet touring Aussie mates at that time Dave and Sarah Patching plus Gabs, with Blackburn folk Mick and Jean Charnley completing the entourage. Shearer duly scored after three minutes in a packed pub as we watched the box. Cue pandemonium — but only from mainly me. Not the rest of the pub. I could not believe that the Scots were backing Germany. The Krauts eventually equalised and that had the pub suddenly roaring. England’s usual exit on penalties seemed to cheer the Jocks up even more. I was not pleased leaving the pub that night. I have known copious Scots down the years but never realised they took their hatred of the English to such levels. After that I always watched Braveheart from a different viewpoint. His descendants were probably in that Edinburgh pub cheering for the Germans.

Amid all this feelgood vibes that summer was the Sex Pistols’ open air shindig at Finsbury Park when England players Stuart Pearce and Gareth Southgate were wheeled on stage to introduce John Lydon and co to the delight of the crowd. I was there with Mark Fairhurst (again) and Shaun Gill. A great afternoon. Even Iggy Pop popped up for a while. Heady days, but let’s fast forward to now. I have gained some kind of revenge in that the Scots are the only one of the British Isles nations missing out on France 2016. Northern Ireland, Republic of Ireland and even Wales are all there. So that’s some kind of karma retribution for Edinburgh 96. What happens from here who knows?

One of the sad aspects of the upcoming tournament is the heightened fears about terrorism, especially after occurrences in France in recent times. Alas, it’s part of the crazy world we live in with one possible miscreant already having his alleged schedule of mayhem interrupted by security forces and Police in Ukraine. Here’s hoping for some fine televised entertainment and a trouble-free event. Vive la France!

 

Venkys spring another unwelcome surprise by appointing Owen Coyle as Blackburn Rovers manager

 

For any football fan, the input to your chosen club involves emotion. You don’t mean to do it, but you do. I would love to rise above all the feelings and view every Blackburn Rovers game as a clued-up, detached pundit. And, even from 12,000 miles away, pretend I don’t really care. But I do. At present it’s close season in the Northern summer. I should be free of worry until August. But I’m not. In 2010 the lunatics, in the form of the Venky family, came out of nowhere to create a madhouse that now resides at Ewood Park. Since then it’s been one painful and depressing figurative blow to the head after another for the fans. And just as you thought the crackpot owners could not do anything more bafflingly deranged, they do. They appoint Owen Coyle as manager. At best, underwhelming for the browbeaten supporters. At worst, almost downright provocative. If you take away the emotion, you could ask Rovers fans to give the bloke a chance. So I will. But it’s a big call for all the loyalists back there, given his forever ingrained association with the Claret hillbillies from just the right side of the Yorkshire border. Yes, Burnley. And he has Bolton connections too. Plus dubious links to the carpetbagger influences that installed Steve Kean and started this whole crazy freefall into oblivion. The poor bloke Coyle doesn’t stand a chance. Even if he wins the first 10 games in charge there will be brooding onlookers in the stands waiting to have a gripe. I don’t know who is dafter — him for taking the job or the insane Indians for bringing him aboard. It’s like a bad, twisted dream. From the halcyon days of the Jack Walker regime when we were all in heaven and things could not get any better, to the equally unbelievable Venkys’ rag-tag regime of self-destruction. It’s been a barmy ride. Presently, it’s as if Masterspy and friend Zarin have got together with the cybermen, the daleks, all the Batman baddies and anyone evil in particular to create the Venkys. Mission: to ‘white ant’ the very foundations of Blackburn Rovers Football Club and send it into a bottomless black hole from which it can never return. I have to say the hapless, gormless, ignorant, arrogant, stubborn, deluded, self-indulgent, laughable, out-of-touch, gullible, odious, repugnant, reptilian, pig-headed Indians have done a great job at that. I have run out of words. Maybe John Cooper Clarke can take over. Even Doctor Who, and the incarnation of Matt Smith is actually a Rovers fan, can’t rescue us from here. We are doomed. Over to you Owen. I will try to take the feelings out of the equation and see what you have to offer. Give it a go, but don’t be surprised when the crowd — or what’s left of them down Ewood way — gets loud. And emotional.