Warts 'n all

With the imminent release of The Damned United clearly in mind, ITV screened the imaginatively titled ‘Clough’ documentary last Wednesday night, promising a truer account of the man than the film.

If The Damned United book is clearly detrimental to the memory of Brian Clough, as well as the likes of Don Revie, Billy Bremner and, in the first editions only, Johnny Giles, painting Mr Clough as an alcoholic, chain smoking his way through trying to restructure of what was a very successful Leeds side, the ITV documentary chose to show the softer, family orientated side to the man.

The Leeds players came out of the documentary certainly better than they do in the book. I can understand both sets of opinions, but it’s hard not to side with the man that won European trophies while Leeds sunk to the second division for the best part of the next decade.

The documentary, like the book, interwove current events, Brian Clough’s induction into the EUFA Hall of Fame, with flash backs of his time at Derby, Leeds and the initial successful period at Forest. The back drop to the story was talking heads from former players and, to completely blow the David Peace book & film out of the water, the Clough family themselves.

It was clear what the documentary was trying to say, Brian Clough wasn’t just a successful football manager, he was also a husband, a father, a grand-father.

But while the book is harsh on the Clough memory, the ITV documentary chose to gloss over the less successful aspects of Clough’s personality. His fall-out with Peter Taylor dismissed without any explanation or in-depth analysis as to how that effected his other, more public, demon, alcohol. The drinking was similarly dismissed, Sir Geoffrey Boycott, a similarly bluff talking Yorkshire man, the only person to mention IT.

And then IT was gone. A couple of shots of a clearly shaking Clough at the end of a game the only indication of the down-fall to come.

But why gloss over the latter periods of his Forest reign ? Sure, even Stevie Wonder would have seen what was coming at the end of the 92/93 season, Clough’s ability to pick a player having deserted him and with our two most creative players, Clough jnr & Roy Keane playing in defence. But the vast majority of Forest fans celebrated that relegation, Clough was awarded the freedom of Nottingham during that free-fall period, the reaction from the Sheffield United fans in the game that sealed our fate, all positive things.

The team Clough created in the late eighties, all without Taylor, was in my opinion better than that of the late seventies. The record books might record an FA Cup final & two semi-finals, two League Cup wins, a couple of Simod Cup thingies, but what it won’t properly portray is the style of that team which, on it’s day, was capable of beating anyone. In a stark warning of the future for Forest, and other clubs, Neil Webb’s financially motivated move away from a better placed Forest team to a Man United team staving off relegation stopped Forest moving beyond from their third place league finish. It’s still my feeling that had Webb stayed, we’d have challenged for the league the season after he went rather than a repeat of that third place spot.

Clough’s battle with liver disease, a battle he played out less publicly, more successfully and with a damn sight more respect than George Best ever mustered didn’t get a mention, the documentary jumping to the unveiling of the Brian Clough statue just off the Market Square, flashing back to the same location, different scenes from 30 years earlier as the victorious European Cup winners came home. I was there for both occasions and I’m not ashamed to say that during the documentary I shed a couple of tears, tears of remembrance for a man who has brought me so much pleasure, tears for a time that will never return and tears for the memories that it was my dad that had taken me to the Square all those years ago, completing the family theme.

While it’s never a chore to watch Brian Clough talking, and the documentary last night had plenty of examples, it would have been nice to have had a definitive telling of the whole story, start to finish, not just a family's right to reply to a fictional book.

Well, that's it, then

Grading number nine, and my last club grading, took place on Thursday. The bruises on both feet a testament to the level of sparring needed to move up to a Taekwondo black tag. Sparring with TWO black belts at THE SAME TIME was not something I had envisaged, but attack is the best form of defence in circumstances like that, so by the end of it they both knew they'd been in a fight.

I'll miss grading at the club, the nerves, the camaraderie, the honest of all concerned. I'll still be able to help out in the future, so I'll still be there and it'll be my turn to give something back.

My next grading will be up in sunny Doncaster in roughly six months time, and that will be the big one, the step up to Black Belt.

Gulp.

Not looking good, is it ?

This is how I see things ending up, not good, eh ?

Using the BBC's predictor. Upset yourself by doing the same thing here.

Forest nil 0:1 Wolves

In the Lincolnshire Poacher before the game for what is turning into a little bit of a pre-match tradition, blow drinking near the ground, the beer’s rubbish anyway, stay in the Poacher and get a taxi down around 2’ish, sorted. The Fullers ‘Nook’ the best of the three I tried. Interesting really, as I can’t abide their London Pride, neither the drink nor the sentiment.

I say the beer’s c**p near the ground, until a swift Deuchars in, of all places, the Southbank Bar proved me wrong.

I wasn’t looking forward to the game itself. Having already been to Wolves last August and seen us ship five in exactly the same spineless manner as last week I was fearing the worst.

Wolves were the better side, have better players and are clearly heading for promotion. Forest didn’t create a single effort on target.

So why do I feel a bit gutted we didn’t come away with a point ?

We certainly didn’t deserve to get all three by any means, but then neither did Premier League bound Wolves.

Tactically, defensively at least, Billy Davies ripped Mick McCarthy a new one. McCarthy has filled his team with big clogging centre halves and big clumsy centre forwards in the hope of just clumsily barging their way to promotion.

And they’ll get there, but only because the rest of the teams at the top are bottling it in a bigger, more clumsily way.

Wolves will go up, but if they can be held back by a team seemingly heading for relegation to the third division, then it’s not going to take Premier League defences much work to stop them, certainly if Mick ‘one tactic’ McCarthy is still there.

And besides, that’s Wolves problems, we don’t need to be interested in them again for at least 18 months.

Forest will stay up, but only if they can play with the same spirit as Saturday, if they can balance out the defensive duties with actually attacking once or twice, if they get that little bit of luck that’s been absent for large parts of this season, if they can bolster the attack.

It’s all a big IF.

Irony

Isn’t, as Baldrick believed, something made out of a lot of iron.

Irony, as Alanis Morissette explained, is winning the lottery as an old man but dying the next day, being stuck in traffic when you’re already late or rain on your wedding day.

She could add to that; Having a conversation with a work colleague about never having had a parking ticket, and then getting one three days after. There must be a higher being after all and he likes traffic wardens.

And it was right outside my house !!

Ah well.

I’ve challenged it, I’ve got a pass but it had slipped down my dash-board, so I suppose technically I’m guilty, m’lud. By the time the very pleasant CEO had taken the photo of my car with the ticket sticking to the windscreen, the pass was clearly visible, so technically, he can whistle, m’lud.

The £50 fine, trimmed to £25 if paid within two weeks almost tempted me to say ‘sod it’ and just pay it anyway, but I get the same two weeks to pay the £25 if I fail, so what have I got to lose ?

C’est la vie, I suppose.

Anyway, I’ve never won the jackpot on the lottery and I’d rather not wait until I’m 98, if that’s ok. Hopefully the higher being that likes lottery winners is listening this time.

Do you remember ...

... Craig Burley ?

(Hat tip to the When Saturday Comes weekly e-mail for this gem.)

Clearly Craig Burley hasn't been updating his own Wikipedia entry á la Garry Parker, but someone has, and hit the nail as firmly on the head as you can get:

From Wikipedia

Pundit

Burley now works as a pundit and commentator on [[Setanta Sports], where his retarded opinions match those of his colleagues at Setanta.

Quite frankly, he could not analyze a bucket of piss.

Gutted

From the BBC:

Finn creates USB 'finger drive'

A Finnish computer programmer who lost one of his fingers in a motorcycle accident has made himself a prosthetic replacement with a USB drive attached.

Superb, yet when I asked for my removed testicle to be replaced with one of those 'bell ball' thingies you find round cat collars, I was refused.

I feel robbed.

It amazes me .....

..... how many thick racist retards there are in this country.

Sure, stop what is (still, for the time being) a national right to be able to send mail around the country & abroad to those people who, for whatever reasons, don't have a suitable grasp of the English language. (Post office boss bans customers with poor English. From the Evening Post)

Some people have difficulties with foreign languages, I know I do, never was my forté. And that's ignoring those with speech problems leading to mail sometimes being more a necesity than usual.

What next ? Ban people who can't understand the complex forms you sometimes get at Post Offices ? Short people who can't reach items above head-height ?

In times of economic hardship, it's always the minorites that get it in the neck first.

We've already seen examples of nationalism under a socialist banner here and here.

This country is slowly slipping into the depression seen in the mid seventies.

But there's worrying overtones of thirties Germany in there as well.

Plenty of notice

Looks like next week's going to be the start of good things.

Firstly is the new series of the moron filled Apprentice. Watching these numpties go through twelve weeks of "interviews" highlights the levels some people will go to get into a position to toady up someone else's a**e.

The first week they have to set up a cleaning business. Hmmmmm, sounds familiar. They'd be better off trying to build a cheap stereo where the buttons don't break after ten minutes, eh SrAlan.

One of the apprentice candidates has already "bottled it", in SrAlan's words, presumably through not having access to a television and understanding that the nature of the program meant living away from home for so long. With intelligence like that it would have hardly been for as long as he feared any way.

Followed swiftly by the genius that is Charlie Brooker with his new series, Newswipe (BBC FOUR, Wednesday March 25).

Looks like the Sky+ is going to take a battering.

Do you remember Garry Parker ?

I do, being the sad statto that I am.

A decent midfielder come left winger, scored a couple of decent goals, the one at Bristol City springs to mind.

Still got an imprint of Paul Gascoigne's boot on his chest.

There you go.

What's he up to now ? He's a painter and decorator, as it happens.

But as a sideline, I think he also writes overly long Wikipedia entries about himself.

In the cold light of day

If you look at the papers, the Internet, both locally and nationally, almost every day there's stories of knife crime, aggressive car theft, muggings, crime where the perpetrator uses violence against the victim.

Similarly, there are the catch up stories from the courts where the convicted criminals from a few months back are let off with a warning, community service, a paltry fine or if they're really unlucky, a letter telling them they're not allowed to break the law (yet) again.

There's little wonder, therefore, that the more 'honest' citizens decide to take the law into the own hands.

The stories coming out of the latest stabbing in Nottingham, leading to the death of a teenage boy, mainly conclude that it involve a failed burglary involving the victim.

Whatever your views on the state of crime in this country, the social reasons leading to disaffected youngsters, sentencing, the political answers or the bigger picture, what can't be forgotten is that here a young man has lost his life, lost his opportunity to shine, lost his chance to make amends for any perceived indiscretions. A mother has lost her son, her first born as it happens, a father's lost his son, he was some one's brother, lots of peoples' friend.

Whatever the outcome of the investigation, what can't be forgotten is that we DON'T have the death penalty in this country for ANY crime. People DON'T deserve to die for their crimes, and sitting on the internet "praising his killer" (Story in the Nottingham Evening Post, March 17) is morally wrong and as insensitive as you can possibly get.

Haven't done this for a while

This sees a return to form and no mistake.

Starsailor - All the Plans

If they've got it in Selectadisc, buy it there, it's not on their website, unfortunately. They may not be investing in new stock, which would be understandable.

Otherwise, here at Amazon is cheaper than HMV, or Fopp (HMV) or Zavvi (HMV).

The extra few quid for the double CD is worth it.

Enjoy.

The loss of Selectadisc really is going to leave a huge hole in Nottingham. It was always better spending a few bob more knowing it was going to the right place, and picking up the odd (couple of dozen !!) Fall CD's on every visit.

Below is a list of independant record stores still opperating in Nottingham from the always good Left Lion. Look there first, if possible:

Independent record stores still in Nottingham:

Anarchy Records – Second hand CD's and Vinyl
Mansfield Road

Funky Monkey – Dance, Electronica, House
14 Goose Gate

Good Vibrations – Second hand vinyl
137 Mansfield Road

Oh My Gosh – DnB, Hip Hop, Techno, Funk
43 Mansfield Road

Robs Records – Second hand treasure trove of vinyl
4 Hurts Yard

The Heavy Sounds – Heavy Rock, Metal, Glam
15 – 17 West End Arcade

Barnsley for half price

After the debacle of Saturday, Forest are offering half price tickets for their next away effortless capitulation, sorry, unlucky loss, at Barnsley on April 4 for those who suffered in Lancashire.

It’s like the old joke,

“First prize in the raffle is a Notts County season ticket”

“What’s the second prize ?”

“Two Notts County season tickets !!”

I can’t make it, a long since booked weekend away to York beckons, the museums, pubs, Minster, more pubs, you get the picture.

So, if you want a half price ticket to the cultural high point of Yorkshire that is Barnsley (I’m not being facetious, Barnsley really is the cultural high point of Yorkshire), then let me know.

Form an orderly queue, no pushing at the back.

If you never read anything else ever again .....

Nearly the twentieth anniversary of the Hillsborough disaster, so expect further coverage in the national media, but this article in the Observer nearly had me in tears.

'Brain decline' begins at age 27

Me no agree.

Brain work gooder than yeztaday.

(From the BBC)

Apparently, you're at your smartest at the age of 22, which was 1991 for me.

If that IS true, that pretty much makes me officially the thickest person in the world.

Award for £1.5m waterfront design

Haven't seen this anywhere else;

THE £1.5m regeneration of Nottingham's Meadow Lane waterfront has received a design award from the Institution of Civil Engineers.

It was presented as the project's partners visit the site to see the start of the construction phase.

The Civil Engineering Environmental Quality Assessment Award found the project had exceeded standards by 60%, which is regarded as "very good".

Organisations involved in the development include Nottingham City Council, Nottingham Waterside Limited, Homes & Communities Agency and East Midlands Development Agency (emda).

Morrison Construction is the main construction contractor.

The project, which is due to be complete by August, will improve facilities and expand access to Nottingham city centre for walkers, cyclists, boaters and disabled visitors by improving the link between the existing canal towpath and Victoria Embankment.

From the Nottingham Evening Post.

Burnley 5:0 Forest

Where do I start with this one ? I wasn’t supposed to be here, I had tickets for the Reading game for my boys birthday, but his dodgy guts put paid to that trip (which we won, obviously) so had to be rearranged for this fiasco.

I left the house at 8am, dropped my other lad off at his swimming lessons before driving down to the ground in plenty of time for a bit of McDonalds breakfast. Safely on the coach with a decent seat with time to spare. Why mention all this ? Because in that period I made more f***ing effort than the useless t**ts who failed to turn up in Forest shirts.

Spineless, lacking in effort, clueless, bottlers. All adjectives that could describe the Forest team if they improved. I don’t think there are adjectives for how they played on Saturday.

Not that Burnley were all that better.

For the first fifteen minutes, I don’t think either side put two passes together. The pitch resembled the rolling moors seen on the magical mystery tour the official coaches took us on. That may well be the last time I use the official coach. 4½ hours to go 100 miles up the road is a long time in anyone’s book. I could have f***ing walked it quicker. The local plod didn’t help, the whole town of Burnley seems to be stuck in some mid eighties time warp, from the Neanderthal support through 2 coppers for every fan. It’s the twenty first century where I live.

The wind stopped any passing over 2 foot off the ground, so the initial period was poor to say the least.

Then the strange things started to happen.

Robbie Blake (remember when we had him ?) hit a free kick straight into Paul Smith’s arms from somewhere near my house. Paul Smith decided he didn’t need to catch it with his arms as he had this net type thing behind him to stop the path of the ball. One nil down without either side entering the opposition box. One nil became two nil when Robbie Blake, again, decided to ballet dance his way through the Forest defence, a task made a whole lot easier when the forest defence decided to let him through without so much as coughing in his general direction, let alone putting in a sodding tackle. The scramble on the line underlined the farcical nature of the game so far.

The linesman decided to join in the fun by giving Nathan Tyson offside from a Burnley back-pass. Sensing his mistake, the linesman then called over the referee to point out his error to the whole crowd. Clown.

Whatever was said at half time clearly had no effect whatsoever as we had shipped another within 3 minutes, Luke Chambers deciding the job of right back didn’t include defending the right side of Forest’s, and I use the word lightly, defence. Burnley’s fourth looked good, but was made a lot easier by a repeat of the no-tackling philosophy trialled in the first half and a goalkeeper nailed to the floor. Their fifth was taken well, but assisted by a Forest team who had long since decided that the only way a pass was going to result in a goal was if it was straight to a Burnley player in our box.

The Burnley website states that they only had four shots on target all game, yet they won 5:0. Strange. But not half as strange as the tannoy announcing that the Burnley sponsor’s man-of-the-match was their left-back !!! Five goals, five different scorers and their left back is man-of-the-match ? What did he do to win that ? I reckon he must have been in the sponsors box for ninety minutes making tea, serving sandwiches or moulding balloon animals for the kids, ‘cause it certainly wasn’t for any defending he had to do.

The Burnley ground is poor. Two decent stands and an old style main stand for the home fans, but what can only be described as a museum was allocated for the travelling Trickies. Colder down below than up top, a smaller tele than I’ve got in my phone showing the Man United / Liverpool laugh-a-thon and that old staple from the 1950’s, wooden seats.

So, a p**s poor performance, rotting ground, in-bred opposition fans, over zealous police, rumours of Billy Davies falling out with certain players and a numb a**e from sitting on wooden planks & a coach for eight hours.

Happy Birthday, son.

The Damned United

Not long now until the film adaptation of David Peace's Brian Clough book The Damned United hits the cinemas.

I've read the book and thoroughly enjoyed it, mainly because as a Forest fan it's funny to see someone laying into Dirty Leeds and reading how Derby basically p***ed all over their chips.

But, it's very hard to read the book and remember that it is a complete work of fiction.

I don't know whether that's down to the excellent writing, down to earth, gritty, real, or the human brain's insistence on filling in knowledge gaps wherever possible.

Johnny Giles has already taken legal action over the book;

David Peace has taken a 44-day period, and put in real names and conversations between me and Clough that never happened. In the book I am plotting against Clough, which never happened.

leading to passages being removed from the second edition (more here).

I'll probably go see the film, if only to remember that Forest's illustrious history I'm so rightfully proud of could quite easily have belonged to Leeds or Derby.

But I'll have to keep pinching myself while it's on.

Another Nottingham legend to go ?

The Irish, the last place you want to go on a night out, but the only one you can all agree on. Full of mid-thirties mothers on nights out trying to relive their old days.

I remember the time you had to be Irish to get in, or at least worked behind a bar with someone Irish (thanks Sean). You got a little folded cardboard membership card to the 'Nottingham & East Midlands Irish Social Centre' and with that you didn't have to give your fathers name to the bouncers on the door. And boy, were those bouncers needed. There didn't seem to be a night when there wasn't trouble, chairs flying around the dance floors, gangs of lads waiting for other gangs of lads outside.

So it all changed. Sensing the correlation between stupid students and lots of disposable income, almost overnight The Irish, as it was now called, had turned into a student night-club. At the time it was pretty much the ONLY night-club in town you could get in wearing jeans. If you weren't in by 10:30 you'd shot it, with both upstairs and downstairs bars dangerously packed full. Somehow I managed to get hold of a few graduate membership cards, never ending with a host of different names. No queuing for me any more.

Thursday night was nurses nights, and especially the first Thursday after their collective pay-day. It was like shooting fish in a barrel.

As time went on and fashions changed, more clubs allowed people in with jeans and the Irish's attendance dipped. The downstairs of the night-club closed, never to re-open. And then the final death-nail, late night drinking. Most of the people who went to the Irish never danced, preferring to stand around chatting at the bar. What's the point of paying a few quid to have a late drink at a bar when you can do it for free in most bars in Nottingham. The credit crunch kicks in, people stay at home drinking cooking lager at 50p a can, and pubs shut down at the rate of 8 a day. EIGHT A DAY !!!

So, without so much as a whimper, the Irish night-club closed in December. Now it seems the whole social club is going under too. £30,000 in the hole to repay refurbishments that, in my humble opinion, weren't necessary in the first place.

You can donate money, details here, but whether that will be enough is any one's guess.

I'll give a few quid, and hope others do the same. I've had some good memories there, a couple of dodgy ones too, but in the main happy times. Hopefully they'll raise enough money to keep afloat during the current financial crisis, organise something with their creditors to help in the long term, and then come back all guns blazing in better times.

Or, should I just hold on to the good times ? ........

Pretty much every Thursday night in the early nineties - You could tell which records would be played and when, Katrina and the Waves, Dexys, The Pogues. Britpop came and went but things remained the same. Dance all night with your mates, chat someone up if you wanted, wasn't always necessary. Wait until the slow songs come on and grab the nearest member of the opposite sex. Easy.

July 2006 - England lose to Portugal on penalties. My mate and I, dressed in the English national costume of shorts, England shirts and filp-flops head off into town to drown our sorrows. The night-club hasn't opened at ten when we get there, so we go downstairs to the social club next door. It's a wedding reception for people we don't know. They let us in and give us food. Where else do you get that ?

October 2002 - My last night in Nottingham before my dream move to Scotland. Beer Festival and then the Irish. Everyone who I wanted there was there. Superb. Mixed feelings now looking back on it, my dream move turned into a bit of a 'mare and it turns out that some of the, ahem, more important people there didn't have the same sense of direction as me. Ah well.

March 1989 - Up there fourth in the best days of my life, behind both my kids getting born (equal first, in case they're reading this, in which case I didn't do anything on Thursday nights, honest) and a balmy night in August 2007. Got back from Old Trafford after witnessing Forest beating United 1:0 in the qtr final of the FA Cup. Straight into town and down The Irish. Danced like a goon all night, drunk on the result & lots of alcohol. Picked up and back to a house in the Meadows 'til the following morning. As I walked home Sunday morning I met me dad walking to work, one of those times when a wink is all that's needed.

Forest 1:1 Swansea

As sure as an absolute nailed on score draw as you're ever going to get, but still, I've got this nagging doubt we should have won this. Ah well, I'd have took a point before the game against a very good Swansea side, so all's fair.

Swansea are a lot like Forest used to be, nice passing, plenty of movement, lots of free space and absolutely toothless up front.

Forest now are a different team to the one that capitulated in Wales last August. Moussi & Osbourne bossed the centre of midfield, Cohen bossed, well, everywhere. Even Joel Lynch looks like a decent player. I'm not too sure whether this is just improvement from a starting position of being one of the worst players I've ever seen in the Garibaldi, but long may it continue.

So, a good game in nice conditions and a fair(ish) result.

So, what the f**k do the three people two rows behind me have to moan about constantly from 2:40 through 4:55 ?

The manager doesn't know what he's doing, he should be making a substitution, go on make a substitution, make one now. No, not now, what are you doing ?

Kelvin Wilson gets a lot of stick, but constantly, and from so far away that he can't possibly hear it. Yet the three gormless monkeys bang on at him like he's sat next to them, he can hear every word. If he could hear every word, the chances are they wouldn't be shouting it.

Yet most of the vitriol is aimed at Paul Smith. Our keeper certainly divides opinion, some (like myself) regard him as a good shot-stopper and that that alone makes him a good option. Others believe, and I can't disagree with them on this, that his command of the area could improve. Lee Camp came in and basically earned himself almost Clough like status for one penalty save against the sheep in November, and he is seen as the way forward.

To the three behind me, he can't do right for doing wrong.

Kick it, kick it, kick it. Why have you kicked it you ****.

While everyone else is on their feet as Smith makes a save low near the post, these morons are complaining that he hasn't held on to it. And then launched it 80 yards straight on to someones toes. Preferably his own, before he sidesteps 18 defenders and sticks one into the top corner from the middle of the Market Square.

But then they'd probably still moan about his goal celebration.

Forest 2:1 Preston

In some of the foulest weather I’ve ever attended a football match (I was getting wet half way up the Trent End UPPER Tier), Forest extended their good form and recorded a second consecutive win against a top six side aiming for promotion. We battled harder than Preston, we acclimatised ourselves to the conditions better and we created more chances. In short, disregarding the bizarre nature of the second goal, we deserved the win.

The lad Osbourne played well, if a little bit lightweight, but he’ll not make it at Premier League level. McCleary is improving, Wes Morgan simply immense and Chris Cohen never stops running. Robbie Earnshaw is a red, is a red, is a red, etc etc, and he’s paid to score goals. Two goals in ninety minutes is a good night’s work, coupled with his ability to hold the ball up, he’s a class act. £2.6m = bargain.

On the other hand, Kelvin Wilson is still a weak link, but consistently, he’s a weak link in whatever position he plays. You see, you need players like that, players who can perform to the same standard all over the pitch.

Things are getting tight down at the bottom of the league, Southampton have suddenly decided to make a fist of it, and even Norwich have won a game, so a few more wins are needed, but I’m fairly certain we can stay up and that’s all that matters now.

On a negative side, we’ve suddenly turned into a team of cheats, sorry, taken on board some “professionalism”. Time wasting is fairly common-place, but we’ve added to that by slinging two balls on the pitch at the same time. The players have been told to celebrate goals at the corner flags to waste a bit more time. And you can tell if a player’s about to be substituted because they suddenly pop up in a position half way across Lady Bay bridge, it’s a long walk back from there.

I’m not sure I like it. Sure, it’s successful, and it don’t half wind up the opposition, but I was bought up in the Clough days, an era where Forest teams didn’t argue with referees, showed respect, frowned upon the antics of the Wimbledon’s and the John Becks of this world.

It might be successful, but like the p**s they serve up behind the bar in the Trent End, it leaves a nasty taste in the mouth.

Miserable b******s

From the Nottingham Evening Post:

Nottingham's big wheel forced into name change!

NOTTINGHAM'S giant wheel was today renamed after threats of legal action from owners of the London Eye.

The giant attraction will now be known as the Wheel of Nottingham.

Owner James Mellors jnr said they had received letters from London Eye solicitors saying their brand was trademarked.

They were warned if they didn't drop the "eye" part of the name by today, they could be sued. ……

What a load of s**t.

It’s not as if someone has pitched up on the opposite side of the Thames and has started trading as the Nottingham Eye in direct competition, is it ?

Can you see the Houses of Parliament from the Nottingham EYE ? No. Wembley ? No. That stupid building that looks like a vegetable ? No.

So what’s the problem ? Am I going to get a writ the next time I go to the opticians ? Best have a word with the company that makes those nice frozen peas I like so much before my freezer is surrounded by miserable b*****d solicitors. And the writer of the Bible had best be careful, “a wheel for a wheel” just doesn’t carry the same gravitas, does it ?

Merlin Entertainments Group, you miserable bunch of w*****s.

So, what to do…..

I’m due on the London Wheel soon, as a promised day out to one of my boys. I’ll still go, but I was going to spend £50 on two tickets, now it’ll just be the bare minimum £21. I’ll also make a point of telling everyone on there that the Nottingham EYE is better, both in terms of the view and the lack of southerners in the queue. British Airways, the sponsors of the London version, can whistle for my business in the future, I can stretch a grudge out for years, me. And I won’t be patronising any of the following either; Lego Land, Madame Tussauds, Alton Towers, Warwick Castle, Thorpe Park or Chessington World of Adventures.

Two can play at being petty, childish boggers.

Who'd have thought it ?

Derby County are giving away 1,000 free tickets for thier game against Swansea tomorrow to students at Derby UDO.

This has confused me somewhat.

Not the giving tickets away, a good marketting ploy to attract people who may not otherwise be able to afford a ticket to the match.

No, the confusion is this.

Derby has a university ?????!!!!

Who'd have thought it ?????!!!!