Young Guns Tackle Grass Roots Game

As members of a generation that is often labelled lazy and lamented for showing a lack of initiative, it would seem that Jarrad Ince and Danny Millen are doing all they can in order to avoid being tarred with the same brush.  The inseparable double act who have been friends since childhood have now taken the bold step into the world of business together and the Marple pair are bringing a fresh perspective and much-needed enthusiasm to Grass Roots sport.

Millen and Ince hope that soon, this will be a  thing of the past.

Fit 4 Kidz targets a niche in the market and offers the parents of children aged 2-5 the opportunity to introduce their kids to sport in a safe and fun environment.  I asked Millen about the aims of the company, ‘there is currently no structure in place to offer a stepping stone into sport from pre-school into primary education, by setting up Fit 4 Kidz we feel we’re doing our bit to help curb childhood obesity and get children interested in sport and healthy living at an early age.’  He went on to add that cuts to the funding of sports in the UK, made by the coalition government, haven’t helped the problem of childhood obesity and that it may take more companies like Fit 4 Kidz to help bridge the gap.  The general consensus in Britain is that Grass Roots sport is a struggling industry and Ince and Millen both agree that there is room for improvement but insist that companies like theirs, amongst others, are crucial when it comes to the development of youth sport in the UK. 

London's Olympic Stadium.

With the Olympics just around the corner the duo are hopeful that the games will leave a massive legacy and rejuvenate the country’s love of sport, ‘We’re a multisport company so obviously we’ll take a massive interest in the London Games.  A successful Olympic campaign would be a good thing for companies like ours.’

Ince and Millen, both 20, show a refreshingly positive attitude to their work and are thriving on the responsibility of running their own business and the rewards that brings.  The emphasis, they stress, is on providing an introduction to sport in a fun, caring and positive environment and there is no doubt that the local lads offer a valuable service to their local community; running sessions in schools, playgroups and nurseries around the Stockport area.  The company’s early success has seen them begin to branch out into Tameside and its surrounding areas. 

The company formed in early 2011 after Jarrad and Dan both decided to make fresh starts and use their coaching qualifications, love for sport and initiative to provide the youth in their local area with a stepping stone into Physical Education.  As well as running Fit 4 Kidz the pair also manages to find the time to coach the youth team at local Evo-Stick League club New Mills AFC, who have recently began to offer young aspiring footballers in the area the chance to become full time scholars, in a rare move for a club at this level.  Despite this the boy’s focus is unwavering and their determination to see the growth of their brain child continue is plain for all to see.  They coach with passion and an immovable smile that is mirrored on the faces of the children they coach. 

Maintaining the steady growth of Fit 4 Kidz is the main aim and they continue to receive interest from schools and nurseries in the local areas for their services. This ambitious pair is setting themselves no boundaries and they have not ruled themselves out of the running for the vacant England Managers post, ‘We’ve sent our CVs off but not heard back from the FA yet, our managerial records are untarnished so we’re hopeful’.

Blogging

A month into my fledgling blogging career I feel that now is an appropriate time to justify my ‘incessant ravings’, as one particular individual described them.  Along with this rather hurtful comment I have received a broad spectrum of reactions for my blog posts which have covered a great many varying topics.  Overall the feedback has been good and most of your comments have encouraged me to ignore any negative comments – mainly from close friends – and persevere.  The feedback I have received has been ego boosting and to some extent, life affirming and I thank you for that.  For those less enamoured with my satirical viewpoints on this great mystery we call life I can only apologise for subjecting you to them.  This does not mean to say, however that I will stop, rather that you - the disgruntled minority - will have to become more tolerant.

The blog started out of boredom, as many great things do; the game of football, and electricity to name just two examples.  In its early days it attracted rather more attention than I had anticipated yet as the novelty factor has worn off over the weeks my following has dwindled to a select few who find my ramblings witty and insightful.  Either that or they are just reading out of pity.  The blog has become somewhat of a creative outlet for me and without it I feel I would be a much less pleasant person to be around, it gives me the opportunity to vent my frustrations and share my often flawed rationale with you, the public.  The fact is that writing my blog provides a certain cathartic release and without it I surely would have suffered a heart attack by now, or at the very least developed some kind of ulcer. 

One thing that I was prepared for when I embarked on my blogging quest was the ridicule I would be subjected to from my close friends who have branded me, amongst other things, a ‘weirdo’ and  a ‘freak’, some have even gone as far to say that they are concerned about my mental state.  I agree that the unfortunate timing of my blog may lead people to believe that it is one component of a premature mid-life crisis; I find myself at a crossroads in my life after withdrawing from University and moving back in with my parents.  Contrary to the views of some of my oldest friends, my recent literary endeavours are neither a cry for help nor a symbol of a fragile mental state.  A much more telling sign of my sanity is the fact that I often like to spice up shopper-employee relations, whilst purchasing items or ordering food, by portraying myself as one of many characters I have developed over time.  Just this morning I was Hans Schneider, a high flying German business executive on a three day jaunt from Dresden to secure a lucrative construction contract, who had a hankering for some mint imperials.  I feel the whole experience livens up the day’s proceedings and leaves the unwitting victim culturally enriched.

One of the labels that has not been associated with me in the midst of my blogging is that of ‘Literary Maverick’; if I had business cards printed that would be my title, I feel it is edgy and unique with just the right level of self-importance.  As a Literary Maverick I still have a great deal to learn about writing, I would be lost without the tools that Microsoft Word equips me with; I am over reliant on spell check - without it, some of the more elaborate words I use would merely be jumbles of letters - and my grasp on punctuation is similar to that of an eight year old.  It has got to the stage where a sentence looks naked without a semi-colon; this is something that needs to be remedied.

For those of you who dismiss this foray into the world of writing as a hobby I say to you, what is wrong with having a hobby?  I was in dire need of a new one, there is only so long a man can cope with the pain of blisters brought about by continual masturbation.  But that’s another story entirely.  I have utilised the social forum of Facebook as my main virtual advertising hording, something I have been criticised for after I questioned peoples’ reliance on the social networking site in one of my earliest blogs. 

I suppose that my ultimate hope for this collection of ramblings about my everyday irks is that somehow, amongst all of the blogging hopefuls out there, a wealthy magazine editor will stumble across my blog and offer me a great deal of money to write for him.  That is the dream and hopefully one day it will become a reality, but for now I will soldier on with my blogging antics and continue to strike fear into friends and acquaintances that one day they will be the subject of one of my blogs, because, when all is said and done, haters gonna hate.

Here’s a video of a dog talking http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nGeKSiCQkPw

Alcohol

There are many ways a person can have fun, theme parks provide a valuable service to those who seek the thrill of adrenaline coursing through their veins, whilst for those who would prefer something rather less organic to be coursing through their veins, there is always class A drugs.  For those who don’t have the courage to board rollercoasters nor the funds to maintain a drug addiction, alcohol is a suitable alternative, providing a short term high and loss of inhibitions, followed - a few drinks later - by a state of complete amnesia.  Alcohol, if enjoyed in relative moderation (relative to George Best) is not only a thirst quenching beverage but a remarkably effective social tool providing links between beautiful people and those less physically blessed for centuries. 

A common sight most Saturday nights

Another point to be added to the list of pros when it comes to alcohol is the variety of forms in which it can be consumed.  For men there is beer, which in itself has a plethora of variations to please every pallet.  Bitter; for the older generations and those who like to gain weight while they drink, comes in many elaborately and ominously named forms, Old Peculiar and Tangle Foot to name two such poisons.  Lager is Bitter’s less robust and fizzier cousin and can leave you bloated and looking pregnant after around four pints.  It is the drink of choice amongst young to middle aged men and is the reason why a lot of stag nights take a sour turn at one stage or another.  Wine is consumed by those who wish to get legless with a sense of class, whilst ciders such as White Ace and Frosty Jacks are the drink of choice for those on a budget or devoid of taste buds.  Curiously as the night comes to end the need to drink escalates and young revellers can often be seen scrambling around in the vicinity of the bar, fighting with their wallets in order to purchase one final round of unimaginably strong and unpleasant shots.  This can often make or break the night and can be the difference between taking a member of the opposite sex home for a night of clumsy, uncoordinated debauchery and throwing up on them. 

Tequila, I feel, deserves a paragraph to itself. A highly debilitating brand of alcohol deriving from South America, its consumption is a sure fire way to ensure a hangover of biblical proportions the following day.  On three separate occasions I have made the mistake of introducing Tequila to my system and on each occasion the outcome has been the same, as I am left unable to see or speak in a pool of my own vomit.  Graphic this may be but hopefully it serves as an effective deterrent for anyone who was considering consuming it later on this evening.

There are many occasions on which alcohol is a suitable accompaniment to the festivities and 18^th birthday parties are possibly the Holy Grail.  Often this is the first occasion that a person is introduced to the joys of alcohol and it is the first time that they have not had to disguise their Vodka Lemonade in an empty Sprite bottle and polish it off in a dark alley by the side of KFC, for fear of having it confiscated by the long arm of the law.  Once 18 the shackles of sobriety are off and you are free to sample such delights as Jaegerbombs, Sambuca shots and Vodka Redbull as you please.

‘Pre-drinking’ is a phenomenon that has grown in popularity in recent years; the idea – as the name would suggest - is to commence drinking before you hit the town, in order to make a saving.  The concept is a savvy one and is helping many of us stumble through the sobering financial climate, bleary eyed and, as Homer Simpson once said, ‘Beer, the cause of, and solution to, all of life’s problems’.

Tonight being Saturday there will be a large number of you reading this who are preparing for a night on the tiles, some of you may have already started drinking and I salute you.  Your endeavour to brave the elements and laugh in the face of recession is admirable.  Please remember however that alcohol does funny things to the mind, it impairs your judgement and leaves you bereft of your faculties which can result in some questionable decision making.  A prime example of this is the massive increase in the number of Kebabs sold in the early hours; anyone in their right mind would leave this particular delicacy well alone and the taste that remains in the morning, which adds to the misery of the hangover, is testament to this.  I will leave you now, as I often do with a little video for your collective amusement.  We’ve all been drunk before, but I think it’s safe to say that on the morning that this video was shot, this man was the most-drunken specimen on the planet. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7a7l7IHXZwk&feature=fvwrel The choice of backing music, I think you’ll agree, is a nice touch.  Enjoy and drink responsibly. 

The Cinema

A trip to the cinema is one particular outing that has been enjoyed by people of all walks of life for decades, young or old, male or female, the cinema is a highly inclusive pastime and offers something for everyone. 

The cinematic experience begins before you even leave the car with the eternal hunt for a vacant space in the painfully undersized car parking facilities boasted by the complex, which invariably houses – not only a cinema – but a gym, bowling alley and a variety of restaurants to tempt even the most strong-willed of weight watchers.  The quest for a parking space will more often than not result in the abandonment of the vehicle in a dubious looking cul-de-sac or a supermarket an hours walk away from your destination.

One of the most common uses of the cinema experience is as a venue for the ‘first date’, the desired effect being that a new couple will be able to make it through the awkwardness of the whole scenario by sitting in a dark room, not talking.  The extent of the effectiveness of a trip to the pictures on a first date will depend largely on the film choice.  I speak from experience, apparently ‘treating’ a girl to a gun-slinging, knife-wielding, neck breaking, bloodbath such as The Expendables is not a wise move.  It turns out that Sly Stallone et al didn’t ‘do it’ for this particular girl and I never heard from her again.

Popcorn is a stalwart of cinema culture and - like petrol and diamonds – its price has spiked dramatically over the years, as has the number of bank loans acquired for trips to the cinema.  The popping kernels are seldom consumed outside of a cinema situation and one often wonders who first thought it would be an appropriate morsel to chow down on whilst watching a film.  Also available as in-film snacks are hot-dogs, nachos and other such messy and loud foods guaranteed to make the theatre a thoroughly unpleasant place to be.  As the film gets underway you get pelted with guacamole - amongst other condiments and relishes - and your feet begin to stick to the floor as years of spilt Coca Cola develop a highly effective adhesive.

After purchasing your chosen snacks, a balancing act - in a bid to avoid a post food fight scene - begins as you attempt to show your tickets to the cheery and accommodating staff who enthusiastically direct you to your screen and wish you, with the utmost conviction, an enjoyable visit.

Gone are the days when you could take your own snacks and sweets into the theatre, this is now strictly forbidden and has forced many a small nearby sweet shop into bankruptcy.  This ruling has also gone some way to undermining the once feared and revered role of security staff; bag searches and the art of frisking are not what they used to be: “What is it you’re looking for? Guns, Knives?” “No…Malteasers”.  Surely making alcohol available to patrons inside the cinema is more of a risk than allowing someone to bring a Snickers bar from home.

After a short walk down an extravagantly carpeted hallway, strewn with cardboard cut-outs of Disney , the ultimate destination is arrived at and the search for a seat in the pitch black of the theatre will commence.  The skills required to do this without night vision, whilst laden with a plethora of refreshments and squeezing your way past already seated cinema-goers of varying shape, are akin to those listed as prerequisites for the Royal Marines.  Eventually you will find the perfect seat behind an afro bearing individual and the trailers will begin.

Trailers are cited by many as their favourite component of the cinema experience, however I have never really cared for them.  In my view trailers do either one of two things; show so much of the film they are advertising that it makes it pointless to go and watch it in its entirety or serve to ruin the film you have actually paid to see by forcing upon you a realisation that you should have forked out for the one being advertised. 

The film itself will be punctuated by a chorus of coughs, mutterings of those who have quite literally ‘lost the plot’ and loud and piercing ‘shushes’, of those engrossed in the film who take exception to the lady in the 11^th row whose laughter is so raucous and belated to the punch lines that it is becoming offensive.  Upon leaving the theatre the gentle hum of amateur film critics reviewing what they have just seen plays to the beat of crunching popcorn beneath the feet of the exiting crowd as they shield their eyes upon being reintroduced to the phenomenon of light.

The cinema has and always will be an enjoyable break in the monotony of everyday life.  Here is a heart-warming video of one man who loved the cinema so much he used it to propose to his girlfriend. Enjoy! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pnVAE91E7kM

The England Job

After Capello fled in a blaze of fury who will be the man to step into his extravagantly priced Italian loafers?  The 65 year old was a popular choice back in 2008 in the wake of Steve McClaren’s reign of terror which saw the National team fail to qualify for a major tournament for the first time since 1994.  The Italian then set about proving his credentials as a tactician in his debut game, a 2-1 victory over Switzerland at Wembley.  In 2008, as is the case each time the vacancy opens up, the same names were banded about and the same questions arose.  Thankfully the days when the likes of Alan Curbishley and John Gregory were touted for the post are long gone, yet some names have remained stalwarts in the selection process; Harry Redknapp and Martin O’Neill to name just two. 

‘He has to be English’, is a pre-requisite that has fallen on deaf ears in the past, in light of the appointments of Sven Goran-Eriksson and more recently Fabio Capello.  Sandwiched in between them was the ‘Wally with the brolly’ who was offered the job - post Sven – only to squander, painfully, the opportunity to move out of his mentor, Sir Alex Ferguson’s, shadow.  There was little anger after that night at Wembley, on which Croatia out-battled and out-played us in the pouring rain, as there was in South Africa after Capello and co capitulated against the Germans.  Instead there was a great sense of pity as we watched McClaren looking on helplessly at the demise of his side.  Will the catastrophe of his appointment sway the FA to look overseas once again this time around?

The overwhelming favourite is of course Harry Redknapp, he is a national treasure, fresh from acquittal for tax evasion and if any Englishman has earned the right to manage his country then ‘Arry is that man.  His Tottenham side play an exciting brand of football that has seen him win many admirers in his White Hart Lane tenure; utilising old fashioned style wing play, his strategy is both a blast from the past and a view to the future as more recent, tried and tested styles from the likes of Arsenal and Chelsea appear be losing their cutting edge.  Would a man as proud as Redknapp want to risk tarnishing his reputation in the hot seat which has seen countless predecessors melt under the pressure?

If Harry were to take the job he would be leaving a side, who next year will not only be aiming to qualify for the Champions League but also for the title, for a mediocre national team whose 5^th place in the FIFA ranking belies their ability and recent results.  The nation as a whole is disillusioned with their national team, once a source of great pride, the majority now take to the field not because they want to, but because they feel that they have to.  The Three Lions is no longer worn with valour but displayed as a symbol of failure and disappointment.  Despite ringing endorsements from fellow Premier League Managers, Sir Alex Ferguson and Martin O’Neill highlighting the Tottenham boss as the ideal candidate for the job, I feel that it would be foolish to leave what he has built in North London for International Management.  However, Redknapp himself has admitted that he views the England Managers job as the pinnacle of the game.  Who knows, Harry could well be the man to reinvent and enthuse the current crop of beleaguered players but in my eyes there is really only one man for the job…

Jose Mourinho is the only man who could fulfil the over-inflated expectations of England fans who for years have bemoaned the failures of the national representatives of the game they so love.  He would bring what he has brought to every side that he has managed; arrogance, ruthlessness and a togetherness that breeds success.  Whilst he has no international experience he has an advantage over Redknapp - if the FA choose to view his CV - in that he has managed in four different countries, succeeding in each whereas Harry’s managerial career has been limited to England.   Who can honestly say they wouldn’t want the self-proclaimed ‘Special One’ in charge of their nation?

In reality whoever choses to take up the mantle and pick up where Mr Capello left off is a brave man, who in their right mind would board the Titanic with full knowledge of the outcome?  What is required is not necessarily patriotism, as Stuart Pearce will undoubtedly bring as Caretaker boss, but a sense of pride and simply, a will to win at all costs.  The poison chalice was supped dry by Fabio Capello, it has now been refilled and lies in wait for the next candidate.

Dream Team

The Concept

The concept of the ‘Dream Team’ is to find the perfect blend of attack and defence, an intriguing mix of skill and simplicity and a destructive combination of flair and power.  As fans we have seen thousands of players both in the flesh and on our television screens and therefore the process of selecting an elite eleven is an agonising one to say the least.  I will be attempting to build my own starting line-up from the players and teams that I have witnessed in my life time, a hybrid that - I think - would be capable of beating any other mixture of talent on any given day.

The Selection Process

I have opted to select only players that I myself have seen play live, either in the flesh or on the television (the truth is, as a Plymouth Argyle fan, I have not seen any of the players I have selected in the flesh!).  This then, rules out such greats as Pele, Maradona and Cruyff from the selection process, whilst I have great respect and appreciation for their reputations as professionals, it would be unreasonable for me to include them in my line-up based purely on what I have been told about them: this is my Dream Team.  I have resisted bias and in turn resisted temptation to delve into the Argyle archives and select a Home Park hero such as Paul Wotton or David Friio.  When selecting a Dream Team it is common-place for supporters to use their biases as a way of whittling down the list of players available for selection; seldom would Paul Scholes, despite his un-doubtable talent, appear in the Dream Team of a Manchester City fan.  My blend of cultures and styles of play is made up of players whom at one time or another have amazed me on a football pitch.

The Formation

Gone are days when teams would cancel each other out with corresponding 4-4-2 set-ups.  The influx of foreign talent in Europe’s top leagues has resulted in a hybrid blend of play utilising a variety of formations.  Jose Mourinho has been a pioneer for this in recent times, upon his arrival at Stamford Bridge he began to utilise a defensive midfielder behind two more advanced middle men thus creating what has come to be known as the ‘Makelele role’.  The variety of different formations and styles of play across Europe make tournaments such as the Champions League a feast for the eyes, as not only players but managers can demonstrate the skills of their trade to millions worldwide.  After much deliberation I decided upon an adaptation of the 4-3-3 set-up.  The ‘keeper and back four are as you would expect, of the three midfielders, one lies deeper protecting the back four and breaking up play in the middle of the park.  Either side of this man are two playmakers whose job it is to receive the ball from the deep lying midfielder and the back four and advance play.  Ahead of the two playmakers are two wider advanced players who have free roles to attack and link the play between the midfield and the target man who completes the eleven. 

The Manager

The Special One - An obvious choice

The choice of the Manager for my Dream Team was a simple one. Jose Mourinho has proved time and time again over the past eight years or so, that he is the best manager in world football; winning league titles in three (soon to be four?) different countries and a two time Champions League winner, on top of his charisma, tactical know-how and pure entertainment value make Jose the only choice as Head Coach of my Dream Team.

The Essentials

In my view, there are three things that every team needs, if they have these things then a great team can form:

Taibi perfected this pose during his time in  Manchester

1.            A Goalkeeper that the back four can trust; there is nothing worse as a defender than being made to feel on edge by your ‘keeper, you could have the best back four in the world but if you have a Massimo Taibi or a David James between the sticks then your defence is going to be compromised. 

2.            A tough-tackling midfielder is essential, to opposing fans players like Karl Henry and Lee Cattermole may seem like nothing more than thugs but to the fans of their respective clubs they are priceless commodities.  Week in week out they take to the field and do the dirty work, whilst more aesthetically pleasing players take the plaudits, however, take a player like Henry or Cattermole out of the side then you’ll find that your flair players will struggle to flourish.

3.            A Target Man.  Perhaps the most important aspect of any team, the Target Man will provide an outlet for 90 minutes and is the key to linking up midfield and attack.  There is nothing more frustrating to football fans than their team lumping up long-ball after long-ball to two diminutive forwards.  This does not mean to say that small players cannot make effective target men, Carlos Tevez proved adept at the role on many occasion at Manchester City.  The Target Man requires strength, areal ability, a glue –like first touch and above all, an astute footballing brain.

My Dream Team

#1 Edwin Van Der Sar

#2 Cafu  #4 Traianos Dellas  #5 Alessandro Nesta  #3 Ashley Cole

#6 Patrick Vieira

#7 Zinedine Zidane    #8 Andres Iniesta

#10 Lionel Messi                                                   #11 Ronaldinho

#9 Ruud Van Nistelrooy

Manager: Jose Mourinho

Summery

I would not expect for one minute for any football fan to come up with exactly the same line-up as me if they were challenged to build their own Dream Team, every fan has his own view and that, at the end of the day is what makes football the game we love so much and better than any other sport in the world.  It’s a cliché, but football truly is a game of opinions and this is what keeps us coming back for more, week in week out.

Public Transport

I am yet to pass my driving test.  It is a burden that grows heavier with each day and the longer I leave it the more painfully evident it becomes that it is something I need to accomplish; not because I am restricted in my travels, nor because it will make me a more accepted member of society but, above all else, because I have a strong and impending feeling that public transport will be the death of me.

I spend more time on public transport than most, be it a bus or a train I can more often than not be found staring vacantly out of a window watching the world as it passes by me in an unrecognisable blur, urging the minutes to pass so that I can escape the torment.  The pain of using public transport would be dramatically softened if the destinations to which I was travelling were somewhat more exotic than Stockport; hardly a cultural melting pot.  So you can imagine my angst, as the sound of walking sticks and the elderly being thrown the through the front window - after a less-than-considerate slam on the breaks from the surly driver - signals the end to another journey, when what greets me is a town in which the people are as dilapidated and in need of repair as the buildings that make it up.

One of many preferable alternative modes of transportation to the Megabus

I am going to enlighten you now with a tale of one particular mode of public transport with which you may not all be familiar. Providing a valuable service to those hard-up on cash, the Megabus is the transportation of choice amongst tramps and students.  Let me first outline the advantage of this service: there is no cheaper way, short of tying yourself underneath a car, of getting from A to B, although the risk of injury is roughly the same.  Prices are an eighth of what you will pay for the same journey on a train and there is good reason for this.  If you ever book with the Megabus, keep your expectations low, for this bus service is like no other.  For a miserly fee you get a bus service that has been on time only once since it was founded in 2003: this was in 2006 when, to the shock of puzzled on-lookers, the 14:45 service from Fife to Edinburgh screeched into the bus terminal a full 3 hours early due to a brakes failure.  In addition to the tardiness of the Megabus the leg room it provides is appropriate only for victims of double lower limb amputation, I have spent many an hour with my knees in my face fighting off cramp and pins and needles in conditions that vary from arctic to something resembling what I’d imagine the temperature is like in the Devil’s living room.  The Megabus truly epitomises the saying ‘you get what you pay for’.

It’s not just the vehicles and the conditions inside them that make public transport a thoroughly unpleasant experience but also the people that use it.  The majority of citizens who use trains and buses are just normal human beings who recognise the importance of social fair play and personal hygiene.  However there are a select few amongst the hordes who set foot on Britain’s public transport on a daily basis who have clearly never been taught the importance of soap and water in modern society.  More often than not one of these unwashed cretins finds that the seat next to me looks more appealing than any of the others in the empty carriage and parks him or herself down, before proceeding to fidget in a manner conducive to producing regular bursts of fragrance like a warped Glade air freshener.  If you have ever been victim of such a crime then that stench will have remained with you ever since, no amount of scrubbing can rid your nostrils of it; If there was a way that we could separate the foul-smelling from the showerers on public transport in some kind of hygiene apartheid, I for one, would be all for it.

The experience of public transportation is a rite of passage, until you have waited at a bus stop in the North West of England’s equivalent of a monsoon, for a train that is destined never to arrive or been battered black and blue by on-rushing passengers boarding the train as you attempt to alight, you cannot be considered a fully integrated member of society.  Those people whose only exposure to public transport is the plane journey to and from their summer holiday destination don’t know how lucky they are!

John Terry

He is possibly the most disliked player in the Premier League and almost certainly the most disliked player in the England National team, John Terry is, in all fairness, a good player, yet as he has proven on countless occasions, a questionable human being.  Somewhere along the line his morality appears to have been seriously corrupted and In recent years trouble has seemed to follow the Chelsea and England captain in a relentless bid to besmirch his name.

There is no doubt that Terry has been one of the best defenders in the country, if not the world over the past decade and he owes a lot of that to his obvious qualities as a leader both on the pitch and in the dressing room.  He epitomises the stereotypical English centre-half in a generation of footballers better known for lurid coloured boots and fast cars than their commitment and endeavour on the pitch.

In the Terry Butcher mould, John Terry was groomed as a future England captain from his very early days in the Chelsea side as a product of their youth set up.  Given his unflinching attitude on the pitch and his patriotism that was displayed through tears after England’s World Cup exit to the Germans in 2010, it would be reasonable for any unknowing bystander to think that Mr Terry should be held as some sort of a hero amongst the English footballing fraternity.  But as we know, that is not the case.

Gone are the days when the England football team was revered and the players that wore the famous three lions idolised; the likes of JT, Rooney and Ashley Cole are a far cry from heroes of old, Hurst, Charlton and Styles.  However, can the collective distain for the current crop of English stars be attributed to a lack of success alone?  In 1966 the squad was made up of a group of men that the public could relate to, yes, they were still superstars but there were no huge pay packets and little pretentiousness amongst them as there is today and as a result, expectations were less. 

John Terry is the logical choice as England Captain; there is no way of getting around that, no matter what your personal view of the man is, he is the best man for the job. As we all know, he was given a well-publicised reprieve once before after being stripped of the armband for his extra-marital activities with the ex-girlfriend of one-time best pal Wayne Bridge, yet a second looks unlikely in the face of a court-case for allegations of racist abuse.  So the question remains, if John Terry isn’t going to be first out of the tunnel, will he be in it at all and moreover, will he even board a plane to this year’s European Championships?

I have always been a fan of JT and I’ll admit I have fought in his corner on more than one occasion in the past, yet in light of events at Loftus Road in October of last year it is impossible to defend him any further.  He is an ilk of footballer that is dying out but in reality, he has contributed massively to his own downfall.

Transfer Deadline Day Review

Twelve months ago football fans up and down the country were glued to their screens as Premier League clubs scrapped and fought until seconds before the deadline to secure the signatures of their wanted men.  Liverpool spent big in the bid for silver-wear bringing in the Andy Carroll from Newcastle United for 35 million. They splashed out a further 22.7 million on Luis Suarez from Ajax to reinvent their strike force after Fernando Torres had departed for Stamford Bridge on the same day for a fee of 50 million, one that 365 days on he is still nowhere near justifying.  Perhaps the shrewdest bit of business that day and indeed in recent times was the signing of Rafael Van der Vaart for a bargain at 8 million from Real Madrid; not the first time that Harry Redknapp has displayed his panache in the transfer market.

Given the big spending of the 2011 January transfer window and FIFA’s insistence that clubs tighten their belts, it was perhaps no surprise that this year teams were less willing to flex their financial muscle in bringing in new recruits.  This does not mean, however that it was any less entertaining or intriguing. 

When we think ‘Deadline Day’ we think of managers giving hurried and usually vague interviews from the windows of their Jags, players emerging from clubs’ training facilities with their agents (usually on their phones) by their sides and Jim White shouting at us on Sky Sports News keeping us up to date with the goings-on from around the grounds.  The most stressful day of the footballing calendar for Managers and Agents alike, was complicated further this year by the small matter of a round of Premier League fixtures on the evening of the deadline.  Here’s how it all unfolded.

Arguably the biggest signing of the window came from a somewhat unlikely source as Everton raided Rangers’ front line and secured the signature of Nikica Jelevic for a fee of 5 million leaving Ally McCoist rather depleted in the forwards department having failed to sign a replacement in time; David Healy will have to suffice until the summer at least.  It was a shrewd acquisition from David Moyes who has not only bolstered his sides’ hopes for a Europa League spot but also effectively handed the title to his former club Celtic. 

Liam Ridgewell continued on his tour of the midlands switching from Championship promotion chasers Birmingham City to Roy Hodgson’s West Brom side for an undisclosed fee.  Rumour has it Liam is very family orientated and is merely aiming to honour all of his family’s individual allegiances; his Mum is a Villa fan, his Dad a Blue and his Uncle is a West Brom fan.  The 27 year old has put pen to paper on a two-year deal in which time he’ll be praying for his Grandma to kick the bucket so he doesn’t have to sign for Walsall!

Roman Abramovich was not his usual big-spending self this transfer window; Chelsea spent just 14.5 million (still the highest spenders!) on two players, one of which was arguably the steal of the whole transfer window as they signed England Centre Half Gary Cahill from Bolton for a measly 7 million. Joining Cahill on the Kings Road is 7 year-old Kevin De Bruyne from Belgium League side Genk who was welcomed by the media today at Stamford Bridge, only for his mum to have to come and collect him as it all got a bit too much for him.  (If you have witnessed De Bruyne’s pre-pubescent baby face you will understand the last two jokes).  The exciting young prospect has been loaned straight back to Genk, a move welcomed by his parents who were quoted as saying ‘His paper round won’t do itself!’ Ok, I’ll stop.  This ‘automatic re-loan’ is becoming more and more common in the game these days; a less high profile subject of such a move was Murray Wallace who Huddersfield signed from Falkirk before loaning him back immediately to the Scottish division one side.

Sam Allardyce and Harry Redknapp are well known for their dealings in the transfer market and are usually guaranteed to provide a shock or pull off a shrewd acquisition on Deadline Day.  Sam Allardyce did not disappoint, bringing in Manchester United bad-boy Ravel Morrison on a permanent deal.  The hot headed product of United’s youth system is tipped by many for big things and will be joined by another striker, Nicky Maynard from Bristol City for whom a big money move has been in the offing for some time; Big Sam forked out a fee in the region of 2 million for his services.  Whilst Upton Park was a hive of activity yesterday with former Bolton flop Ricardo Vaz Te completing a trio of attacking additions there was less of a buzz around White Hart Lane. Harry Redkanpp was otherwise engaged and evidently left any transfer negotiations in the wrong hands as Tottenham captured the signature of Louis Saha from Everton late on.  It was an unexpected move and despite frantic calls to Joe Jordan to call off the move from the dock, Harry will now have to find a way of fitting King Louis into his plans.  The deal brought with it more good news for Everton however, as fan’s favourite Steven Pienaar re-joined the Toffees on loan.

Let’s take a break for a second to cast our eyes over some of the more absurd transfer rumours of this window.  Having lost goal machine Demba Ba to the Africa Cup of Nations after Christmas, Alan Pardew was rumoured to have jumped on a plane to Colombia in an attempt to entice Faustino Asprilla out of retirement and back to St. James’ until a warning phone call from a Mr Keegan put paid to the deal.  In a month of spectacular returns: Thierry Henry to Arsenal and Paul Scholes to Champions Manchester United there was a buzz around Anfield as rumours of a double return surfaced, however Igor Biscan and Djimi Traore both failed medicals and the deals fell through at the 11^th hour much to the agony of the Kopites.  No ‘Transfer Rumour’ section in any article would be complete without a mention of Manchester City; they reportedly offered a reward of up to 100 million for any club willing to take Carlos Tevez off their hands.

Sticking with Manchester City, whilst relatively inactive this window, they were able to off-load the hapless Wayne Bridge, being kept out of the side by both Aleksander Kolarov and Gael Clichy, to Sunderland.  Martin O’Neill has brought him to the North East in a bid to do what Frankie Sandford has been unable to and spark some life into the one-time England full-back.  Thus far the return of O’Neill to management has revitalised Sunderland and who is to say that, in spite of more than one display of defensive ineptitude whilst on-loan at the Hammers last season, he can’t do the same for Bridge.

QPR made the most signings in this January transfer window with six altogether, however it was their final two on deadline day that caught the eye the most.  Mark Hughes purchased a new strike force for a combined fee of 9 million in the shape of Bobby Zamora from Fulham and the irrepressible Djibrill Cisse, given an escape by Lazio after a baron year in front of goal for the Italian club.  In my view, a strike force who between them spend more time on the Physio’s table than the rest of the squad combined and are more famous for ‘putting the ball in the back of row Z’ can never be classed as good business, especially with the riches available to Sparky at Loftus Road.

So that’s it, the end of another transfer window and all that remains now is to sit back and watch as the new signings either flop or flourish under the pressure of the English game.  It may not have been the costliest transfer window with total fees totalling around an eighth of those at the same time last year, but I think you will all agree that watching Paul Merson trying to pronounce the name of Bobby Zamora’s 3 million pound replacement at Fulham on Soccer Saturday will prove to be a bargain in itself.  Welcome to the Premier League Pavel Pogrebnyak.