Patrimoine

Patrimoine (nm):  ensemble des biens reçus en héritage 

For a long time, both discourse analysis and literary studies have focused on those narratives that define and confirm the culture from which they spring. It should of course be remembered, and become clear during the course of this piece, that the discourse being analysed does not necessarily exist because of any notion of creativity or imagination in the sense of a literary or authored text, in whatever way we seek to define authorship or authorial intent, but may be actually a series of real life events that have been recorded, refracted and responded to in myriad ways that change and are affected not in terms of the topographical or temporal distance any “reader,” in the sense of the physical location of the interpreter of said events, has from the analysed discourse itself (which has de facto become a text, through unbidden analyses, because of the plurality of interpretations visited upon the discourse), but because of the emotional proximity or indeed distance, whether accidental or intentional, of any reader.

However, what any movement to study the narratives and counter-narratives of the events that took place at Wigan Soccerdome around 2.30pm on Sunday 17^th March 2013 has revealed and is continuing to reveal is exactly what should have been obvious to those who sought to impose an irrefutable fixed meaning on both the physical events, their significance and the subsequent response of the whole panoply of seemingly interested and/or involved parties: there has always been a reactionary element to the discourse analysis of certain competing narrators and the methodologies employed by such critics has resulted in their appropriation of an especially potent reactionary and illiberal brand of both textual and cultural analysis. The logical conclusion to such lines of thought is, of course, that traditional, dirigistic, critical narratives all too readily provide a logocentric, intellectual and cultural validity to the economic and political ambitions of both capitalism and the attendant forces of repression, whose unquestioned analysis of the textual narrative and signification, provides no outlet for alternate readings of the events of 17^th March. Rejecting nuanced critiques of the discourse of 17^th  March, which anecdotally appears to be a more prevalent approach than addressing the subtleties of non-traditional discourse analysis, ensures the hegemony of influentially powerful discourse narratives, which may not often be blessed with instrumental power, but are able to create a monocultural, false consciousness through the public utterances of their defenders and supporters, despite the efforts of the  unempowered critics to confront the complicity of unambiguous advocates of the established discourse analysis machine. In terms of Newcastle United, it seems that certain elements, while attiring themselves in the robes of radicalism, are happiest when acting as the apologists for the forces of reaction and repression by doing unbidden the offices of the state, when voluntarily informing on their fellow supporters to the police. Is this acceptable?

The events of 17th March were not the re-enactment of the Watts Riots of 1965. It was not even the grandchildren of May 1968 in Paris or Prague. This was a load of pissed teenagers stealing corner flags and I didn’t like it much. Would I have invaded the pitch during the Wigan Cosmos v Leigh Centurions game? Aged 48; no. Aged 48 and pissed; no. Aged 18 in 1983; no. Aged 18 in 1983 and pissed; no. Would my 17 year old son have invaded the pitch in 2013, pissed or sober? No. Why? Because he’s got more sense and because I respect the integrity and the perfection of football too much to besmirch the honour of the sport. Every single game of football, from a World Cup final to a wooden spoon contest in Division 4 of the North East Over 40s League, has the right to be honoured and respected, because it has encapsulated both the passion and the emotional attachment of all those taking part and, lest we forget, all those watching.  Do I condemn those who invaded the pitch, pissed and young though they were? Oh absolutely and in the most profane, intemperate terms possible.

However, would I condemn those foolish young lads who ran on that pitch in public to the wider world than the Newcastle United family? Not a chance. Would I involve myself in cyber vigilantism by attempting to find out the identities of those daft, pissed kids involved so that they could have the pleasure of a 7am visit from Northumbria Police and at best a harrowing haranguing and at worst a Public Order Offence caution or conviction? You have got to be joking. The idea of being complicit in an orchestrated campaign to create a raft of criminal records for Newcastle United fans barely old enough to shave appals me at an elemental level. Newcastle United fans are a family; we should keep parental duties in house. It may mean praise; it may mean scolding. It does not mean disporting ourselves, as supporters of Newcastle United, at the feet of the organisation greatly responsible for Orgreave and Hillsborough. 

Collusion with the police is not akin to Alice Walker responding to criticism of her portrayal of black men in The Color Purple by saying her first duty in the production of a text (what some may call "authorship") was as a woman, then as a lesbian and then as a black woman. Collusion with the police over the events of 17th March by any Newcastle United fan is collaboration. We may have rightly dispensed with the tar and feathers, but the shaven head mark of the quisling is a powerful image, even if it has a genetic cause and is hidden beneath a hat indoors.

These kids who disrupted this game weren’t just pissed; they were disrespectful to the game and that is bad. Very bad. However, in mitigation, they are the logical, incarnate conclusion of the Sky TV generation. To them, football is all about the Premier League, where the only time they step outside that anodyne bubble is to opt for Barca or Real when La Liga is on Sky. It isn’t their fault; they know no better. In the most part, they prefer to play FIFA on their lap tops than get hacky dirty each Sunday morning, on a proper pitch with a real ball, which is why they don’t understand this wonderful game of ours. Fundamentally though, that isn’t the fault of the bairns for, as Philip Larkin said -:

They fuck you up, your mum and dad.  

    They may not mean to, but they do.  

They fill you with the faults they had

    And add some extra, just for you.

These drunken hobbledehoys in their Toms and Quicksilver hoodies are the deracinated progeny of those atrichous Donnay clad bores, who sit in chain pubs of a Saturday afternoon, affecting an interest in Everton v Stoke, while necking Carling as the grassroots game, which is in magnificent health on the pitch in our region, dies a lingering, unloved death. I blame the parents, I really do. Instead of encountering the rime and Graupel showers of late March at Hillheads, Blue Flames or Sam Smiths Park, they sit in their Jacomo polo shirts and Nike trainers and baseball caps, griping at another sub-standard England display. Well, listen mate, if you thought that was shoddy; you ought to have seen Whickham v Ryton, because then you’d really know what dross is.

Now, if I can have your confidence in this,  I don’t know what’s worse; wannabe tough guys in their sixth decade, who shoot their thousand yard stares up and down Pink Lane, pretend they want Newcastle United to be the Millwall of the north and complain when the wealthy curled darlings of our nation act like cocks when they’re full of supper and distempering draughts, or those insecure kidults in rap / metal crossover hats indoors as if it’s 1993, surrounding themselves with toadying intellectual pygmies, like they’re big fish surrounded by pond life because they can’t take a word of criticism. Frankly, I just don’t know. When it comes to Danny Kieron Dyer facing off with Tim Lovejoy-Westwood, I’m just glad I’m Ed Tom Yeats.

And then I woke up.

(This is the first blog I’ve written when drunk, which is why I’m not discussing our injury situation in advance of the Manchester City away game, or the impending departure of media personality and erstwhile goalkeeper Steve Harper from NUFC. As a wise man with a lot of bouncy hair pointed out; if Harper had a testimonial, he’d let Krul play the first half and Elliot the second, just so he could commentate on it for Radio Newcastle.)

St Patrick's Day Massacre

Way back on March 17th 1984, Newcastle continued their promotion charge with a 3-1 thumping of Middlesbrough at SJP, courtesy of goals by Keegan, Beardsley and an outrageous effort by Terry McDermott. That night I, and a couple of hundred others who’d been in fine singing voice, were requested to leave a University of Ulster GAA function at the Edgewater Hotel in Portstewart, co. Derry at gunpoint by a posse of gate-crashers, composed entirely of unsmiling RUC and UDR officers. The weekend just gone wasn’t quite as momentous as that day, but it did make its way to second place in the Memorable Paddy’s Day Stakes ahead of 1990s fairly timid 2-1 win over Ipswich followed by a House of Love gig at the University. I wonder if Wedding Present frontman David Gedge pondered during his Twitter-advertised mini-break to Rouen in Normandie that Rue du Massacre, supposed site of the execution of La Pucelle d’Orleans, Jeanne d’Arc, would be a good name for the street leading to the DW Stadium in Wigan?

This year’s St. Patrick’s Day weekend started off badly with the realisation that my inability to access the goalless draw between Limerick and Cork that heralded the start of the 2013 League of Ireland season the Sunday before on www.rte.ie, which had forced me to tune in to the Manchester United and Chelsea FA Cup 6^th round tie on returning home from the Stoke game, was no fluke. Being similarly blocked from seeing Shamrock Rovers v St. Patrick’s Athletic on Friday night, I emailed de telly to query what was happening and received a Donnybrook unfair response, saying that for this season League of Ireland games will only be available on-line in the 26 Counties; quite where this leaves supporters of Derry City I do not know.

It’s a difficult time for many supporters of League of Ireland clubs. Mick Wallace, fresh from offering sage advice on moral probity and rectitude in public office to Ming Flanagan, in the wake of the latter’s disappearing motoring offence endorsements, which seems to me to be, rather than incipient corruption or culchie back-scratching, yet another State-condoned Black Op intended to discredit socially progressive independents in the Dail in the hope of getting more Blue Shirts or (most likely) Dev’s Diehards back there after the next election, has to deal with the desperate news that Wexford Youths sit at the foot of Division 1, having lost all their games so far. Let’s just hope Clare Daly stands by her man better than she stood by her principles.

A couple of fellas who don’t deserve anyone to stand by them are Declan Kidney and Giovanni Trappatoni, who it appears have swapped jobs, if the final Six Nations fixture is anything to go by. It seems to be true that it’s supporters of Newcastle United and Ireland who have most to fear from the International Break; the former because of the timing of Ashley’s regular outrages against the club and the latter because of the awful nature of Ireland’s form of late. The irony is that Trappatoni, a bloke who has done less for Ireland than Oliver Cromwell did, celebrates his birthday on March 17^th.

Away from Paddy’s Green Shamrock Shore, being  left with no alternative, I kept abreast of Bohemians’ late loss away to Cork City, after taking the lead on Twitter, watched in ever deepening pools of stagnant depression as Hibernian contrived to not only throw away the lead at Fir Park, but to concede 4 unanswered goals in the second half against Motherwell, whilst remaining engaged in a fruitless 90 minute phone conversation with Barclays customer services about the delayed refund of £200 wrongly debited from my account from a faulty ATM transaction a fortnight previous. In some ways, I wished I’d spent my Friday evening in Tup Tup Palace with Tim Krul (or so it was reported to me), as I’ve had better nights I must admit.

The night previous when Newcastle progressed to the quarter finals of the Europa League was one of them, despite Hatem Ben Arfa being seemingly ruled out for the rest of the season on the Thursday afternoon.  Without doubt, the two best atmospheres I’ve encountered at SJP this season, not having attended the Chelsea victory, were the Bordeaux and Anzhi games, both of which I saw from the Gallowgate middle. I have to agree with my cynical 17 year old who tweeted; “it’s hard for me to admit, but Steven Taylor has been brilliant.” Fistpumps was a true hero in this game and deserves his England call-up on the back of some great form following his latest return from injury, but let’s hope he escapes undamaged from this adventure against whoever Hodgson’s lot are playing. However, again it was a superb pass from the outstanding Sylvain Marveaux that gave Cisse the opportunity to win the game for us. In over 40 years of watching football, I can truthfully say I’ve never seen a game won with the final touch, until this one. With the officials unwilling to organise a restart, I was initially confused whether the goal had been disallowed for some reason.

When it became clear the goal stood, my first thoughts were of the fixture changes that our progression to the last 8 entail; Fulham and the mackems will now both be on a Sunday. I’ll definitely be at the Cottagers, but it seems unlikely I’ll be able to break my self-imposed exile against the Unwashed, for reasons almost entirely to do with cowardice. As an eternal pessimist, I am unwilling to see us lose to them again in my lifetime. Preparing for the worst, I have already began the mental process of rehearsing just how it would feel if Danny Graham scores the winner on April 14^th. Suffice to say, it makes for grim thinking, unless Europa League progress has been assured. All you can do is face the future with resolute fortitude and try to be positive. In the quarter finals we’ve drawn Benfica; I love Portugal and I’d love to go, but as a non-season ticket holder, getting in to the game looks difficult. Indeed, I won’t even get to see it on the telly or even be at the home leg either (fair play to the club for £15 tickets for this one; they might not get much right, but this decision deserves applause), as my non-league responsibilities and sensibilities require me to be at Hillheads on both occasions, as Whitley Bay host Dunston UTS and Spennymoor Town respectively, in a pair of very enticing Northern League fixtures. Or so I’m telling myself…

While post-match discussions on Thursday centred on potential European opposition, pre-match debate saw Nile Ranger under the microscope yet again, following his arrest for assault on Wednesday 13^th March. In court on Friday 15^th, Ranger pleaded guilty and the case has been adjourned; consequently, as it is sub-judice, I’ll not comment on the legal process. However, I will say that it becomes ever more apparent to me that my suspicions of institutional racism creating the kind of prejudicial attitudes to Nile Ranger among an element of our support have been confirmed unequivocally. As I say, the details of Ranger’s latest wranglings are yet to be revealed in public, but I will say the poor bloke is now a target for every shaven-headed, Donnay-clad, wannabe hard man from Gosforth to Birtley and back again. Unless Ranger moves away from the North East, I can see him suffering endless provocation and taunting from people who should know better.

The fact is Nile Ranger’s attitude that upsets the furrowed-browed fools has too much in common with Malcolm X, Huey Newton or Chuck D for such implacable critics; perhaps they’d not be as predictably outraged by Ranger if he affected more of a Kenny Lynch, Flavor Flav or Sammy Davis Jr persona.  I fervently wish Nile Ranger all the best for the future. Surely former WRP theoretician Chris Hughton must be prepared to give Nile a chance? After all, he’s got to be a preferable option up front for the Canaries than Tory lickspittle Constable Holt, who really ought to have won them the game at SoS on St. Patrick’s Day, which would have at least have provided us with a modicum of comfort on a lousy day that put the tin hat on a really lousy weekend. Là 'le Pádraig shona dhuit; my arse!

We take it as read that any Newcastle defeat will be accompanied by a meltdown on Twitter by those stuck at the cognitive, developmental level of those who still need to leave a light on at bed time, but the bar was well and truly raised  during the Wigan game with statements, made by the kind of people who regard Tiger Tiger as a defensible leisure option, that Cisse, Marveaux, Santon, Sissoko and Tiote were, at various times in the proceedings, categorised as being “shit.” Why I waste my time validating the worthless opinions of the cretins who say things like that still troubles me; that said, there are the undeniable and unpalatable facts to face that our performance at the DW Stadium was simply not acceptable and that our away form is deplorable and in need of serious attention, but as it’s citeh away next you can scrub that thought.

Sunday’s loss shows the fine margins at play in the lower half of the table; while Fulham’s surprising win at Spurs puts them clear in 10^th, everything else was set up for Newcastle to move to the top of the bottom. A win, which could have happened if Cisse’s 88^th minute effort had not been deflected wide, would have put us 12 points clear of danger, while the draw we’d seemingly earned would have left us with a 9 point cushion. Sadly, their winner leaves us back in trouble; 6 points clear, Wigan with a game in hand and, as has already been stated, citeh away next. This, as well as an injury list that already included Cabaye, HBA and Krul but now includes Debuchy, seems to have been overlooked in the wake of the outrageous outcome on Sunday. We won’t even begin to think about Santon’s thigh problem that cut short his stint with the Italian Under 21 squad just yet.  Haidara’s injury is appalling, but it should not be allowed to mask the fact that Newcastle United, who I’d naively assumed would not only want to put right last season’s crushing loss, but would be on a high after Thursday evening’s dramatic outcome and be ready to take Wigan by the throat, played poorly at Wigan and barely deserved a draw.

These days, I tend to pride myself on having a sense of perspective on Newcastle United’s fortunes that has been misinterpreted by zealots from Euskal Herria as “detached, bourgeois chin stroking.” However, I was so furious on Sunday night that I struggled to get to sleep. It was all so bloody unfair. The most eloquent analysis of the whole day was a tweet by @2narme we're Newcastle fans, we're used to getting beat. It's nowt. Feeling cheated is hard to get used to. That summarises the whole, sorry day for me; while it’s absolutely appalling that the frustration of some of our lot caused Mark Halsey to receive abusive comments, hoping his cancer would return, the fact is that Halsey’s performance at Wigan will go down in NUFC folklore in the way that the name Trelford Mills, who Halsey appeared to be impersonating in the manner of Jarrow Elvis reinterpreting the King, has. Brighton 1983 may not have been exceeded by Wigan 2013, but it has been matched.

 

 

Callum McManaman is a snide little bastard; his tackle on Haidara was a deliberate attempt to injure a fine young player, regardless of what errant nonsense was offered in terms of explanation or justification, though never as an apology, by the mealy-mouthed Martinez, the arch hypocrite Whelan (who bores the Wigan support to tears with stories of his career-ending leg break in the 1960 FA Cup final on a daily basis) who allowed his personal enmity with Ashley to cloud his judgement, or the weasel-words of the FA disciplinary committee, hiding behind procedure and regulation in the most shameful manner possible. Again, some measure of approval should be granted towards Derek Llambias, who produced a cogent, reasoned and articulate response to the FA’s Pontius Pilate meets Nuremburg Defence non-decision. However, all you need to know about the FA is that they’ve already rushed to offer that squalid, parasitical, equinophilic helicopter collector Michael Owen an ambassadorial role following the announcement of his impending retirement from the game. This surprised NUFC fans who had assumed Owen quit the game in 2005 when he signed for us.

McManaman should be banned, but he won’t; nor  will I laugh if someone seriously injures the vile shithead in his next game. Despite a single depressing trip to Wigan in 2005, when we were robbed of a draw by a linesman (Andy Williams was his name; never forgive, never forget) failing to spot Shearer’s header had gone over the line, I had wanted them to win the FA Cup this year, as well as staying up. While I still hope they stay up ahead of the even more loathsome Villa, I’ll be rooting for Millwall in the FA Cup semi-final now.

In retrospect, the best thing to come out of Sunday was Alan Pardew’s superb, dignified post-match interview. His temperate words suggest he has learned how to keep his passion in check and that makes me feel optimistic for the rest of the season; he’ll do OK for us in the short and the long term. In contrast, while initially it seemed John Carver’s explosion with McManaman was a praiseworthy act, sober reflection tells me it was the kind of behaviour one could expect of a fan and not a club official. I’m not saying it was totally unprofessional, as has been suggested by mischief makers of the Fourth Estate, but Carver would have been better off in the dressing room as soon as the whistle went, doing the job for which he’s paid, namely addressing the causes of our poor first half performance and doing his best to put it right after the break. Perhaps he could then have knocked McManaman out at full time, on the basis of a job well done.  If he had, would those who are so quick to condemn Nile Ranger’s conduct have rushed to upbraid him?

Unpublished 7: Around the Grounds 16/03/2013

Originally, the Northern Alliance fixtures said Percy Main v Carlisle City on March 16th. Then it was changed to Shankhouse at home, so I wrote this article for the programme. The day after, we were informed our fixture would actually be Killingworth away, where we drew 3-3 in a blinding game. Consequently, this piece didn't get used as the programme wasn't printed. Hope you enjoy my fruitless labours.

Last Saturday’s NFA Benevolent Bowl semi-final may have been a thrilling spectacle for all those when were lucky enough to witness it, but that is of no real consequence to our heroic but bitterly disappointed Percy warriors who tasted defeat, for all their herculean efforts. However, while  our opponents today were inactive on account of the weather, second top Carlisle City also fell victims to a home defeat, when Seaton Delaval Amateurs left The Sheepmount with a 2-0 victory under their belts, moving themselves up to sixth place in the process. Kevin Westphal and Cameron Patrick netted late on for Delaval. In the only other Premier Division game to beat the terrible weather, the top versus bottom clash went with form, as Amble United demolished Rutherford 10-1. Hit-man Josh Hay grabbed five, while Matty Graham, Brent Aisbitt, Derek Atwell, Rikki Hume and an own goal made up the Seasider’s tally as they bounced back from two recent defeats. Walker Central took a break from their league campaign to overcome second division New Fordley 3-2 in the second round of the Bill Gardner Memorial Trophy, booking themselves a semi-final place in the process. Central grabbed the lead in the opening minute as Nkuriza “Drogs” Suaibu fired home but a double from Ben Davison flipped the game on its head. Dan Quine levelled before the break and the game was deep into stoppage time when Kris Carr grabbed the winner; 3 Main old boys on target in that one, which took place on the 4G surface at the Lightfoot Stadium and was one of several fixtures, changed to synthetic surfaces at unfamiliar venues.

In Division 1, Red House Farm switched their home game with Bedlington Terriers Reserves to the Excelsior Academy, which used to be the old West Denton High School, being rewarded with a 3-0 win, courtesy of goals by Dale Pearson, Marty Soulsby and Lee Brady, that puts them in 5^th place and leaves Bedlington two spots behind them. The other game to take place in that division was in Cumbria, which is fast becoming the Sahara of the Northern Alliance. Northbank moved up to third, with a 4-1 hammering of fourth bottom Cullercoats, courtesy of a Cameron Wilson hat-trick helped. Lee MacDermott got the other while Sean Smith notched for Cullercoats.  In the only Division 2 game to take place, at Monkseaton High School on astroturf, High Howdon’s Kyle Austin grabbed the winner in their clash with Alnwick Town Reserves, putting the sides tenth and eighth respectively.

The Northern League was also decimated by the terrible weather, with 7 games surviving, though Shildon did well to win their FA Vase 6^th round replay 4-1 at Ascot, booking themselves a place in the last 4. In Division 1, Team Northumbria lost an entertaining clash 3-2 away to Billingham Synthonia, whose Central Avenue pitch was pronounced to be in “immaculate condition.” All those airborne Teesside chemicals are good for playing surfaces if nothing else, evidently. Durham City defeated West auckloand 3-1 on their artificial pitch, with the goals being scored by the aptly named Winter. In Division 2, North Shields saw their promotion charge checked by lowly Alnwick Town, who held the Robins to a 2-2 draw.

Gateshead remain beset by problems with the International Stadium’s pitch, but they continued their push away from danger and attendant itinerant wanderings with a 3-0 win over Hyde at Blyth Spartans’s Croft Park, which is a bit like Rangers using Parkhead I suppose. Spartans themselves were inactive as their game at Nantwich was washed out.

Stakhanovite Movement

I would imagine all true fans of Newcastle United will join with me in applauding the moment the other week when the absolute worst player on the club’s books was drummed out of the club. After endless last chances and repeated false dawns, the sight of this smug, arrogant, under-achieving egotist ineffectually preening on the pitch as he somehow wangled a few desperate minutes as a substitute, during which he contributed the square route of jack shit, sickened me to the depths of my soul. Frankly, whatever happens next, I will take no interest in his fate, as he is now a non-person to me.

Anyway, enough about Shane Ferguson’s loan move to Birmingham City, what else has been happening on Barrack Road of late? Well, Nile Ranger’s contract has been cancelled “by mutual agreement,” which caused waves of approval to flood across the inert coastal plain of social media. These shallow, portentous, grammatically incorrect screeds of judgment were mainly penned by the very sorts who despise Ranger because of his off field conduct, but at the same time and without any sense of irony, want Andy Carroll back at SJP, unquestioningly supported Joey Barton during his time on Tyneside, welcomed Lee Bowyer and Jonathon Woodgate to the club while demanding everyone let bygones be bygones and excused Paul Gascoigne’s propensity towards domestic violence as the lies of a gold digger. To coin a phrase; what’s all that about?

To me, the root cause of such abuse is potentially the lingering effects of a kind of pernicious, unconscious, institutional racism the writers were exposed to at a young age, whereby the fact that Ranger is young, black, muscular, rich and a Londoner pushes all the stereotypical buttons that the media and society constructed in the 70s, when the ageing anti Ranger ranters still had a head of hair. I don’t for one second think these people are actually xenophobic; their affection for players such as Sissoko and Yanga-Mbiwa, who combine dazzling skill with an air of exotic mystery, is both profound and genuine. However, I do wonder whether the contempt that the Ameobis and Ranger endure, and Titus Bramble suffered before that (though he was a frighteningly bad footballer) has anything to do with the lingering effects of Powellian rhetoric on those who abuse them. Either that or they’re jealous of Ranger’s money, physique or hairstyle. One wonders just what sort of opprobrium James McClean would endure for his musical tastes if he were to grow tired of playing for a club whose supporters, in an unconscious tribute to Monty Python vie to win a food hamper containing £50 of Spam in a competition run by the sunlun ekkow and sign for Newcastle United…

Twitter may have told us innumerable untruths about Nile Ranger, but it also managed an equal number of preposterous accusations after the unlucky 1-0 loss against Swansea. Thirty years previously, I’d been on the Moordale coaches to Burnley and seen us lose 1-0 to an 83^rd minute goal after missing half a dozen gilt-edged opportunities; so it was on this occasion in South Wales. Back in the day during the aftermath of defeat, I alternated between dozing, reading the programme I always used to buy in my callow youth and dreaming how good my first pint of Ex in The Hotspur would taste. In 2013, I was able to discern, via Twitter of course, that the Swansea loss demonstrated Elliot and Santon are both “shit” and that a large percentage of our supporters handle defeat in the same way an over tired toddler handles a late night.

In all seriousness, it is a tragic waste of talent that sees Ranger without either a Premier league goal or a club to his name at this time in his life. He needs to take a leaf out of the book of one Francisco Jimenez Tejada, who has also left Newcastle United after 5 glittering seasons, to ply his trade in the Spanish second division with Cordoba, who announced his arrival thus -:

Xisco jugará en el Córdoba C.F. hasta el final de la presente temporada. Francisco Jiménez Tejada, Xisco, (Santa Ponça, 26 de junio de 1986) jugará en el Córdoba C.F. hasta el final de temporada después de rescindir su contrato con el Newcastle United. Tras forjarse en las categorías inferiores del Club Atlético Baleares, firmó en 2003 por el Real Club Deportivo de la Coruña para formar parte de su cantera. Xisco debutó con el primer equipo coruñés el 26 de abril de 2006 ante la Real Sociedad. Ese mismo año anotó -el 15 de mayo- los dos goles de su equipo frente al Real Zaragoza. Sus dos primeros tantos en la élite. En la siguiente temporada el jugador fue cedido a la UD Vecindario  (Segunda división), donde consiguió 13 tantos en 27 partidos antes de regresar en  la campaña 2007-08 al Deportivo. Ese año Xisco fue el máximo goleador del equipo gallego con 9 dianas, lo que le permitió firmar por el Newcastle United. Durante su estancia en el conjunto británico fue cedido primero al Real Racing de Santander y luego, ya en la pasada 2011-2012, al Deportivo de la Coruña, equipo con el que anotó el 2-1 ante la S.D. Huesca que permitió a los albiazules regresar a Primera división.

Excitingly, Xisco scored his first goal for Cordoba last weekend against Barcelona B; they lost 4-3, but at least Xisco wants to play for his team. I wonder whether we can say the same of those currently out of the first team picture at SJP. The disappearance of Captain Colo with apparently 2 broken bones in his back after a routine overhead kick versus Southampton, which may mean we’ve seen the last of him as a Newcastle United player seems as suspicious to me; luckily Yanga-Mbiwa and Steven Taylor, despite his embarrassing histrionics towards Begovic before Cabaye’s sublime equalizer in the Stoke game, have played superbly so far. Equally suspicious, though equally propitious, is the injury that kept Steve Harper off the bench in the early part of Krul’s convalescence. How on earth did Harper get injured? Unless of course, he’s still got a stiff neck after watching Cleverley’s mishit punt fly over his head in his last first team appearance last October. The great news, of course, is that it has allowed Rob Elliot to so admirably step up to the plate. He may be light years behind Krul as a shot stopper, but he’s an able deputy and his distribution is significantly better than the Dutchman’s aimless hoofs in to the ionosphere.  

Elsewhere in the team, eyebrows were raised when Cisse was not even on the plane to Moscow as he was apparently unwell. Perhaps he was another of the reported 250+ cases of food poisoning recorded after the Street Spice gourmet festival in Times Square the other weekend? It would explain his lethargic showing against Stoke I suppose, though would not excuse the 90 minutes of abuse meted out by the replica shirted goon who was next to me in my unfamiliar spot in the Milburn Paddock towards the Gallowgate last Sunday. In contrast, there was little debate when Shola didn’t make the starting XI for the game against Anji (or the bench against the Potters, which probably kept Cisse on and indirectly won us the 3 points), even though this meant we’d be playing an unfamiliar 4-6-0 formation.

I can’t even face trying to analyse whether Hatem Ben Arfa was the false 9 last Thursday, as I got home well after kick off after cycling in to the teeth of an unyielding breeze the whole length of the Coast Road; indeed the first action I saw was of Willian apparently impersonating James Brown in his defining version of Please Please Please, being led from the pitch in tears and a pashmina (one for the grammarians there).  I did notice that the difference between ESPN and ITV was that the quality of commentary by Beglin and Drury demonstrated a gear shift in quality from the relentlessly banal to the tediously inane.

 

As regards the game and the tactics employed by Newcastle, what I can say is that Haidara and Yanga-Mbiwa were colossi, that if Ben Arfa been match fit, he’d had won the game, that it was no surprise he wasn’t involved against Stoke (regardless of what the on-line conspiracy theorists have to say) and that, dangerous though it is to even think this the day before Anji come calling, I suspect Pardew is back to being a tactical genius again, even if the first half against the Potters saw us out-Stoke Pulis’s loathsome team. I must admit that we were brilliant in the second half; Tiote put one foot wrong the whole game (and a bloody big error it was too) by giving them the penalty that was their only shot, but for the third Premier League home game in a row, we came back from being behind to win the game. The upturn wasn’t just hard graft though; it was inspired substitutions and a sublime pass by Marveaux, second only this season to Cisse’s lay off to Gouffran for the equaliser versus Chelsea, which got us where we needed to be. That shows true grit and determination. Incidentally, I’m not sure about Pardew’s beard, as it looks like he’s been back-packing around Thailand during his gap year; sort it out please.

 

 

The effort the whole team put in to getting that 0-0 in the Lenin Stadium, as well as the win over Stoke on the Sunday, would have made Comrade Ulyanov’s successor, Mr. Vissarionovich Dzhugashvili, a very happy man, in the way the team dug in, much in the manner of Alexey Grigoryevich Stakhanov. In Soviet history and iconography, a Stakhanovite (стахановец) follows the example of Aleksei Grigorievich Stakhanov, employing hard work or Taylorist efficiencies to over-achieve at work. The Stakhanovite movement began during the second 5-year plan in 1935 as a new stage of the socialist competition and was named after Aleksei Stakhanov, who had mined 102 tons of coal in less than 6 hours (14 times his quota). However, his record would soon be "broken" by his followers. On February 1, 1936, it was reported that Nikita Izotov had mined 607 tons of coal in a single shift. If Newcastle United can overcome Anji and reach the quarter finals of the Europa League, it will have been as a result of Izotovite Labours. You can quote me on that.

Hebburn Up Here

My very good friend Andy Hudson is Hebburn Town's Minister for Propaganda. As we speak, he's in Spain on holiday. This presented a problem with his column in the match day programme v Ashington on March 12th. Luckily it was a case of cometh the hour; cometh the man. Here's my column, which amazingly doesn't mention a terribly unfunny alternative comedy or the Protestant Conservative Club..... If you fancy seeing the whole programme, it can be downloaded from here -:

http://issuu.com/nenadsuperzmaj/docs/hebburn-ashington-march2013

In the absence of Andy Hudson, I’m delighted to have been afforded the chance to pen a few words for the programme, especially as this evening’s opponents Ashington are the side I first followed when I was bitten by the Northern League bug. I’m at the game this evening, so if you’d like your copy autographed, don’t be shy; I do carry a pen! My interest in non-league football was sparked in the mid-90s, partly by a growing revulsion with the Premier League and partly by reading Harry Pearson’s magnificent book about football in the north east, The Far Corner, which inspired me to complete my Northern League “set” in double quick time. The first game I saw at Hebburn was a 2-0 defeat by South Shields on 7 October 1995; I trust I won’t bring such bad luck tonight, especially as the last game I saw involving the Hornets was the 5-0 loss at Whitley Bay, which I spent in the company of a certain Harry Pearson.

This evening’s game will be my 38^th Northern League encounter of the season; not a bad total, considering I’ve also seen Newcastle a dozen times, as well as a couple of Scottish fixtures with my absent friend Mr. Hudson. However, my real love is the Northern Alliance and, in particular, my club Percy Main Amateurs. I’ll be back here on Saturday 23^rd when we play Hebburn Reyrolle who, after coming so close to winning the title last season, are having a tough time of it at the foot of the table, along with the other side from south of the Tyne, Rutherford from Lobley Hill. At the top of the table, Heaton Stannington have signalled their desire to move up to the Northern League, but they are facing a tough battle for the Championship with the likes of Amble United and Carlisle City. As for Percy Main, we’re resolutely mid table and loving the atmosphere of our Step 7 Heaven.  Come and visit us some time; www.percymainafc.co.uk

It seems hard to believe it is 5 years since Ashington vacated their wonderful old Portland Park ground. I fell in love with the place when I first visited for a 5-2 win over Shotton Comrades on 15 January 1996. Until 2004, when geographical and personal circumstances meant I transferred my Northern League affections to Benfield, I wrote for Ashington’s legendary fanzine Pit Pony Express, held a season ticket, was a spectacularly unsuccessful Commercial Manager and exhorted the Collier Choir to chant in Slovak at games  (it’s a long story). All the best to both sides.

Sršne a Banici do toho!! 

Mná agus Fir na hÉireann

Beautiful piece of music that, isn’t it? I first heard Paddy Moloney & the Chieftains perform it on The Old Grey Whistle Test in about 1975 and I’ve loved it (and them) from that moment on.  Mná na hÉireann, translated as Women of Ireland, was composed by Seán Ó Riada, though the most famous version is the one by The Chieftains  that appears on the soundtrack to Stanley Kubrick’s film version of William Makepeace Thackeray’s novel Barry Lyndon. What I didn’t realise until very recently is that Mná na hÉireann is not just an instrumental, but is actually a poem by the eighteenth century Ulster bard, Peadar Ó Doirnín -:

Tá bean in Éirinn a bhronnfadh séad damh s’mo sháith le n-ól

S’tá bean in Éirinn s’ba binne léithe, mo rafla ceoil no seinm théid;

Tá bean in Éirinn s’níorbh fhearr léi beo

Mise ag léimnigh no leagtha i gcré s ‘mo tharr faoi fhód.

Tá bean in Éirinn a bheadh ag éad liom mur bhfaighinn ach póg

O bhean ar aonach, nach ait an scéala, is mo dhaimh féin leo;

Tá bean ab fhearr liom

No cath is céad dhíobh nach bhfagham go deo

S’tá cailín spéiriúil ag fear gan Bhearla, dubhghránna cróin

Tá bean a dearfadh da siúlainn léithe go bhfaighinn an t-ór

Is tá bean 'na léine is fearr a méin no na tainte bó

Le bean a bhuairfeadh Baile an Mhaoir agus clar Thir Eoghann,

S’ní fhaicim leigheas ar mo ghalar féin ach scaird a dh'ól

I don’t know what the words mean and frankly Google ‘s translation* is of no help whatsoever . However, if the poem’s message is half as beautiful or profound as Seán Ó Riada’s melody, then it deserves both equal recognition and equal acclaim.

Frankly, now is a time when all women of Ireland should be celebrated, supported and indeed venerated, especially in the wake of the appalling litany of abuse and exploitation that the McAleese Report in to the conditions that existed for more than half a century within the walls of the appalling, hateful Magdalene Laundries has uncovered. Rather than just individual testimonies and accounts of time spent in those dreadful institutions, where wholly innocent girls and young women, often themselves the desperate victims of abuse, poverty, neglect or circumstance, were sent to a life of domestic servitude from which there was no escape other than suicide or living as a fugitive, the McAleese Report provides a chilling official narrative in to the whole shameful business of systematic, institutional degradation. 

As is so often true of the seemingly endless parade of Irish social scandals and stories of shame from Partition onwards throughout the 26 Counties, in the absence of cruel England to assume the role of evil oppressor, blame must be equally apportioned to both the monstrous Catholic Church and the State itself, in the guise of their functionaries within the various  Free State governments of corrupt cute hoors who took social conservatism to a whole new level, mainly because they were obsessively and passionately wedded to De Valera’s chauvinistic, clericophilic constitution that didn’t always deliver the Ireland that we dreamed of.

In the case of the women who survived the Magdalene Laundries, a further slap in the face for these injured victims of church sponsored and government supported abuse came courtesy of Enda Kenny’s initial mealy-mouthed response to the damning evidence in the McAleese Report, which he had the craven temerity not to use as the basis for an immediate, heartfelt apology from the State to all victims. Bear in mind, Kenny’s initial inability to apologise came on the back of the case of Savita Halappanavar, denied an abortion and thus condemned to an outrageous and unnecessary death, from septicaemia, directly as a result of the illegality of abortions in Ireland. Savita’s death came twenty years after Ireland’s shame over the X Case, when a 14 year old pregnant rape victim was denied the chance to travel to England for an abortion. Remember also, the 1984 Kerry Babies Tribunal and the intimidatory, hectoring stance of An Garda Síochána in Cahirciveen towards any unmarried mother in the area.

Despite Kenny’s eventual blubbering apology, which he claimed was as a result of private reflection and nothing to do with the avalanche of negative media coverage directed towards initial his lack of concern for the victims, as well as opinion polls that show the unspeakable Dev’s Diehards in Fianna Fail building up a head of steam over Kenny’s Blue Shirts, no amount of compensation will give these women their youth, their health, their dignity or their privacy back. They deserve compensation, but they also deserve compassion and support. Indeed there are other female victims of male aggression in Ireland, in particular, Clare Daly TD, who deserve both compassion and support from the very people in whose name she dedicated her entire adult life and for whom she has even done time in prison. It makes me think of The Second Coming, in which W. B. Yeats commented -:

The best lack all conviction, while the worst

Are full of passionate intensity.

Daly, a former member of the Socialist Party (NOT the currently dormant World Socialist Party of Ireland, a companion party in the World Socialist Movement – see www.worldsocialism.org ) was elected to Dáil Éireann in the 2011 General Election for the North Dublin constituency. At that time the Socialist Party was part of a broad consensus known as the United Left Alliance (Comhaontas Aontaithe an Chlé), which resulted in the return of 5 left leaning TDs to Leinster House. These 5 also included Richard Boyd-Barrett and one-time Socialist Party member Joan Collins of People before Profit, in Dún Laoghaire and Dublin South respectively, Séamus Healy of Workers and Unemployed Action in Tipperary South, as well as Daly’s Socialist Party colleague, the unmarried former priest, Joe Higgins. ULA’s elected representatives also included Higgins’s successor in the European Parliament, Paul Murphy who, as per the rules of that institution, assumed the role of MEP when Higgins nominated him as his dauphin on abdicating his seat in Brussels, as it is Socialist Party policy not to have more than 1 elected role per member. In an email to me, Higgins’s Dail assistant Oisin Kelly confirmed that this was always the intention of Joe Higgins on winning the European seat, if he were subsequently elected to the Dail. Consequently smart arsed posters on www.politics.ie who tried to compare the Higgins to Murphy exchange as being somehow comparable to the Kim il-Sung to Kim Jong-il succession were clearly being wickedly mendacious, if amusing. Certainly Socialist Party policy and practice seems a more straightforward route of succession than the one adopted by Joe’s former employers in the Vatican, who still haven’t sent the call out to a certain Mr Hewson of Vico Road.

The volatile nature of Irish parliamentary politics in the wake of the 2011 election that saw a Fine Gael / Labour coalition, the almost complete humiliation of Fianna Fail, the obliteration of The Green Party and the elevation of Sinn Fein to fourth party status. This still meant that, ULA aside, there were 14 independents in 31st Dáil Éireann. Admittedly some of them were fashioned from the most appalling type of gombeen DNA, such as the latest Healy-Rae down in Kerry, but there were and still are socially progressive independents who would have gladly worked with ULA to fight against the direct and indirect taxation, welfare cuts and bank bailouts that Kenny was set on. Independents such as Luke “Ming” Flanangan in Roscommon, John Halligan in Waterford, who was deeply involved in the campaign against the household charge and, most controversially, Mick Wallace; the man behind Wexford Youths, were all prepared to work with ULA to provide a coherent opposition to the coalition’s swingeing austerity drive.

However, as with any Irish political silver lining, there’s a maelstrom of dark clouds to deal with. Within 2 months of being elected, Wallace’s financial affairs came under the spotlight; in response to media questions, he admitted to having knowingly falsified his VAT returns, claiming he did so to continue to be able to employ people in his construction business. It emerged the underpayment Wallace had engaged in was by the small matter of €19m; unsurprisingly, he claimed he didn’t have the money to hand and would face complete ruin if he was chased for it. In the end, he made a settlement of €2,133,708, though there is an on-going investigation in to his personal taxation liability; don’t hold your breath for the outcome though. 

Following these revelations, Wallace was almost entirely rusticated by the independent group in Dáil Éireann, though he had made one lasting friendship and a political ally in Clare Daly; this was a new pals’ act that did not go down well in the Socialist Party and you can see why. For a self-professed mass revolutionary party to have one of its newly elected TDs cavorting with a tax-dodging wide boy with appalling dress sense was not on. To those of us outside the Socialist Party, the idea that the consenting adult you share your bed with can be grounds for expulsion may be mystifyingly intrusive, but I guess we’re probably just being bourgeois in thinking that Mick Wallace is Little Musgrave and Clare Daly Lady Barnard.

While Wallace was not a member of the ULA, he was known to be close to certain other ULA TDs and not just Daly. One who had no time for him was Seamus Healy, who immediately called for Wallace to resign his seat, describing his behaviour as "completely and absolutely wrong and unacceptable.” Clare Daly refused to support this call, presumably as she was now attempting to serve two masters in the shape of her political home and her new partner. Because of pressure placed on her as a result, Daly resigned from the Socialist Party on 31 August 2012. In a statement, the Socialist Party said it believed Daly had resigned because “she placed more value on her political connection with Independent TD Mick Wallace than on the political positions and work of the Socialist Party." This claim was dismissed by Daly as "absolute nonsense,” but her departure was final.

Daly stated that she intended to remain a member of the ULA as an independent, which is how she still describes herself on her personal and Dail websites. The Socialist Party responded with a statement on 3 September questioning her future membership of ULA as she had “already inflicted serious damage on herself, and some damage on the Socialist Party and the United Left Alliance.” On 8 October 2012 Daly appeared on Tonight with Vincent Browne and was questioned on her reasons for resigning from the Socialist Party. She stated that "not enough attention was being put into...the building of the ULA," and referring to "plenty of reasons" for her to believe this to be the case over a long period of time, which sounds as unconvincing on paper as it did when she spoke the words. Crucially though, Daly also condemned "the actions" of Mick Wallace in avoiding payments of VAT. However this was not enough for Joe Higgins or Seamus Healy.

On 2 October 2012 the Workers and Unemployed Action Group withdrew from the United Left Alliance. Healy stated that WUAG's calls for Wallace's resignation had been blocked on a number of occasions by another party in the alliance, which could only have been the actions of People before Profit TDs Boyd-Barrett and Collins. Healy further cited concerns over "factional activity" by the Socialist Workers’ Party (the ideological home of Boyd-Barrett and Collins), which it claimed was attempting to boost its own membership at the expense of the ULA. However, the ULA was effectively done for in December 2012, when the Socialist Party stated "we will be diminishing our participation in the ULA.” Finally, on 26 January 2013, the Socialist Party, who would probably be a perfect fit for the slogan ourselves alone if another Irish political party hadn’t already commandeered it,  announced they were withdrawing from the ULA, which is now down to 3TDs, but with strengthening links to certain of the socially progressive Independent TDs alluded to previously.  The Socialist Party probably regard the likes of Halligan and Flanagan as wishy washy mealy mouthed bourgeois reformists.

Two days after this decision, Clare Daly’s car was stopped by Garda in Kilmainham on Dublin’s southside, frightening close to the canal when one considers Daly’s parallels with Rosa Luxemburg. She was breathalysed, but the Garda administering the test claimed the machine had not worked properly, though more likely it provided a result that displeased him, at which point Daly was handcuffed, thrown in the back of a van, driven to Kilmainham Garda Station and kept in a locked cell. All of these events were referred to as “established procedure.” They were nothing of the sort of course; it was state condoned oppression, targeted specifically against a left wing activist who had stood up against police brutality in the past. The wrongful arrest and illegal imprisonment of Clare Daly who had committed no offence, as a urine test showed she was 33% below the alcohol level having had one hot whiskey for a cold, can only be seen as a deliberate attempt to further discredit her in the eyes of the Irish electorate.

Since this event (you can read more about it at http://www.claredaly.ie/statement-from-clare-daly-td/#more-1362), support and compassion for another Irish woman who has been a victim of state sponsored thuggery has been forthcoming from all her political allies, though not publicly from her former colleagues in the Socialist Party, as far as I can tell. However, in the email alluded to before, Oisin Kelly states “the Socialist Party oppose any victimisation by Garda of anyone and oppose inproper (sic) conduct by Garda such as leaking information to the press.”  Did someone from the Socialist Party feed information about her whereabouts that night to Garda Síochána, as was alleged on www.politics.ie by some of the more swivel-eyed conspiracy theorists from the former Workers’ Party? I don’t know, but I very much doubt it. Certainly, the Socialist Party have proved themselves not to be slow in coming forward over both Garda brutality and legal matters in the past.  In 2012, legal advice was sought over criticism of the expense claims of Daly and Higgins, when it emerged their travel expenses may have been used for travelling to anti-household charge meetings across the country, outside of their Dublin constituencies.  It was subsequently confirmed by the Minister for Public Expenditure Brendan Howlin that they were entitled to make these claims. The ULA and Socialist Party stated at the time that the story was a "manufactured controversy" and part of a "vindictive smear campaign by Independent Newspapers." Therefore, I feel sure they would not seek to blackguard Clare Daly in this manner.

However, it would be helpful if Joe Higgins, who so eloquently brought the Irish politicians and rapacious fiscal conmen to book for the hypocrisy that allows them to shed their crocodile tears over the Magdalene Laundries and maintain a complicit silence over the continuing penury visited over millions of ordinary Irish people by the greed and incompetence of those in charge at Allied Irish Bank, gave unequivocal support to Clare Daly, another female victim of human rights abuses by the Irish State, over this latest fiasco. If such support has been made clear and I’ve missed it, I apologise and will amend this blog accordingly.

I would also say that guidance on the unacceptable nature of male violence towards women, in any context, may be of great help to the Socialist Party’s rank and file; some of whom seem to excuse Paul Gascoigne’s violent and abusive conduct towards his ex-wife, on account of the fact Gascoigne was born in to a working class family, though others would argue with justification that Gascoigne was of the lumpenproletariat. Male domestic violence, whatever class the perpetrator hails from, is unacceptable; end of debate.  It may be too late for the Socialist Party to mend fences with Clare Daly or the rest of the ULA, but lessons must be learned about gender politics and the abuse of power within domestic and family relationships, in Ireland and elsewhere. To absolve Gascoigne of responsibility because of his roots, while at the same time denouncing David Beckham for donating his salary from Paris St. Germain to a local children’s charity as a bourgeois act, is frankly wrongheaded at every possible level.

Talking of Frank, I’m somewhat taken aback by Lampard Junior signing a publishing deal to write children’s books; having read the opening two chapters of his turgid 2006 autobiography Totally Frank, I struggle to believe he can make his prosody complex and fluent enough to engage 7 year olds. Even more astonishing, he is to incorporate some of his current team mates as characters in his books: Poorly Peter with his protective headgear in case he should fall, Pacifisto de Mierda the £50m hit man who is scared to shoot and, worst of all, Jaytee the scumbag racist who steals everyone’s girlfriend and whose family shoplift for a living.

It makes me glad to turn my attention to Irish team sports to get away from politics for a while. As we await the start of the 2013 League of Ireland, the 2012/2013 Irish League, a competition I know little about, continues apace. Except for one small detail; the Crusaders versus Cliftonville game was postponed on 16 February, not because of the weather, but because Loyalist Flegs protestors wouldn’t allow the game to go ahead. Since life in the north has returned to a semblance of normality, football has kept pace with the changes. While Linfield still see themselves as some part of a Blues Brothers alliance with Rangers and Chelsea (the Micky Droy version rather than Juan Mata era it has to be pointed out), almost all Irish League clubs have sought to distance themselves from an undoubtedly segregated and indeed sectarian sporting map of the past.

While many clubs can do nothing about their geographical location, which was always as much of a keynote definition of religion, politics and the like, as asking someone to pronounce the eighth letter of the alphabet (haitch for Catholics and aitch for Protestants) or where they went to school or, bizarrely, how old their granny was (the number given would be the number of the Orange Lodge the speaker was a member of, unfeasibly enough), it is certainly true that community inclusivity is a philosophical imperative and not just a glib catchphrase these days. For example, the likes of Crusaders and Cliftonville have sought to depoliticise their games; their clash is referred to now as the North Belfast derby, which is as good, and as neutral a name for it as any.

Unfortunately the No Surrender lot, sounding as ever more implausible, anachronistic and vindictive as John Vorster or P. W. Botha, will not do their farcical campaign any good at all. I’m sure Sir Edward Carson’s cause will have been advanced by a couple of hundred bladdered, bawling Union Jack waving clowns lobbing bricks at the PSNI outside of a football ground, pissing off residents, supporters and politicians  as they did so. The encouraging news for Crusaders and Cliftonville is that the entire Irish League is behind them. Whether it is football, GAA, rugby, hockey or tiddlywinks, cross community and cross border sports co-operation and participation is a fact of life on the island of Ireland.

As my mate Peter from Bangor points out, rugby truly is an all island game; the desperate defeat to England would have been as keenly felt in Moyross as it was on the Malone Road. To dismiss the 15 man code as a garrison game is anachronistic to say the least. However, if the rugby isn’t going well, there’s always time to think about the football, by which I mean soccer as the GAA is only doing the leagues at the minute and no-one’s really bothered about those.

The 2013 Airtricity League kicks off on 8 March, with 20 teams taking part. Typically enough, we’re looking at a 12 team Premier Division, where they play each other 3 times and an 8 team First Division playing a quartet of contests. All well and good so far, but the devil as always, is in the detail. The vacancy caused by Monaghan United’s resignation midway through last season has been filled by Cobh Ramblers, who dropped out of the League in 2008 for financial reasons. The Corrib Triangle has been resolved by a continuation of the unsatisfactory situation of last year; Galway United remain in abeyance, while Mervue United and Salthill Devon, back at Drom and no longer referring to themselves as SD Galway, are in the First Division. Limerick have taken their place in the Premier Division, having been granted a licence. Initially, the only bone of contention reseds with Dundalk, who were only granted a provisional Premier Licence, but further financial checks allowed them to satisfy the criteria, at the expense of Waterford United, play off losers last season, who had hoped to get the gig.

Looking at the Premier, it is hard to see anyone other than Sligo Rovers for the title, though Derry, Shams and St. Pat’s will be worthy competitors. Cork, Bohs, Shels and Drogheda seem destined for midtable mediocrity, while Limerick, Bray, UCD and Dundalk will look upon survival as a major success. In the First Division, surely it must be time for Waterford to finally win promotion, though Longford, who are now playing at the City Calling Stadium, named after the recruitment firm who sponsor them and employ Keith Gillespie who will be playing out his last season for de town in 2013, and perhaps Cobh will have their say. Athlone and Finn Harps have history, tradition and very little else going for them, while Mervue, Salthill and Wexford will continue to have less spectators than players.

While we await the opening Airtricity fixtures, the EA Cup and the Setanta Cup have swung in to action. In the former, Mervue United defeated Cockhill Celtic in the first round 2-1, while the Mayo League lost 4-1 at Castlebar to Finn Harps. Meanwhile the Setanta Cup remains as unwieldy as ever. It comprises 12 sides, 6 from each league, with an equal split of 4 from each in round 1 and the remainder given a bye to round 2, with the whole competition over 2 legs apart from the final. In round one, the League of Ireland held the upper hand; Drogheda United had the biggest win, 8-2 on aggregate over Portadown (including an impressive 5-0 away win in the Citadel), though Cork City weren’t far behind, easing past Cliftonville 6-2. The other two ties were tighter; Shamrock Rovers had to win 2-0 at the Showgrounds to defeat Coleraine 2-1, while the sole success for the Irish League saw Glentoran shade St. Patrick’s Athletic 1-0 on aggregate.

 

The second round saw Cork defeat Crusaders 4-1 on aggregate, while in the other 3 ties only the first leg has been played. Derry versus Drogheda, in the only all-League of Ireland tie, ended up all square at 1-1, while Sligo banjoed Glentoran 5-1 and in a tie where I’d like to see both sides lose, Shamrock Rovers saw off Linfield, 4-1. It all suggests a semi-final quartet entirely from the League of Ireland.

Every Friday night, and some Saturdays as well, I’ll be providing score updates at https://twitter.com/PayasoDeMierda though there’s also the enticing prospects of live games on www.rte.ie  with Limerick v Cork at 5.15 on Sunday 10 March and Shamrock Rovers hosting St. Pat’s on Friday 15 March at 7.35 for starters. Also, the fabulous www.extratime.ie tells you everything you need to know about the Irish domestic game.

* Google’s less than helpful translation of Mná na hÉireann -:

A woman in Ireland granted Chad ith ox s'mo of the drinking

S'tá woman in Ireland gray cliff s'ba my music rumor or enters the playing;

A woman living in Ireland s'níorbh prefer

Me jumping or set in clay 's my another great jaw.

A woman in Ireland who would envy me if I got naught but a kiss

O lady fair, is not strange to hear, they my faculty;

I prefer a woman

No battle a hundred of them will never get

Scenic girl S'tá area man without English, so ugly

Woman gray would da siúlainn say that I find the gold

The woman is' the best tresses shirt or cow wealth

Female Warden to bhuairfeadh Home and program country Eoghann,

S'ní fhaicim jet cure for my disease to drink