Topo Returns

The name Topo Gigio is suddenly back in the news. "Who? " I hear you ask.

Topo Gigio  was the main character in a childrens' tv puppet show that I used to watch back in the 1960s . Apparently he's Italian, although I didn't know that at the time , I guess he must have been dubbed for us English fans.

I used to have a toyTopo Gigio  about 6 inches tall, and whilst that must have been despatched to the great toy box in the sky long long ago, the name has always stuck in the back of my mind (to the extent that I actually asked for a bottle of it once when shopping for a bottle of wine, only to receive blank looks from the woman in the off licence).

Suddenly, after about 40 years he's in the news. Why?

On Tuesday Carlos Tevez scored for Manchester City against his old team and City's great rivals Manchester United. His "celebration" was to run to a spot in front of the United bench and stand stock still, hands cupped behind his ears.

No doubt warned, after the event, of the dim view that the FA takes of anything that they consider to "bring the game into disrepute" he came up with the first excuse he could think of - namely that his celebration was in fact in honour of Topo Gigio.

Whilst Tevez is working wonders for my Fantasy Football team at the moment,  I know which one I would sooner have sat on my toy shelf as a child.

Pasing On The Reins - A Radio Legacy

As a teenager I got up in the morning, ate breakfast and, reluctantly, left for school to the sound of Terry Wogan on the radio. Even as a teenager I loved his self effacing humour, his sarcasm and his dry, subtle wit.

30 years on I have spent the last few years waking up with him again - not quite true, the radio actually comes on during Sarah Kennedy's show but she is so boring it's Wogan that actually wakes me. Whilst on tv he appears slightly more rounded (don't we all) and more reliant on the toupee than I remember (allegedly), on the radio he doesn't seem to have changed one bit.

For me (and probably many others of my generation) he is more than an entertainer, he is an institution, and would be the first on my list of "if you could invite x number of famous people to dinner .... ". He broadcasts to in excess of 8.5 million listeners yet has that unique style that gives the impresssion that he is in the same room chatting with you. The audience interaction with his shows are possibly second to none, and certainly form an integral part of it's charm.

So it was with regret that I heard today that he is to stand down from the show from next year. There are some things in life that are hard to imagine not being there, and Terry in the morning is one of them. Having said that, it is definitely better to bow out at the top than to carry on untill you become a pale shadow of your former self.

He is to be replaced by Chris Evans. On tv years ago in shows like TFI Friday and The Big Breakfast Chris was, to put it bluntly, a total knob. But he has changed over the years and I have been a great fan of his Drivetime radio show for a couple of years now, possibly the most entertaining shows on radio. It's not clear at present if the whle team that help make up his present show will transfer to the breakfast slot or whether he will be hosting a totally new style show. I feel that Wogans legacy will be passed on into good and capable hands, my only reservation is whether I can handle such a lively bubbly personality so early in the morning.

Liberty Returns

It's good to hear that the Statue of Liberty is to re-open to the public. It has remained closed since the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Centre on 11th September 2001, presumably because the Americans saw it as an iconic target for further attacks.

It's also good to hear that once it is re-opened visitor numbers will be restricted. I "done" the Statue in 1988, and it has to be the biggest disappointment of any tourist attraction I have ever visited anywhere, anytime. As the video below mentions visitors used to (as did I) queue for a couple of hours to get to the top. This was split approximately 50/50, an hour to get in and an hour shuffling very slowly one step at a time up a very tight 354 step spiral stairway. Once I eventually found myself at the top I was behind a small row of dirty windows that form the base of the crown. It would have offered amazing views of downtown Manhattan and the surrounding area if a) the windows had be cleaner ; and b) the pressure of hundreds of others following me up one step at a time left no choice but to have the briefest of glances before you heading back down a similar spiral stairway. By reducing the numbers to sensible levels visitors will have a proper chance to take in the view, as does the reporter in the video. More interesting than the external view was the fact that during the slow tortuous journey up and down you could - and still can - see the entire structure from the inside. A spectacular lady from outside but a structural-engineering wonder from within.

Hopefully I'll get a chance to pay another visit to New York one day. Whether I bother re-visiting the statue I'm not sure . The nearby Statten Island ferry offers far more spectacular views for much less cost and in far less time, probably the best ferry ride in the world.

The Return of Jiminy

• Nowadays the old knees aren't what they were and I restrict my cricketing appearances to few and far between. But in the past I played for and ran a local league side . Surprisingly we won far more than we lost, I say surprisingly because our main raisons d'etre were
  
• a) to enjoy ourselves,
  
• b)to give every one a chance to do something regardless of ability,
• c) to talk about it in the pub afterwards and
  
• d) try and win.

After several club name changes we finally settled on one suggested by my brother which conjured up the spirit of the team - Jiminy Cricket Club. We were initially worried that the Disney copyright lawyers might not like it but after taking suitable advice - amazing how much "expert opinion" eleven players can come up with over a pint or two - it was decided this was definitely a Cricket Club called "Jiminy" and not a "Jiminy Cricket" Club and if they objected they could go wish upon a star.

Unfortunately after several seasons the club eventually died a death due to dwindling numbers attending the pub after matches. But out of the blue the name is to be revived. Following a conversation on twitter ( concerning attempts to Save Benno from his sacking as skipper of his village 2nd XI ) another tweeter, Dan Slee was so enamoured by the name that a "New Jiminy Cricket Club" has been formed in the Walsall area and hope to play their first fixture soon . They have kindly appointed me Honorary (regrettably I think that bit means I don't get paid) Fielding Coach, which I humbly and gratefully accept (the fact I know not who they are or where to find them is just a minor inconvenience to overcome).

It is in this capacity that I offer the following recollections from Jiminy's previous incarnation as two examples of Dos and Don'ts when fielding. Both took place in Hoglands Park, which for those that don't know Southampton is a large park right in the city centre, split into quarters by 2 much used diagonal paths, with cricket pitches taking up 3 of the 4 quarters. With benches lining the paths and much pedestrian "through traffic" matches played here tended to gain a bigger audience than elswhere.

So, especially for my new protogees, 2 Dos and Don'ts of Fielding

DO STAY COOL AT ALL TIMES.
John (who mus have been in his late 50s at the time) was fielding at Long On (to non cricketers that's almost directly behind the bowler right back as far as you can be on the boundary). The batsman smashed a ball straight back high over the bowler's head towards John. With a cry of "catch it!" all heads turned towards John, only to see him chatting to a passer by who was sat on one of the aforementioned benches. The other fielders stood shoulders slumped, all assuming that this was going for six. But we were forgetting John's 40 odd years of experience. He calmly put his roll-up that he was smoking behind his left ear, carefully placed the can of beer he was drinking from onto the bench, took two paces forward, caught the guy out, hurled the ball back into the middle and carried on his conversation with the spectator as if nothing had happened.To this day, still the coolest thing I have witnessed, anytime, anywhere.

DON'T EVER PANIC
This one also took place at Hoglands Park, coincidently again with the fielder (this time Jarvo) fielding at Long On. Similarly to the previous example the batsman had smashed the ball straight back over the bowlers head. Now to be fair to Jarvo, positioned a couple of yards inside the boundary by the sight screen, it was one of those horrible ones to judge. Coming straight at him, the ball held up in the wind slightly and was one of those that leaves you in two minds, either to take a few strides forward and attempt a risky catch or take a few strides back and ensure you field the ball on the bounce thus preventing a certain boundary. Amazingly Jarvo, in a moment of sheer panic, found himself not in two minds, but three and opted for the third. With the ball dropping out of the sky towards him having been hit from 50-60 yards away Jarvo simply stood his ground and volleyed the ball back from whence it came. Again, to be fair to Jarvo, it was a damned good attempt, and actually was in with a decent chance of a surprise run out had the other ten fielders, two batsmen and two umpires not all simultaneously collapsed to the ground in laughter. Jarvo spent the rest of the game claiming it was exactly what he intended to do, whilst trying not to put any weight on his right foot. A quick after-match visit to A&E revealed two bruises, one to his foot and one to his ego. To this day I find myself laughing out loud and the thought of it, and feel the need to remind Jarvo of it every time we meet.

So remember New Jiminys, a bit more of John and a bit less of Jarvo, here endeth your first coaching session of the season.

I Was There - A Great Moment In Time

Things still don't seem to be getting any better for us Saints fans. Until now that is when somebody has finally managed to upload a video of possibly our greatest ever goal. Not for quality of the goal, just for it's sense of occasion. Injury time against our "friends" from down the road, knocking them out of the FA Cup in the process a their own ground. Ironically injury time was only added for the time taken to treat Mark Dennis after their crowd momentarily took a break from hurling coins at us for the full 90 minutes and decided to aim at our players instead.

The best bit of the video is the crowd reaction to the goal. Over 8000 of us packed into that end , nowadays it's all seated of course and just 2000 have to sit sedately behind that goal (although admittedly recent visits there have given us nothing to cheer about). Match of the Day used a different camera angle of the same goal for the closing credits, I remember being able to pick myself out in the crowd, then I disappear in a mass of bodies surging probably 20 or more steps down the terraces. If ever proof was needed that all seater stadiums don't have the same atmosphere this is it - safer yes, but fun? - not any more.

Click triangle button to view, then replay over and over again

Up The Warriors

With the whole England set-up in total disarray and my own team, Southampton, acting in a pretty similar manner, it's time to give my "second favourite team" a mention.
Everyone has to have a "second favourite team" and they are often picked for the strangest of reasons, first team seen, like the kit, worked there for a while, great-grandad played for them etc etc.
Well mine is that other SFC Stenhousemuir. An obscure choice, a team forever in the lower reaches of the Scottish Leagues, but a team who's result I look for every week.

"Why them ?" I hear you ask.

It all stems from when I was a young boy in the late 60s/early 70s. Every lad my age interested in football will remember Shoot! magazine. Every year they produced a set of League Ladders similar to this one. Every team was printed on a "T" shaped tab that you pushed out of a card sheet and inserted them into the slots in their various leagues and re-arranged their positions depending on that Saturday's results. An exciting innovation for a schoolboy in the pre-computer and video game era. A printing error must have occurred because out of all of the clubs included Stenhousemuir was the only one whose tab hadn't been die-cut, I had to remove it from the card with scissors. I knew nothing about them but that was enough for their name to stick in my memory.

A couple of years later I discovered a "fascinating fact". When the main stand at Ochilview Park was built the architect forgot to put in any stairs for the supporters to gain access to the seats. This was the sort of quirkiness that I love and forever more Stenhousemuir has been the second result I look for every weekend (well just lately it's been the first, I don't need to look for Southampton's I know they will have lost).

They have done virtually nothing in all that time - promoted after finishing division 3 runners-up in the late 90s (soon to return from whence they came) and winning a couple of obscure cup competitions in the same decade . There have been plenty of seasons when promotion has looked a mere formality only for them to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory with a (one wonders if it is deliberate it happens so often) late season slump.

One day I hope to visit Scotland and take in a game. With crowds usually well under 1000 you can hardly get more back to grass roots than that. In the meantime I'll continue keeping an eye on their results, today they are at home to the mighty Forfar Athletic.

Come On You Warriors !

We're On Our Way To Wembley

(click picture to enlarge)

I thought this picture was lost for ever, but I found it during a rummage through the attic today.

This was from the front page of the local (as it was called then) Southampton Evening Echo on 1st May 1976.(I am now reliably informed that the photo was in fact from our trip to the semi-final, see comments section) No Southampton fan will need reminding what that day was, it was the day the Saints went to Wembley as huge outsiders and won the FA Cup, beating the mighty Manchester United 1-0 (Bobby Stokes 83rd minute God rest his soul).

I went on a coach organised by the Running Horse (later to be renamed Wig & Pen ) pub, which was situated up an alleyway next to the Echo Office. (Both the pub and the Echo Office are long gone, demolished to make way for the soulless West Quay Shopping Centre). Clearly the photographer hadn't intended too travel to far to find a subject for his photo. Although by the time he took it we were probably the only fans left in town - apparently our coach had broken down en route to picking us up and a replacement was frantically being sought - not easy on a day when virtually every coach south of London had already been commandeered. But eventually one turned up and we were on our way.

I have very few memories of the game itself, apart from our goal and the last 7 minutes (which seemed like 7 lifetimes). I do remember Man Utd hitting the woodwork from only a few yards out on about the 60 minute mark and just knowing then that it was going to be our day. Worryingly (it was to a sober 14 year old anyway) the stadium terracing - I was upper tier behind the goal - was literally bouncing like a trampoline for the final few minutes of the game.

I have clearer memories of the journey there and back than the match.
Like about 40 desperate men exiting the coach in a traffic jam to relieve themselves against a garden fence, just after the last had finished an extremely snobbish looking woman in a fur coat, nose in the air and walking a poodle had to negotiate 40 rivers of piss streaming across the pavement.
Being able to jump off the coach before it had got out of the Wembley coach park and buy an Evening Standard with the match report in it - (whether that was a reflection on the speed of the printers or the slowness of the Wembley traffic I'm not sure).
Travelling up to London every bridge on the M3 (was it a motorway back then? it might even have been the A33) being covered with banners and waving fans, and the same bridges on the way back with the same banners but around ten times the number of happy cheering fans.
Getting back off the coach in the centre of Southampton to find the whole City Centre had turned into a party zone. I wasn't around for the war but any film clips I have seen of V.E. Day had nothing on that evening !.
Two men - they're in the photo - playing banjos all the way there to get the coach singing. Along with the lack of replica shirts (unheard of in those days) the photo is a great example of how following football has changed over the years - and not necessarily for the better.

And I suppose I had better own up, I'm the one far right front row, split in half on the edge of the photo. Did I really dress and have hair like that ?!?!?!

Found One !!!

I went out of the back gate today and there lying on the pavement was an eighteen inch long slightly scorched stick in otherwise pristine condition.

Yep. I've found my first "back down to earth" rocket stick of the year.

As kids, the competition to see who could find the most spent fireworks on the morning of November 6th was often more exciting than the big night itself. The bigger the better. And today's stick would have been worth at least 5 points. It's a shame that bonfire "night" nowadays seems to be bonfire "fortnight" but it means I have a couple more weeks to score as many points as I can.

Netley Sports Cricket Club

Netley Sports Cricket Club, originally uploaded by Wurzel.

My Dad brought in this old press cutting the other day. It was from, (we think) 1970 when Netley Sports CC had just won the Southampton Parks Cricket League for the 4th consecutive time. I remember all the faces in the photo although sadly three, to my knowledge, have since passed on.

It was around that time that I was allowed to start making up the numbers when they were short, even though was only 8. When I say making up the numbers, I was allowed to field at third man every over - anyone au fait with fielding positions will know what a pain that must have been.

It was only a few years later that I was allowed to bowl the odd over, and one game took 5 for 5 !!! (figures I've never bettered since). As we came off the umpire told me that I could have got a couple of l.b.w. decisions as well - I didn't tell him I had been too shy to appeal.

I enjoyed some great times playing in that league, the best, for those that know Southampton, were played in Hoglands Park where there was never any shortage of spectators.

The Southampton Evening Cricket League is one of the oldest cricket leagues in the country. In it's heyday it had over 70 teams playing every week. Sadly now the numbers are reduced to just 26, a reflection on a combination of lack of youngsters coming through schools cricket and the state of local pitches due to lack of council funding to maintain them.

Long Hot Summer

On 1st May 1976 two memorable things happened.

1) Saints won the FA Cup for the first (and so far only) time.

2) The sun came out



Actually the sun coming out wasn't memorable at the time, it was only 4 and a half months later when it went away again that it had become memorable.

That was a GREAT summer. Hardly a cloud in the sky. Temperatures reached more than boiling. Every day! Rivers steamed. Car became the new barbeques with eggs being fried on the bonnets and sunday roasts being cooked in the boot (thats hoods and trunks for any American readers) . Roads melted. Lawns looked like earthquake zones. Cricket (American readers imagine a game of baseball, organised around meal breaks, for almost a week) test matches (which according to the rules HAVE to be delayed at some point during the 5 days) were delayed when umpires melted. Even night times were too warm because even the moon was hotter than usual. *

Throughout the previous winter and spring we had helped my Dad build a swimming pool in the back garden, 4ft deep 20ft diameter. Perfect timing or what ? In the build up to that years summer holidays I was rapidly becoming Mr Popular at school. One weekend we counted 41 family friends and relatives who all "just happened" to "pop round" and, by amazing coincidence, all "just happened" to have towels and swimmys with them.

The summer dragged on and on, until we were back at school. Mid -September came and I went on a weekend field trip to Fairthorne Manor, which included a number of outdoor activities including, on the evening we arrived , orienteering . None of us had thought to pack waterproofs, no-one had even seen a cloud since April. Half way through our map-following mission the heavens opened with a vengeance. 6 inches of rain in 30 minutes. Soaked to the skin, and only summer clothes to last the weekend. Still, we were kids, we enjoyed it.

Today is the 3rd of May. It's already been sunny for at least 10 days now and no sign of letting up. Could 76 be repeated again? If it lasts until September again have some waterproofs ready - you've been warned.


Climate change ? - my arse !

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*Disclaimer: This article has been written with the aid of selective memory. The author accepts no responsibility for any errors in statistics quoted, nor errors in accuracy of descriptions of events.

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A Trip Down Memory Lane - Who Are We ?

My daughter yesterday presented me with the following, which she found whilst tidying her room.


It brought back memories, I had forgotten all about them.

"What is it?" I hear you ask, - well when I say "hear" I am speaking metaphorically, obviously you are miles away (unless you are the so far unlocated neighbour who keeps logging in to my unsecured wireless connection) - or unless of course you manage to say "What is it?" very very loudly.

It's an Old Codgers calling card.

Calling cards were very fashionable amongst "crews" with a passion for football violence, often left on the prostrate body of a victim so that he had the small satisfaction of knowing who it was that jumped him unexpectedly and beat the living daylights out of him.

But the Old Codgers were different.

They were not interested in violence, ( actually it was discussed regularly, I guess for "not interested" read "no longer capable"). Eating cakes was more their style. And although a few members were happy to indulge in a pint or two (or seven) to give them dutch courage before a "meet" (and scarily enough most of those were the women), most were happy with a good old cup of tea.

Most of the arrangements took place on that new fangled interweb thing. Unbeknown to them these discussions had been infiltrated by the Old Bill (or Young Bill as most referred to them). After one particular session of pre-match online bravado before a home tie against their biggest enemy P****mouth (well second biggest enemy, incontinence being the first), half of Hampshire Constabulary stood by red faced, realising that this time the Football Intelligence Unit had belied it's middle name as they watched a couple of dozen old ( and not so old) men and women tucking into croissants and cream cakes at a local patisserie.

They were very vocal at games, with a great repertoire of songs, which unfortunately tended to fade away early as few could remember all the words. They loved a good old knees up as well, although bringing the knees back down again proved difficult for some.

They often travelled to away games en masse , OAP Rail Cards and/or bus passes enabling cheap travel. They showed no fear of being in a strange town, their breakfast time "taking" of Debenhams Cafeteria in Manchester City Centre back innJanuary 2004 is still discussed in hushed tones today.

Calling cards were left in numerous locations, if anyone has found one I hope it has been treasured, these will be worth a fortune on the Antiques Roadshow one day. They also had a flag to rally behind, although that was last seen on the platform of Southampton Central as their train headed for P****mouth - remembering which train to catch and and to collect all ones belongings proved simply too difficult for some.

Nowadays the Old Codgers are like a sleeping giant, keeping their heads down and resting to avoid any further Police interest in their activities (being very easy to catch nowadays with a likelihood that any resulting sentence would effectively mean a life sentence), but eagerly awaiting the call. And with the "Yoof" currently filling their void, showing respect for no-one and being unable to sing a song with a proper tune, the Phoenix may be rising from the ashes sooner than expected.

Hello, Hello we are the Codgers Crew .........