Atomic Sports Media: Common Grounds

Given the boring, boring World Series has been annoying enough to waste valuable late-night quality viewing on Five (haha... okay, maybe not), I decided to compile the similarities between two sports that, on the face of it, have very little in common. Find it on Atomic Sports Media by clicking here or here or even here, or read the article below...



So, I was thinking, what’s the perfect comparison of sport between Merry Old England and Stupidly Huge America? I had a think. And by think, I mean to say that I looked on Wikipedia at a list of sports. Having spent over eight seconds looking at words I hadn’t even seen before, I certainly knew two things: firstly, that it’d have to be mainstream; secondly, that it had to have similar basics.

Sadly, all of our good ones - and by good, I mean in the eyes of the masses - are completely different to yours. You have football. So do we. Obviously the main difference between the definitions is that our description of football is actually accurate. I’m even happy to carry that definition joke over to comparing your MLS with our Premiership. I mean, REALLY, did you guys learn nothing from the NASL? The former is a thoroughly bastardized form of the latter.

Anyway, before you all start frantically pushing Alt + F4 to close your browser because of some Limey know-it-all who seemingly doesn’t know that America would kick our arses in everything but soccer, yet still incessantly talks and talks in over-long sentences, wait. I have found the finest comparison of Trans-Atlantic sports. It will show you that we’re not two countries separated by a common language as Oscar Wilde once said, but by a common sport as well.

In looking for the link, I found something common. In true American fashion, you’ve taken out the unnecessary parts of original British blueprints, done away with any form of tradition and made it as flashy and exciting as possible. Sadly, it’s still regarded by the masses as one of your most boring sports - the very link that brought the link to my attention.

So what were widely regarded as the boring sports of the world by those young go-getting Internet types on their forums and LAN games, listening to their hippety-hop music? I did a quick check around a few message boards and the same answers came up.

“Anything to do with horses” - but horse racing, the most viewed of them all, isn’t sport, everyone knows that: it’s a thinly-veiled platform for gambling.

“Basketball. You score and then you concede. Whoever scores last wins” - valid point. I don’t even watch until the fourth quarter. Still, we got “Space Jam” out of it. That was a good film, apart from the shameless Michael Jordan montage after he went into Looney Tune Land. Then again, when the TuneSquad beat the Monstars I cried with joy. But I digress.

“Snooker, because it only has one camera angle” - true, but there’s sometimes nothing better than having no commitments, a six-pack of beer and a couch with it on the TV for hours. Besides, it’s hardly a team game and they don’t build stadiums for it.

“Golf.” - see above.

But then…

“Cricket because it’s on for five days, i.e. forever”

“Baseball, I hate it, apart from when balls bounce off of Jose Canseco’s head and out of the park for a homer”

And there we have it.

I’m surprised the link hadn’t come to me sooner in light of the World Series (I’m too busy watching the Steelers fall apart at Denver to pay much attention) and cricket’s Twenty 20 World Cup (I was preoccupied with seeing England lose in everything this week to even remember that tournament).

I’ve broken the comparisons down into handy bite-sized pieces. I would have said fun-sized, but I feel that is, and always has been, a lie. I expect a fun-sized Mars or Snickers to be at least 5 pounds, but the description does not deliver - something I aim to do. I digress.

1) Wood, balls and running

One guy throws the ball, the other hits it. Fantastic. When you hit it nicely enough, you can grant yourself a light jog in order to score points.

2) Boundaries

If you hit the ball far enough, you score more. In baseball, the home run gains you one point. In cricket, if you hit it to the boundary, you gain either 4 or 6 runs, depending on whether the ball bounces before the boundary or not.

3) Heights of athleticism

Don’t get me wrong. I’m hardly in a place to criticize other people’s athletic ability. However, one does not have to be a string bean to compete. Compared to football, soccer, ice hockey and basketball - which are generally more movement-based and potentially damaging, if a contact sport - both cricketers and baseball players alike don’t need huge muscles and 36-inch waists and below to enter.

4) No need to retire at 30

My own father, who captained the local cricket team, played until he was 49. With such low intensity play, it’s easy to do so - although obviously, playing at local level contributed to that. However, players at the top level have regularly gone on to play at 40 years old, and beyond. Sir Donald Bradman, regarded as the greatest batsman of all time in cricket, racked up a batting average of 99.94 by age 40. Even now, in the wake of the World Series, Curt Schilling, Mike Timlin and Tim Wakefield - all 40 or over – played key rolls in the success of the champion Red Sox.

5) SCANDAL

This is probably my favourite area of comparison, and it highlights our cultural differences in such a stereotypical way. Ticket-selling superstars have a personal habit of getting themselves in the limelight for all the wrong reasons. Barry Bonds - central to the BALCO Scandal - is not so much remembered for his prolific record-breaking home run total, but for his alleged drug use (‘The Cream’ and ‘The Clear’) and the purported effect it has had on his performance. You Americans and your drugs tests, huh?

Here, we’ve had two successive England cricket captains in trouble with the England Cricket Board (ECB). The first - the infamous Andrew Flintoff (known as Freddie to most people here, as his surname resembles that of one Mr. Flintstone) - was caught up in the “Fredalo” incident that resulted in his loss of his vice-captaincy. Basically, he got really drunk, tried to ride a pedalo, fell in and had to be rescued. Us Brits and our alcohol, eh?

The second and more recent incident involved Paul Collingwood, England’s current captain, who did the damnedest thing when attending a strip club for a couple of beers. Fined £1000, he didn’t realize it was a strip club until a full half an hour of attending. If naked women on poles didn’t catch his attention, it probably stands to reason why he was out on his first ball the next day against South Africa in the World Twenty20 Championship - obviously the bowler didn’t catch his eye either.

6) Us against them

Cricket and baseball both find themselves with a fan base that is surprisingly militant in their following. Cricket was, a few years ago, full of old people who were very prim and proper, obsessed with tradition and, well, British. Very British. It’s opened up in recent years, where five-day games (two innings, unlimited overs - an over amounting to six balls) would attract the “Barmy Army,” hardcore young Britons who dress up, sing, play marching band music from the stand, everything. It’s rejuvenated the sport.

Baseball is, and always has been, like that. From the stereotypical organ through the tannoys to the hilarity of Steve Bartman, baseball fans always get involved one way or another. However, the fans of these sports have a group mentality, and it leads back to the original point; baseball and cricket are, in the eyes of the masses, boring as hell.

Call it the lack of contact, the length of the game or the irregular stand-up-and-dance involvement, baseball and cricket fans tend to follow their sport and no other. I like that: it shows true fan identity. Besides, why buy a beer when you have no time to drink it? Why wait for tickets that cost a stupid amount of money when it doesn’t last? Length of a game doesn’t matter in the grand scale of things - not with other priorities in life, like getting drunk.

7) Tradition

Baseball seems to be a very British sport in America. Everything seems to stay the same, from team logos to outfits to helmets to batting styles to everything. Chief Wahoo and Mr. Met are still going strong, for example; other sports seem to tire of these facets of identity quite quickly, although I don’t think anybody can blame the Braves for dropping Chief Noc-A-Homa. You’d get shot for suggesting something like that these days.

Regardless, American baseball iconography has a huge place in popular culture and is going strong outside the USA - I don’t know of anybody who can’t recognise the Boston “B” or the Yankees’ “NY.”

British identity lies in the county you were born in. My family, for this very reason, has strong bonds with Durham County Cricket Club, the youngest team in the County Championship (formed in 1992) and winner of their first two trophies this year. Everything tied in with that is very old-fashioned - club crests are usually the county coat-of-arms, and the colours - if worn (cricket players usually wear white) - depend on those on the crest. And finally…

8) The future of the sport

Although this seems like a bit of a throwaway comment, or an obvious one to say the least, the future of both of these sports is through youngsters. Children form the backbone of the future success of both cricket and baseball - whether it’s the little leagues in America or the local clubs of the villages and towns in England. Fan bases of both sports are very family-orientated, more so than other sports. As it’s more relaxed, frequent and lasts longer, you get a better bang for your buck and a good day out.

--------------

The great irony of this comparison is possibly one of home culture: I love cricket, yet I just can’t watch baseball. I truly cannot. I suppose when you’re indoctrinated to the ways of the cricketer from birth, there’s no avoiding a love for cricket; maybe I dislike bat-and-ball sports but just feel compelled to watch it due to family allegiances. Having said that, I’m a Red Sox fan on account of having a tour of Fenway Park.

I find myself drawn to the NHL and NFL due to their emphasis on contact - the forms of sport I’ve always personally engaged in. I probably only like the NBA because young upstarts like Carmello Anthony always guarantee a bench-clearing brawl every now and then.

Still, without cricket and baseball, both British and American sports would find themselves lacking the alternative chilled out approach to competition. They both represent the traditions and balance sport needs to thrive and, to a certain extent (and particularly in the move-happy USA), survive. It’s just a bonus that to their fans, other sporting disciplines simply do not compare, and I can see exactly why - fans of these sports are a different breed; in most respects, much better.

Atomic Sports Media: Culture Clash

Given my attendance at NFL London was probably the greatest thing I've ever done in my life, I decided to make an article of it. Due to a bombardment of articles, videos and interviews during the week addressing this landmark event for the NFL and for British sports fans, it's absolutely massive. If you get the chance, please go to Atomic Sports Media and read it there or, if you're lazy, click this link here to go directly to the piece! (Incidentally, this blog's banner is a picture I took at the game...)



So here it is -- the biggest report you’ll get this season for a game involving the Dolphins. But, of course, this is more than that. Finally, 81,000 people plus myself will get their first chance to see live football without a TV being in the mix.

This took a long time to sink in with me -- it only really hit me once I got inside Wembley Stadium -- but American sports networks, Web sites, interviews and a general media bombardment truly started during the game between the New England Patriots and the Miami Dolphins on Oct. 21. It is here that the diary of events I dutifully collected starts.

And as a ploy to get your attention early on, I will advertise genuine mentions of ESPN being idiots, the incompetence of both British and American media outlets, a player that does not know what London is or where it’s at, Mexican waves, nudity and the Miami Dolphins cheerleaders (although I can not promise those last two are linked).

Also worth a mention are two of my previous articles detailing NFL Europe’s demise and a somewhat unofficial first part to this piece about sporting America coming to Britain; it really is amazing how many of those topics were thrown into the air during numerous broadcasts and writings.

21 October

It’s official. I hate NFL commentators. Before they were so bad, they were good – John Madden, a.k.a. Captain Obvious, being my personal favourite (and Terry Bradshaw, given that he’s a legend) -- but way to offend an entire nation, guys. A week before the league’s biggest experiment, they decided to spend a good half-hour mocking the British. Granted, some of it was funny… in a “so unfunny, it’s funny” way, surprisingly. The best came when one turned to the other and said:

“You gotta feel sorry for the Brits that have to watch a 0-7 team next week.” (Fair point.)

“I don’t think half of them know what 0-7 means!” (errrr…)

“They’ll be confused by the whole thing!” *cue Dick Van Dyke English accent* “Who are these blokes?”

To make matters worse, BBC Sport would play up to this by feigning stupidity later in the week.

23 October

My boss and editor of the site, David Hale, sends me a touching email that -- although loaded with class -- ultimately makes me sigh given the line-up, when originally announced, actually seemed pretty good.

“Enjoy the game this weekend, although allow me, as an American Football enthusiast, to apologize for you being forced to watch Eli Manning vs. Cleo Lemon. Really, it’s generally much better than that.”

Cheers for that reminder, boss.

24 October

And so begins the BBC’s descent into American Football. Think of, say, ESPN as a 10 for football knowledge. BBC was about a 3 before this week. Knowing its audience to have little knowledge, they lowered themselves to about a minus-2 by the Sunday evening highlights.

However, BBC’s Inside Sport video regarding the game (specifically from the Dolphins’ point of view) was good for many reasons. Although the compilations of hard-hitting tackles seemed badly slapped together by someone who just liked seeing bodies breaking (although I certainly enjoyed seeing one clip of Jason Gildon destroying Jay Fiedler), the interviews were carried off with the true class of the BBC.

First up was Dave Hyde, reporter at the Miami Sea Sentinel. “I did a column questioning why the Dolphins are going to London,” he said. “Within 12 hours of saying that I got emails and emails from England… I was stunned by the volume of emails, and I realized of course, that all of them had become fans because of Dan Marino.”

And that was genuinely reflected on the Sunday. Dan Marino is a pure icon -- the American version of our Bobby Moore holding the World Cup, one might say. The No. 13 jerseys were out in force. Marino’s legacy turned out to be one of the most popular conversation-starters during the week, and Jay Feely was happy to continue the praise.

“Dan Marino was my favourite player when I was a kid,” fawned Feely, traipsing through Dolphin Stadium. Pointing at the mural of Marino: “I love coming in and seeing that.”

Fuad Reviez - the Fuad-o-matic himself, now looking more like an ex-D lineman than a kicker - commented on his trip to London in an exhibition match, and the overall failure to win over the fans for an obvious reason: “They wanted to see the superstars. They were expecting to see Dan Marino for four quarters -- they saw him for 4 minutes.”

By this point I was getting pretty annoyed. These interviews were filmed about a week previous to broadcast, and after 7 minutes there was no mention of the Giants, the state of affairs this season, or any current player interviews. Then Wayne Huizenga, the owner of the Dolphins himself, seals the deal:

“We decided to take the best of the best, in a game which counts towards the playoffs.”

…are they still trying to kid the clueless British contingent?

Thank the Lord should he or she exist, when the downsides of this match-up set in. Working on the 80/20 principle of good and bad, the stereotypical style of BBC reporting was glaringly apparent with 2 minutes left, in which everything bad in football - aside from that STUPID FOX robot from their game coverage intervals - was touched upon.

“They raise our prices and we have one less game,” whines a Miami tailgater. “The Giants haven’t played here in maybe 10 years. Miami’s loaded with New Yorkers!”


Page 2
The BBC clarifies this concept in the only way they know how: “Imagine if Manchester United took their match against Liverpool to New York? Well, the Miami Dolphins have just sacrificed one of their eight regular-season home games.”

Then the real disenchantment hits. The first was beautifully ironic, and also exacerbated the poor quality of editing and NFL updates the BBC seemingly concerns itself with.

“So, Ronnie Brown, are you looking forward to playing in London?” He looked like he was going to cry. He probably injured himself on purpose to avoid a country too preoccupied with rain and drinking tea to concentrate on contact sports. Well, at least in the minds of NFL commentators.

Cut to the Dolphins crowd, accompanied by the emphasis on the 0-7 statistic. A small contingent of three or four fans are shouting popular phrases: “We suuuuuuuck!” “We still suck!” “We suck it!” Dave Hyde returns in light of this:

“NFL Europe might’ve been a little better than what you’re going to see right now.”

Cheers for that reminder, boss.

25 October

Sky Sports News is our only real 24/7 sports channel here, brimming with updates. And what a surprise that, when the NFL preview FINALLY comes on (at the end of the hour, no less), it’s concerned with the impact on Premiership soccer. Who does one have to bribe to get decent football coverage over here?

Eggert Magnusson, owner of West Ham United and class-A aptronym - he actually looks like a hairy egg - loves the NFL. Only because a similar move “would be good for the [British] game”.

Then there was something about the Dolphins cheerleaders meeting MPs at the Houses of Parliament - incidentally the only day where they all turned up to do some work! (This may or may not be true.)

And to add to the Dolphins’ tarnished squad, Channing Crowder reminds us why he’s got a degree from Florida, given to me through another Hale-mail mocking my future attendance of this game.

“I couldn't find London on a map if they didn't have the names of the countries,” he said. "I swear to God. I don't know what nothing is. I know Italy looks like a boot. I know London Fletcher. We did a football camp together. So I know him. That's the closest thing I know to London. He's black, so I'm sure he's not from London. I'm sure that's a coincidental name."

Cheers for that rem… ah, forget it.

26 October

ESPN’s Len Pasquarelli decides to make me feel like an MP who slept in yesterday.

“Despite a respectable No. 15 ranking in league statistics, the offense is anything but explosive. Cleo Lemon, a lifetime backup quarterback, now is the starter. Chris Chambers, the most capable receiver, was traded to the Chargers last week. And star tailback Ronnie Brown, arguably the team’s one bright spark, was lost for the season with a knee injury suffered against the Pats.”

It’s becoming as clear as crystal that the Dolphins may be the first 0-16 team in NFL history, and they’re coming to London.

27 October

Before I got the train to the South, I checked ESPN’s comments page. Three struck me as a great spread of opinion.

The first was pretty straightforward: “The job of a corporation, like the NFL, is to expand and make more revenue. By expanding overseas they are increasing their maximum total revenue and their opportunity cost is nothing compared to what the benefits are.”

Now THAT is spoken like a true American capitalist.

Now the turn for the token spanner in the works: “I am personally offended by the decision to attempt to globalize the NFL. Are we, here in America, not worthy fans anymore?”

Erm… you’ve been the only country with a competent league for the past 80 or so years.

He continued, evidently without engaging his brain: “I am disgusted. And if all those dreams of the NFL bourgeoisie come true, and there is a team outside of America in the NFL, I will refuse, from that day forth, to call myself an NFL fan. Let’s be serious, the globe is not shrinking. But your loyal fan base will if you continue to think this way.”

Yeah, maybe the NFL might become the second sport of America.

How’s about no? This fervent patriotic fundamentalism strikes me as interesting. We’re very lucky to get this game, but is it really that awful a thing to happen - a game in *gasp* Londonengland (as EVERY American pronounces it)?

The last comment cemented the same old point into the forthcoming game, and one I now use as an excuse for the amount of beer I drank that night to numb the pain of £75 spent on a ticket.

“I thought Great Britain was an ally of the U.S. Why are we punishing our allies? First we send the NHL over there and now the Miami Dolphins. Holy crap! They’ll never back us again.”

It was then that I realized that card -- such as the kind that the ticket was printed on -- was flammable. Sadly, no source of fire was available. Guess I had to go, then.


Page 3

28 October

After meeting up with my fellow NFL observers in Baker Street, one thing was scarily comforting. I’m known for wearing football jerseys most days -- I have about 20 or so -- and I’ve always enjoyed having that different dress sense to reflect one of my favourite things in life. It would lead to the odd conversation with someone wearing a Raiders cap they bought because they saw it in a Snoop Dogg video and as such knew everything about football, or a genuine fan from when the NFL was popular on terrestrial TV here in the ’80s. Nothing particularly substantial.

The pub we were in, however, was PACKED with them. Everyone was bonded in a strange sense of unity, almost like ex-pats living abroad. The silent nods went to everyone -- particularly the Steelers fans in my case (I hugged the odd one too) -- never before have I, or should I say we, felt like being wanted by other people.

THIS was what the NFL phenomenon had caused in London; not a football game, but a social bond. You weren’t alone anymore. You didn’t have idiots from a workplace or college saying how they preferred watching “proper sports” like rugby or soccer. People in the street would breeze past the huddles of fans wearing every shirt, looking at them all with an envious glare, they, themselves, now being the outsiders. Not me, though. I was one of them.

I even chatted to Ravens fans, laughed along with Broncos fans even though they’d just beaten us the week before, and even respected a person who said that Plaxico Burress was neither greedy nor stupid for leaving the Steelers. Wearing big numbers on your front and back qualified you as family, and you can never break those ties.

Use BBC logic: if you were into European soccer, and were wearing an Arsenal shirt, you would be surprised if anyone would say anything. Here, I think you’re born wearing a soccer jersey. Although very basic in comparison, the emotional and social impact on a city, never mind a person, is overwhelming.

Given everyone stole our idea of a few pints in Baker Street then the Underground to Wembley Park, the platform, and train… and station… and Wembley Way… were absolutely heaving with bodies. Every team imaginable was represented -- I even saw a Detroit Lions jersey. That’s commitment.

Ticket hawkers lined the street. Counterfeit or not, one typical American and his wife bundled through only for the man to be stopped after the woman -- he went marching off in anger to find the man who’d most likely legged it to the bank. Very unlucky.

The Game

Last time I counted, I think America had about roughly six, perhaps seven million stadiums with more than 50,000 capacity. Here we only have four - St. James Park, Old Trafford, Emirates Stadium and, of course, the most expensive stadium in world history (fact!): Wembley.

And just… well… phenomenal. I can’t sum it up any better than that - not without heavily censored yet completely legitimate profanities. Still relatively empty - only around 30,000 - we got our first glimpse of Strahan, Manning (The Lesser), Moss and Shockey - about 30 yards away from us. They looked so much… bigger on TV. Even Strahan. I put it down to perspective personally.

The cheerleaders were a welcome distraction and served their purpose well. They must be fitted with nitrous oxide - they just can’t physically stop smiling, not even in the pouring British rain.

After the band I have no interest in had finished, the national anthems bonded the two nations together formally. Although the American one wasn’t very popular (even if Jocelyn Brown was phenomenal), God Save The Queen shook the foundations. It was the first time I’d sang it at a sporting event, and what better time to do it than when you’re hosting another country without actually playing them?

The stage is removed, the dancing kids finally get lost and are replaced by the seemingly equally loathed Giants. Don’t get me wrong - they were well supported -- but they were led out by John Terry, the overpaid Chelsea and England soccer captain (and honorary Giants captain for the day), who is universally loathed by anyone in London who isn’t a Chelsea fan.

And this is where ESPN will get their heads kicked in by rugby hooligans if it ever shows its scruffy face near Twickenham. Martin Johnson -- the former England rugby team captain who led our team to win the Rugby World Cup in 2003 -- was the honorary captain of the Dolphins. After the amazing fireworks display that singes my eyebrows 14 rows back, seeing T.I. carrying the British flag and the cheerleaders all lined up to greet them, the coin toss took place.

Announced were three representatives: Martin Johnson (HUGE cheer). Lewis Hamilton, F1 rookie sensation (HUGE cheer). John Terry (HUGE boos that lasted for about a minute). But ESPN, who not only addressed it wrongly after the game but made a point of it, too (http://sports.espn.go.com/nfl/recap?gameId=271028015), happily blamed Johnno. Wrong move.


Page 4
We simply won’t forgive you for that, guys. Granted, we boo our England soccer team captain, but given we probably won’t qualify for the European Championships and he earns £125,000 a week, you might begin to understand.

And what to say about the game? It was bloody rubbish!

But just as bad, it was the best game I’ve ever seen. I don’t even mean that in an “only game I’ve seen” way either - but there’s so much you miss out on during everything I’ve experienced of the sport. If a TV screen isn’t denying me of it, it’s the Atlantic. The atmosphere was electric, and the fans were genuinely responsive. Shouting, cheering, singing, laughing, everything was jovial.

But on the pitch, the mood had been set weeks ago. The game was now merely a foregone conclusion. Seemingly, as a result, the charts hit season-long lows. Such statistics include:

Lowest passing yards in a game for Giants this season (8-22, 59yds)
Lowest passing yards in a game for Dolphins this season (17-30, 149yds)
Lowest receiving yards in a game for Giants this year - Jeremy Shockey, a TIGHT END (3-26)!
Lowest receiving yards in a game for Dolphins this year - Peelle (6-42)

Commentators blamed the turf: “They’ve gone from a 5/8ths- to a 1-inch cleat.” They blamed the rain: “This is becoming an old school game in this weather.” They blamed jetlag. Basically, they blamed anything that wasn’t the players. We all know that footballs get slippery, footing is lost, and that it’s just not as safe to play in. Hell, the Giants played in brown uniforms in the second half. Still, I really couldn’t care less: fact is, Eli Manning had won five games straight before this game, and the Dolphins are looking like the worst team to grace the NFL. This game was the flagship of future NFL dealings, and Manning’s only touchdown came when he ran the thing into the end zone.

In fact, there’s two ways to prove he was in no way arsed.

Cleo Lemon was better than him by nearly three times. Cleo Lemon! That guy! And he threw for a touchdown!

Tom Coughlin said, when asked if the trip was worth it: "I'll be glad to give my opinion to the commissioner with the issues that came up.”

A no from the Giants coach would have sufficed. Evidently he’d not shown the effort as a leader to do anything more than win. By three points for goodness sake! 13-10 is not a healthy score against winless opposition for a team challenging for the playoffs. Angry at the conditions which he should have been completely aware of months ago, Coughlin’s simply not giving the people of London a game, and could have indirectly - or directly - instructed his players to treat it as… how can we put it… NFL Europe?

I know it’s mere formality - hell, it’s institutionalized in the anti-climax that is pro football - but 2 minutes of kneeling is NOT what London wanted. It was so lackluster -- boring, almost -- the glimmer of hope from the Dolphins proved to be the only true football highlight in the game. Granted, turnovers mean potential field goals, but an institution like the New York Giants should not be in a 3-point-lead situation anyway. It just seemed like Coughlin was taking aggressions against Roger Goodell out on the thousands in the crowd, like myself, who spent hard cash for this spectacle. How? Boring football.

Brandonn Jacobs was very impressive though. After Eli missed Burress a few times, Manning decided to palm it off to give the Giants their highest rushing total of the season (23-131). Fair play to the guy, but it doesn’t disguise an ultimate inadequacy in his and Coughlin’s passing game. Burress missed two easy receptions, too, but he should have never left Pittsburgh, the silly boy. Weather should not be a reason if you play half of your games in the Tri-State area. Miami’s only strength is in pass defense, and even then they’re 16th!

Regardless of all of this idiocy on the part of the Giants, alongside the inadequacy of the Dolphins, the game was truly a sight to behold. The biggest cheer of the night, or at least in the top three with the Dolphins’ touchdown and the end of the British national anthem, was the unlicensed nudity.

I didn’t understand what was happening at first. Picture the scene: kick-off for the second half begins. The umpire suddenly dashes towards the centre of the field, kicking away a black piece of clothing. Then everybody stands up while I’m fiddling around with my camera for the kick-off, only to look up and laugh. The “umpire” was now naked but for a football-shaped jockstrap, dancing wildly before breaking into press ups. The police were nowhere to be seen and security and players alike looked on as the crowd cheered wildly. It also (I assume) inspired the first of many Mexican waves in the stadium.

After it had all finished, the Mexican waves were replicated down Wembley Way as queues were at a standstill and bored. As I piled onto the Underground train, conversation was immediately sparked up about the future. Not the game itself - everyone knew each other had enjoyed it - but rumours of the Jaguars playing the Patriots next year, or the future of the NFL in Britain and beyond.

Even after getting back and watching the highlights - which jumped straight from kick-off to the missed field goal to the first points on the board (it really was that dull), and hearing a great line for a Dolphins DE to his teammates: “Hi, I’m Jason Taylor, what’s your name?” - it came to me.

The underlining significance to this entire experience is that, amidst a weekend of clichés, uninformed broadcasters, crap commentators (got another one for you: “Do you think these Brits want Lemon with their tea?”) and a fundamentally flawed final game, it was the atmosphere of collective enjoyment that ruled in the favour of the NFL. The question over the amount of fun had would have been fruitless - those on the train were concerned with the future, and the future only.

And if the NFL comes to Wembley again, I know at least 81,000 people who want to go again - including me.

Monkey Business: Behind Enemy Lines

Issue 86 dealt with our surprising success in League One, and came off the back of a 4-2 away win at table-toppers Leyton Orient. As I write this, Hartlepool were shambolic against bottom of the table Walsall at home, losing 1-0. Can't make that up, can you? Anyway, below is my article about the trip to Elland Road - having to sit, of course, in the home end. With thousands of Leeds fans. And we got beat. Bah.


The Ginger Poolie had trouble getting a ticket for the Pools game at Elland Road, so was forced to sit in the Leeds end...

It’s the biggest league game of my Pools-supporting life, and most likely hundreds more. The battlements had been prepared since the long drive home from Rochdale.

I like to think of my experience of Elland Road as entirely different to all other Pools fans. It’s for pretty obvious reasons, to be honest. I was sat in the East Stand, on the halfway line, half of the way up. I was, for want of the complete opposite, a Leeds fan that day. Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right, stuck in the middle of a fury of Leodensians with my brothers.

It really wasn’t out of choice, might I stress. Upon hearing of the one-per-fan principle at the ticket office, financial constraints (category A?!) and the fact I couldn’t get down to the ground as I was starting out at college, my brother was kind enough to do the honours from his workplace in Leeds. So, there we were at 12pm on Saturday coming out of Leeds station with the perfect seat - we just had to tone down the accents (something I find unbelievably impossible to do) and sit on our hands should we score.

The Leeds fan experience is a weird one. Underneath the railway bridge was a line of buses - two double-deckers and a regular coach, swarming inside and out with the enemy. Walking towards it, it transpired that the back bus was selling bus tickets from adapted side windows.

So there we are, three North-Easterners hiding our faces (don’t really know why, it’s not as if Hartlepudlians look any different) while 60 fans - most with LUFC tattoos, even the women and kids - chanted songs all the way to the outskirts. We must’ve looked pretty shifty on account of our hand-over-mouth whispering. Still, we survived, making it off the bus to the electronic ticket gates (whose idea was that?). The distance between the ground and buses, even though we were with another 100 or so Leeds fans, seemed completely devoid of human interaction. Fans were quiet, none were near the gates, and the steps up to the stand were silent.

Getting into the concourses, everything picked up. The hundreds of fans made the cavernous indoors seem actually suitable, unlike those of Rochdale, Darlo and Hull. After sinking a few pints - for match day nerves, I’m sure you’ll understand - we made our way to our seats.

Cracking they were, too. Perfect view of the action, but being a Town Ender, sitting disgusts me. Like Hillsborough, there was no leg room if you’re over 6’0”. I was already angry at the surroundings, until I started hearing the singing.

Oh, the singing.

My first reaction was to join in. Standing up and breathing in deeply, I forgot where I was and feigned a crap impression of a cough before turning left. 2,000 Poolies - still taking their seats - were making their presence known in something that genuinely made me feel proud. The flags of The Yakker Branch and Escape Goat tied up in full view, the AC Milan-style away kit was dominant, and the singing carried fantastically. It would for the rest of the game.

Click the picture to read the published article!

Sadly I had the feeling from the off that we wouldn’t be able to win it. The crowd was immense and, full respect to Leeds, their fans have stayed; the Revie Stand was absolutely rammed. It must’ve been one hell of a pressure on Pools players; even the East Stand were singing. It didn’t stop a two-way sing song, seeing “You’re not famous anymore” go up against “2-0 in your Cup Final”. The latter song was pretty funny though; I guess you need to make a joke out of the fact that it’s your own fault that you’re so low in the Football League.

Obviously we all know about the game - the most one-sided defeat I’ve seen. We absolutely ripped them apart. It made for some funny quotes from several people, but one really vocal bloke changed his mind more than Rafa changes the Lesser Pool’s starting 11. What follows is an accurate transcript of his yelling in order:

“Come on lads, this lot are s***!”

“Why are we defending, COME ON MAN, PUSH UP!”

“That lad in the red boots ain’t bad.” (tell me about it)

“Lucky that we scored off our first push of the game.”

“This lot aren’t half bad, actually.”

“We should be dancing round this lot.”

“How are we winning 2-0?”

“FOUR MINUTES OF ADDED TIME?! Jesus Christ… they could score 3!”

“Great win.”

“How did we not get beaten there though?”

“It’ll be a long way back to Hartlepool tonight.”

Cheers mate! The Leeds fans were certainly worried for that last 30 minutes though. They even had time to praise our fans, who they thought kept the team going.

I didn’t feel bad after the game. My brothers and I figured it was due to where we sat. Although we didn’t have our Poolie brethren alongside us and we couldn’t sing, or cheer beyond the polite anti-detection clapping for their goals, the Leeds fans were scared. Some went as far as to say that we were the best team they’d played (which includes Southend, Forest, Tranmere and Luton). We took solace in the fact we’d genuinely played well, and didn’t have time to feel sad given our surroundings.

For such a big game, and to quote a much-overused phrase, the better team lost, but for guts and tenacity, we were the real winners. Third in the table after 5 games suits me fine.

Atomic Sports Media: National Football League's European Vacation

I got tickets to NFL London! How good is that? By way of celebration, I wrote probably my longest piece yet for Atomic Sports Media. Read it below, or click here or there to get to it on ASM!


Finally, the moment my life has been building up to has arrived. After 21 years and four months, God has been gracious enough to allow me into the inner circle of Heaven. On October 28, I will be one of 90,000 fans watching the first NFL game outside North America at Wembley Stadium in London.

More than 500,000 people applied for tickets in March. I had no emails regarding the first and second lottery-pick rounds. Fast forward (or rewind, I guess) to September 6, 2007, probably the happiest day of my life. How so, you may ask? A pretty obvious set-up has deflated my impact, but I’ll give you an accurate transcript of my response to the beautiful email I received that day.

“Dear NFL fan,”

Hello NFL.

“Congratulations!!”

What have I won, a chance to buy sale items at RBK.com?

“You have previously told us that you would like the opportunity to purchase tickets for the Miami Dolphins v New York Giants match at Wembley Stadium on Sunday 28 October 2007, in accordance with the NFL's ticketing terms and conditions.”

Yes. Under three email addresses. Three of which broke my heart on two separate occasions.

“NFL UK and Ticketmaster are delighted to inform you that you have been given the opportunity to purchase tickets for this historic event!”

[expletives deleted]

“You are therefore entitled to buy up to 4 tickets to the game. In order to buy tickets we invite you to visit our ticketing website www.nfllondon2007.com at 10:00 BST on Wednesday 12 September. […] Tickets will be available on a first-come, first-served basis. There will be more applicants than seats available, so please purchase early to avoid disappointment. On May 16th, when the first batch went on sale, 40,000 tickets were sold within 90 minutes, and the second sale saw more than 10,000 tickets go in a similarly short amount of time.”

Bollocks. Big problem. I was in college on that day, at that time, without Internet access, learning shorthand. I knew that ASM colleague and partner-in-crime Jon Bellwood would be most happy to join me, so after a trip to his house and the setting up of a Ticketmaster account, he would represent us, and two accomplices, in our ticket purchase.

It was 10:03 a.m., Wednesday, and my phone starts going. I dash out of the room and answer. “Your details aren’t working, mate.” Double bollocks. After the fastest and most quickly resolved argument in my life, we find a second course of action. Five minutes later, my phone’s beeping. It’s a text from Jon.

The words “WE’RE GOING TO WEMBLES!!!” made me squeeze my unmentionables so hard to stop me both yelling in happiness and/or doing a lap of honour in the classroom. Might I add, sports fans, that the tactic is remarkably good if you want to reduce your manly bellow to a squeak and your galloping run to a shuffle; even then, you’d have a problem getting out of your seat to do it.

As my first article for the site I wrote about the collapse of NFL Europe. As a review of the game will no doubt be the ultimate conclusion and wrapping-up of the success of the event, I’ve found myself considering the following points now the dream is finally a reality, not only for the NFL, but for American sports on a whole.

1) New York Giants vs. Miami Dolphins?!

I know this sounds ungrateful. Hell, as long as they’re throwing the ball forward, it’s better than the sports I already have to watch with a ball that isn’t round, right? But really… I know that the Dolphins and Giants are nice sounding teams, but when was the last time they were actually good? The last time the Dolphins won the Divisional Playoffs was 1992, and they haven’t been in a Super Bowl since ‘84. Which they lost. Obviously the Giants did great in 2000, but the last time they were world beaters, Lawrence Taylor was still playing.

I probably deserve a slap given that I’m a beggar who’s wanting choice, but if you’re trying to promote the game internationally, wouldn’t you, as NFL Commissioner, at least try to get two flagship franchises of particular significance over the last five years? The others that made the shortlist, to my memory, were my beloved Steelers, the Saints, Eagles, Cowboys and Packers. Any of those five, at the moment, are more promising than the current choices. However, the league evidently thought that the greatest tie would be the one that sounded good when people used to watch the NFL here on a Sunday in the ‘80s. Fair play to them, I guess.

I’m not complaining though. The tickets have been sold. Some of you may remember that I myself have one. Hell, the Browns could play the Lions and it would still sell out.

Okay, maybe that’s an overstatement.


2) If it’s already sold out, why aren’t more games being scheduled for Europe, and for more sports?

I remember reading, a couple of years ago, about the L.A. Kings planning on coming over to Europe to do play a game or two - a plan that never came to fruition. If this NFL match succeeds in its aims, will the American sporting nation make a more concerted effort to stretch their boundaries? I know what you Yanks are thinking. You have your sports in your country, we have ours in, well, the rest of the world.

Even cricket is more popular in a larger amount of countries at international level than baseball and football put together. Then there’s soccer, of course. My beautiful soccer. That’s pretty much the universal sport - any country, any race, either gender.

I think the ticket sales stats given out by the email from NFL UK prove the selling potential of sporting franchises elsewhere. As universal as soccer may be, American sports would have to make up for their pseudo-cult status by tailoring their pulling power to the most obvious nations. For example, if the NFL plays another game, it would most likely be Germany given the NFL Europe venture was predominantly there until 2007; the Olympiastadion in Berlin holds 75,000. Then again, you could go all-out and aim for the Nou Camp in Barcelona - former home of the WLAF’s Dragons - and get close to 100,000. Either way, fans are willing to travel even if the host nation is unconvinced.

The NHL would run into problems though. They would have to spend a lot of money to create their own stadium as there really isn’t that much available in Europe, discounting Scandanavia and Russia (and really, would they go to Russia?). Like back in 2001 during The Cold War game between Michigan and Michigan State at Spartan Stadium, they’d have to adapt a field to get the maximum amount of people to watch. Even then, it would have to be two amazing teams to really pull in the crowds. And 75 percent of them wouldn’t see the puck.

And the MLB? They wouldn’t stand a chance. I don’t know of a single baseball diamond in Britain, or any leagues in Europe. Our version of it is cricket - a game which, to the masses, is a long and boring stick and ball game - although that’s another argument for another time!

The NBA would probably have the most luck after the NFL in hosting a game, as it’s pretty popular in several countries (particularly on the Mediterranean Sea). However, with the schedule meaning they have to play 600, maybe even 1,000 games a season (seemingly), the strain of traveling would be an immediate disadvantage to the participants. Both the Dolphins and Giants get a bye week after their trip to London, so it’s safe to assume that an NBA game would have to make similar adjustments to their schedule.


3) By the same token, would European sports try and make an impact on the American stage?

This is a tough one. The major European sports were, last time I checked, soccer, Rugby Union, soccer, Rugby League, soccer, soccer and soccer. And cricket.

Which of those could potentially sell in an American market? Soccer is on the upsurge. David Beckham’s various injuries have curbed the enthusiasm somewhat, and if we sent over Arsenal to play Manchester United at Giants Stadium or FedEx Field I have no doubt that the place would be filled. Would it actually happen though?

The Big 4 over here in the Premier League - Manchester United, Chelsea, Liverpool and Arsenal - all hate each other. It’s pretty much accepted fact that in a country so small, rivalries are easy to come by. However, all teams play each other twice - once home and once away, and games such as these serve as cornerstones of income (and fan fanaticism) for the teams. Although they could pull it off, it’s highly unlikely that it would ever happen – home-field advantage is a genuine saving grace. Having said that, with the USA Women’s soccer team dominating the Women’s World Cup, it could spark another bit of interest in the nation.

I think rugby would probably fail. The old joke over here, when I express my love for football, is that it’s “for girls who need pads to stop themselves getting hurt.” Obviously it’s a fatally flawed argument given the rules of rugby, and after playing both I can safely say that you NEED the pads in football to walk away from tackles. It would certainly be an interesting concept though, sending over London Wasps to play Leicester Tigers or another European team like Toulouse or Munster. It would never happen though, and the pulling power isn’t there. I don’t think even the current Rugby World Cup is getting much airtime on TV in the States.

The only way it could succeed would be to pit the Super Bowl winners against the Heineken Cup champions in a pair of role-reversing games. I think it’s happened before, but not on a particularly grand scale (and I think the rugby boys won). That would NEVER happen. I can’t see Peyton Manning going into a tackle with Lawrence Dallaglio. American players are just worth too much.

I have a funny feeling that these questions, and more, will be answered after October 28. Hopefully I can answer a few. What I am hoping for, above all, is a game where the points are flowing and not solely through field goals. Given both the Giants and Dolphins are 0-2 as I write this, it may actually turn out to be a dogfight of huge proportions. Either way, I hope you’re watching the game on your TVs; you’ll see the pulling power America does, can and will have over the sporting minds of Europe. If this hits the mark, I don’t think there’ll be any stopping commissioners from all sports questioning the financial and marketing gains of a European game.

After all, sports are a business. THE business.

Atomic Sports Media (blog): Confessions of a Lower League Soccer Fan, part 1: David vs. Goliath

I've just started blogging for Atomic Sports Media as well as here. I figured that it would give me an escape from consistently big articles and let me vent my thoughts - perhaps frustrations - about my favourite sports. I've started doing Confessions as a series of writings about Hartlepool United, partially because that's what comes first in my sporting life but also because I hope that people - even if it was just one - take an interest in it all too.

Read my blog here or below...



So, it comes to this. My team, the once ‘lowly’ Hartlepool United, facing up against the fallen giant, Leeds United. Leeds, having only been in the Premiership in 2004 and the UEFA CHAMPIONS LEAGUE SEMI FINAL in 2001 (a fact I feel I must shout given that I simply cannot comprehend this team facing my own), flew down the divisions after a poor business investment did not pay off. Thinking that they could get away with it, Leeds management duly put all their eggs in one basket - the pay-off being the Champions’ League title bonus - only for Valencia to duly crap on Leeds 3-0 in the semi-final second leg in front of 53,000 fans in Spain. From a great height.

Oops!

So here we are today. Leeds, deducted 15 points before they kicked their first ball (financial irregularities do this to you), are now on -3 after four games; 4 straight wins. Hartlepool, who have just been re-promoted to League One (the third tier of English soccer, behind the Premiership and Championship), are on 9 points from four games - three straight wins after a loss at the beginning of the season.

With both team scoring the same amount of goals - 9 - the two in-form teams will square off at Elland Road, Leeds’ 40,000 all-seater stadium in Yorkshire. This is, without doubt, Hartlepool’s biggest ever League game in the modern soccer era.

Could I get tickets, though? Could I hell. Luckily my brother works in Leeds, and he was able to secure three tickets - one for me, two for my brethren - in the Leeds Family Stand, i.e. the home end. With my hands secured firmly underneath my arse and a roll of duct tape over the bottom half of my face, I should be able to hold back the screams of happiness should Hartlepool overcome this lot.

The gravity of the situation is unparalleled. Hartlepool have already dispatched Oldham, Doncaster and Port Vale - three teams who were challenging for promotion the season before. Oldham, in fact, were in the playoffs and we destroyed them 4-1 in my first match of the season at Fortress Hartlepool.

A win away from home at Leeds United would be phenomenal. Morale boost and 3 points in the bag, our team would feel unstoppable and our fans would be bouncing about for weeks to come.

With a win yesterday at Chesterfield (or CHEATerfield as they’re known) in the Johnstone’s Paint Trophy (which I think is sponsored by Disney too given it’s a joke of a competition), we’re on a roll. With the strongest team I’ve seen in my entire life as a Pools fan, I think we may just be able to do it.

If you see Pools have won and I don’t ever write again, you’ll know I died - happy - at the hands of irate Leodensians whilst chanting “Hartlepool, la la la, Hartlepool, la la la!”

Atomic Sports Media: Familiarity Breeds Contempt (Greatest Sports Rivalries - Hartlepool United vs. Darlington)

Below is my crack at an underused area of Atomic Sports Media - the "Greatest Sports Rivalries" page. Given I am intrinsically linked to what I consider to be the greatest sports rivalry, I decided to represent the ongoing battle between two North-East teams - Hartlepool United and Darlington F.C.. After a lot of research and research through football messageboard users (including John Phillips from the brilliant Hartlepool fan database In The Mad Crowd), I compiled this run through the history of the two teams and uncover some startling similarities. Read the full article by clicking on one of these words somewhere.

Forget the silently composed Bjorn Borg and the endlessly whining John McEnroe. Disregard the Red Sox and the Yankees and their ridiculous brawls. Ignore the former USSR and the USA’s tireless Olympic hockey escapades. Overlook England and Australia’s cricket shenanigans (not that I expect most of you to focus on the latter anyway). There is no rivalry like what I am about to describe to you - no rivalry at all. It encapsulates what celebrated competition between two teams is all about. It’s not in the NFL, NHL, NBA, PGA, MLB or MLS. It is not found in a North American city. It is not found in any city. It is, however, found in a region of England that I happen to live in, and involves the team I so dearly love, and another I generally regard as the team of Satan himself, should he or she exist.

Ladies and gentlemen, let me fill you in on a, no, THE Association Football rivalry of England: Hartlepool United versus Darlington F.C..

Doesn’t sound too promising for the average American reader, does it? Or most English readers, for that matter - but bear with me. In describing this battle of the giants of lower league soccer, I hope to convey how the little man in a quaint English pub in the North East of England is just as important to the beauty of sporting rivalry as the thousands who turn out for the likes of Manchester United, the Chicago Bears or the New York Rangers.

Apologies in advance to any serious sports-based socio-cultural analysts. My bias towards my beloved team may come through unintentionally in the upcoming description. Given that I am defined in most of my friends’ minds as a fanatic fan of the blue and white and a general hater of all things black and white, please forgive me for my prejudices. Unless you’re a Darlington supporter, to which I point and laugh at you for your inferiority.

As we stand here in 2007, the current record between the two teams (rightfully) puts the best team on top (oops! I’m being biased already). Since 1922, Hartlepool (or Pools) and Darlington (Darlo) have played a whopping 145 games, with 60 wins going to Hartlepool, 56 to Darlington, and 29 being a draw (not a concept Americans are familiar with). In the League - excluding cup and playoff competition - Pools have played Darlo 134 times - that’s the fourth most regular derby game in the country since soccer records began, placing just after Liverpool vs. Everton, Arsenal vs. Tottenham and Manchester United vs. Manchester City.

The key to their rivalry is very basic – the two teams are only 20 miles apart. Any teams growing with each other are bound to want to outdo each other, and on a (assumingly) cold day in the early 1920s, this competition kicked off, with two 0-0 draws in the days when hooligan wasn’t in the dictionary and you needed a shirt and tie to enter (a trend that seemingly continues well into the late 1960s, according to an archive photo of a Hartlepool game crowd I saw recently).

It isn’t as simple as that, though. The amount of striking similarities in the context of nationwide soccer between the two clubs is phenomenal.

For seasons in the bottom division of the English Football League, Hartlepool have enjoyed 71 of 86, and Darlington 72 - only beaten by ONE team in over 92, Rochdale (with 73!). Hartlepool and Darlington’s average League position is 80th and 81st out of 92, respectively. Four of the eleven players that made the all-time Darlington XI also played for Hartlepool, and Darlington’s first ever player to get 100 goals in a career with them was born and bred in Hartlepool (hardly surprising, really…). You can’t make it up… my beloved Hartlepool literally do have an evil, crappier twin in Darlington.

With neither team ever getting above the third division of soccer in the newly reformed Football League (since 1958) - even though the third is now referred to as League One to make us sound a little better - Pools and Darlo - to the likes of Chelsea and Manchester United - are mere table scraps. To one another, they are the personification of hatred. The kind of hatred that causes the Cleveland Police to circle Victoria Park - Pools’ home - after a game in 2006 with a helicopter, as well as dispatching around 300 policemen on the street between the away end exit and the train station.

Before addressing the present, however, there was one match on Saturday 25th March, 1978 which typifies - perhaps substantiates, in many people’s minds - the animosity between the two teams. Luckily, Hartlepool United’s chief statistician John Phillips of www.inthemadcrowd.co.uk was on hand to gladly describe it:

“I guess the most notorious Pools/Darlo game was at Feethams (Darlington’s home ground) just two days after Pools fullback Dave Wiggett had been killed in a road accident in a car driven by team-mate Bob Newton. A fair number of Darlo fans chanted through the minute's silence before kick-off and the game was a very bad-tempered affair. There was a running battle throughout between Derrick Downing for Pools and Darlo's Lloyd Maitland. Downing was eventually sent off, and Maitland further infuriated the Pools fans by throwing away his black armband. Red cards were pretty rare in those days. It was only Pools' 12th since WW2, and was only the third time in Football League history that a side had won away from home after having a man sent off. A 17-year-old Keith Houchen - who would go on to manage Pools - got the winner.

"Billy Horner - Pools’ manager but also a player for Darlington from 1970-74 - pulled no punches, saying that the offending Darlo fans were "a disgrace to their club, their town, and the human race".

You can’t get more of a basis for hatred than that.

Nowadays, things are different. Hartlepool’s Victoria Park - or Church, as I like to call it - only houses 7,691 fans, with just under 1,000 of those reserved for the away supporters. Although the pitch is regularly compared with a fairway at Augusta or St. Andrews - winning countless grounds-keeping awards - it is surrounded by two average stands (one of which has iron bars to lean on and no seats, where I happen to stand) and two pretty dilapidated ones. Sound carries well, and I can hear a goal being scored from my house 1½ miles away in the rare event that I miss a match.

Darlington F.C. owned a regularly flooded stadium called Feethams, which was bulldozed in 2003 to make way for a field. This was after a (genuinely) convicted felon, George Reynolds, bought the team, having amassed a fortune in the kitchen furnishing business. He built them a new stadium housing 25,000 fans, even though Darlington gets a regular attendance of 3,000 or so, even now. Promising them Premiership soccer in five years, his reign came to an end in 2005 after imprisonment for tax evasion, having been arrested in his car with his trunk stashed with £500,000. The club went into administration but was saved by local businessmen and fans alike; I hate Darlington, but not enough to want them to fold.

As much as I may raise eyebrows by making the club sound like textbook Brazilian soccer corruption, I tell you the absolute truth - and this is regularly used as ammunition in songs in Hartlepool games - even when we aren’t playing Darlington.

Songs, might I add, are the backbone of fan involvement and a true base for our rivalry. A good 75 percent of Hartlepool songs are anti-Darlo. They include “We Hate Darlo”; “Shoot the Darlo Scum” (to Que Sera Sera); and, of course, the all-time family favourite “S*** on the B*****ds Below”. Although they sound evil and brooding, they are generally taken in jest, and have mirror versions in the other end (e.g. “Shoot the Poolie Scum”).

In between the singing in this game, an intense fear is found in the atmosphere. Like an atmosfear (Ha ha ha). Quite like a response from a pun as weak as that, the average fan’s demeanor is serious to the point of anger. Any challenge is immediately screamed at, shown a two-fingered salute, or causes a surge of bodies angrily pushing forward. As soon as several fluid passes are strung together, your team is playing the best soccer of their life. The same passes in a previous game would have been gently encouraged, but here it is almost like a D-Day assault. Should the team get within 10 yards of the opponent’s goal, crisis mode ensues. Pray for your ribs if you’re leaning against a bar and a goal goes in; cover your ears if you don’t like obscenities and you’ve just conceded.

The wonderful thing about the rivalry - for me at least - is that I haven’t seen Darlo beat Pools in more than six years. The last game, at their cavernous stadium, ended in a 0-3 win for Hartlepool, including one of the best goals I’ve ever seen (which you can view through my profile). Sadly I couldn’t make it due to a capacity cap on the 25,000 all-seater stadium, in effect making it a 10,000 seater (and making 15,000 seats purely ornamental). Regardless, 3,500 Poolies were bouncing around as they saw the better team triumph.

And what now? Sadly, the rivalry is on hold for another year, at least. Hartlepool were promoted as League Two runners-up, ironically breaking the club’s unbeaten run record against Darlington during the aforementioned game (with the run ending after 21 games). Hartlepool also broke more than seven other records, including most wins without conceding (seven, to tie with the national record) and most consecutive scoring games (27). Darlington missed out on the playoffs and as a result, Pools have to wait for Darlo to join them (as I’m damn sure we won’t get relegated).

As much as I loathe Darlington, I would rather lose in a derby game than be in the league above them. Rivalry is what it’s all about - without it, my team, anyone’s team - would suffer for it.

Actually, I take that back. I never want Pools to lose against Darlo!

(with thanks to John Phillips of In The Mad Crowd and Hartlepool fan contributors from The Poolie Bunker)

Monkey Business: The Boy is Back in Town

Following my articles last season, I again was published in this season's first Monkey Business - Hartlepool United's fanzine. Issue 85 covered the aftermath of promotion and the high hopes our fans have for the upcoming season back in League One. I've included photo captures of the cover and the article itself; click on the picture to have a look!

The Ginger Poolie has returned to Hartlepool after a few years away, and is looking forward to another season of success

What a season eh?

Now that I'm back from The People's Republic of Kingston-Upon-Hull, I can't wait to restore my weekly following of Hartlepool United.

I had to spend countless weekends camped in front of Sir Stelling's superb Soccer Saturday with Pools World blasting out of my computer while my housemates blabbered on about how great Arsenal and Aston Villa are and how insignificant Pools were (even though I informed them in March that at least our season hadn't ended yet).

Doing a final year degree, and having spent most of my money in the previous two years, I found it extremely difficult to get to games (strategically organising trips back to God's Country to fall on home game weekends and the like).

I probably saw the least games in a season since I started watching Pools, and it happened to be our record-breaking year. I just couldn't believe my luck. Worst thing was, out of the 14 games I saw, 8 were losses... and we only lost 10 times in the season.

Trust my luck. I see us fail at the start and fail at the end. Pardon me for sounding defeatist, but two of my three worst moments (obviously the way home from Cardiff being the other) happened during the magical 46 of 2006-7.

Firstly, my feelings after Shrewsbury panned us 3-0 at home. I nearly left 10 minutes from the end, and I've never left early. I was seething. It was truly awful. Luckily my article didn't get published in the following week's edition of Monkey Business (mainly due to the fact so many other people were spitting blood at similar issues).

The second, however, was one entirely new to me (and no doubt many other fans, if they shared a similar experience). Losing away to Barnet to end the winning streak drove me crazy. I'd actually FORGOTTEN what it was like to lose.

Click the picture to read the published article!

To think that after the way we'd played, we lost to a Mickey Mouse club like that lot. And, to a certain extent, I knew it signalled the end of our dominance - the spanner in the works to shake the confidence of our lot.

However, our second-from-last fixture was one of the most memorable I've been to. Rochdale was possibly the most ludicrous game I'd ever seen. From a pitch that could only have been bought from Basra, to one of the dirtiest teams I've ever clapped eyes on, that Saturday in Greater Manchester was just unbelievable.

Starting in high spirits with 3,500 fancy dress Poolies in attendance, the place was bouncing. Until about the 2nd minute, anyway. What followed can only be described as a shambles.

My favourite moment during the Rochdale game was probably when Monkhouse (or Bob) rolled the ball along the floor to Barker (or Ronnie) who was 6 yards away, and the pitch was so bad that Barker had to head it back to him.

Or when Doolan kicked a lump out of Porter, then scraped his studs straight down Monkhouse's leg so badly that I could see the marks from the back row of the away stand (causing Bob to violently - and as a professional wrongfully - lash out).

Ronnie impersonating Dimi on the goal-line was just bizarre. Memories of the beginning of the season were cemented by the missed penalty.

When we eventually went up, staying consistent and opting out of silverware, I was strangely disappointed. I think my experience of Pools last season really did that for me, as I was only there for the undefeated run in spirit.

I don't even think we bottled it - we DID give Walsall a 15 point head start after all - but we deserved much more recognition. We laughed off League Two and showed it for the waste disposal facility it is, alongside our fellow relegated brethren. Apart from the MK Dongs, but who cares about them?

With some genuinely quality signings over the summer, our biggest worry now seems to be picking a best 11, as there are at least 16 players who could do the job.

Although I remain apprehensive, I think we may shock League One again. Now King Danny is in charge and all traces (apart from Bullock) have been removed from the awful Sc** era, we can do it.

In closing, although last season for me was painful live yet amazing on the radio, I think my presence in the Town End may not be as frustrating as last season. Although the pessimistic superstition and repeating factors of no silverware and an end of season crumble are in evidence (and spell out a similar fate to our previous spell in League One), I can safely say that I feel like we'll stay for good in the third tier now.

Unless we go up again. Am I jinxing us by saying that?

Atomic Sports Media: Cursed? (Tennessee Titans preview, 2007-8)

In my final article for Atomic Sports Media's preview of the 2007-8 NFL season, I got to grips with Nashville's Tennessee Titans, giving the weakest team of the three I covered an analysis I was proud of, particularly given that I knew close to little about them before writing it. A few days of intensive research brought me the closest to the essay writing days of University since I left - in good and bad ways.

I'm very pleased with it - please visit Atomic Sports Media or the AFC South page by clicking on the relative words in this sentence in a fashionable interweb way. If you're really lazy, I have put the article below!

And for everyone else: part two of the awful adverts topic has been released, as has the factual position of the centre of the universe.

This can't be good for Tennessee

Vince Young, Madden NFL 08's cover star, had an amazing rookie season: NFL Offensive Rookie of the Year and his first Pro Bowl, 552 rushing yards, which probably makes him the most mobile quarterback in the NFL at present, and for the first time in a long time in Tennessee, a quarterback was leading the Titans to a few wins. Using a rare talent like Young's, the Titans hope to improve upon that record this year as their star quarterback continues to grow.

With two competent tackles in Roos and Stewart, Head Coach Jeff Fisher, alongside Norm Chow, will no doubt play upon Young and WR Brandon Jones' rappor. If they know what's good for them. After all, what other passing choices has Young got? Orr was shunned last season regardless of his high rating in practice, and two additions in the draft in this position make it clear which area is of certain weakness. Of course, Vince Young is still passing at under 50% completion. Jeff Fisher, who turned a 0-5 team into an 8-8 finish, will have to prove his worth.

With Peyton Manning's Colts no doubt storming the AFC South in 2007, the Titans will need to use all of their talent to secure a spot in the playoffs. One player who won't be helping them, for the most part at least, is the very, very silly Pacman Jones. Pacman's strip club antics and his run-ins with the police since joining the NFL outnumber his interceptions and served him with a highly-publicized season-long ban and him apologizing to fans, saying he "will do everything in [his] power to regain (the fans') trust and respect".

Luckily, with a strong linebacker corps (hello, Keith Bulluck) and experienced players such as DE Kyle Vanden Bosch, the Titans are relatively well equipped defensively. They're going to need to be; if you've ever watched the Titans' defensive line, you'll know that they're hit-and-miss.

Even more worrying is looking at the Titans’ schedule, which includes the Broncos, Bengals, Saints and Colts. Uh-oh. Who thinks it's pain time for Nashville's finest?

BEST-CASE SCENARIO:
Young improves on accuracy and the WRs actually catch. With the Jaguars and Colts in the same division, it seems a slim chance that the Titans could make the postseason; 9-7 would be a success, giving the Titans their first winning season in four years.

WORST-CASE SCENARIO:
Young still remains unreliable in the passing game and becomes the latest victim of the Madden Curse. Rushing and passing lines dissolve into the ground, with the defense crumbling alongside them (spending most of every game on the field). The Titans rename themselves the Oilers due to “Titans” being false advertising. Then they'll probably move to Los Angeles. I mean, SOMEONE has to.

Atomic Sports Media: Big Ben Needs Big Comeback (Pittsburgh Steelers preview, 2007-8)

In the second of my three articles on the futures of three NFL teams for the 2007-8 season, I gladly took the role of Steelers reporter as my favourite team in the NFL gets the treatment on Atomic Sports Media; read the article on AFC North in full by clicking here (I'm on page 4 of 4)!

Roethlisberger needs to bounce back from a tough
2006 for the Steelers to be in contention

Did Ben Roethlisberger recover from his helmet-less bike-crash escapade before last season? Yes, and apparently very quickly, letting all Steelers fans (including myself) breathe a sigh of relief. However, with Big Ben becoming the King of Interceptions with 23 passes to the other team in 2006, one may have questioned whether he recovered to his 2005 season standard.

With an interesting personal life, including a substantiated rumor that he's dating Heroes star Missy Peregrym (the lucky devil!), Big Ben’s focus must remain on his team, as he is the fundamental key to the Steelers’ success. Pressure does not get to him, as Super Bowl XL proved; if he gets his head in the game, there may be no stopping him.

The other topic du jour around Steelers camp will be Mike Tomlin's appointment as head coach. Although untested at the highest level, the former Buccaneers and Vikings defensive coach seems to be a great replacement for Bill Cowher. His clarity of judgment and intelligence in relation to football is seemingly unquestioned by critics in the news, and so his approach to his new team will prove to be an interesting AFC talking point.

When one door closes, so they say, another one opens. Joey Porter's move to the Miami Dolphins will worry many fans, but with two potential outside linebackers in Lawrence Timmons (OLB, Florida State) and LaMarr Woodley (DE, Michigan) added in the first two rounds of the 2007 NFL Draft, alongside existing strength in depth, the Steelers are well prepared. Besides, Troy Polamalu's four-year contract extension will keep the Steelers’ best defensive player on the roster for the foreseeable future. The Steelers’ defense is as haunting as the folklore has always made it out to be. Be warned.

With Ken Whisenhunt now at the helm of the traditionally woeful Arizona Cardinals, offensive coordinator duties now fall at the feet of Bruce Arians. With the consistent Hines Ward and developing star Santonio Holmes handling wide-receiver duties, and young Willie Parker, another rising young star, who had no problem filling legend Jerome Bettis' boots in 2006, the offense is very competent. And with guards like Alan Faneca, a Pro Bowler for the last six years straight, the Ravens and Bengals will be wondering what the Steelers have lined up.

The Steelers still need Roethlisberger to give the ball away first, though, and that may be a problem. If he’s tossing downfield to Ward or handing off to Parker, the future looks bright. If he’s putting the ball in the hands of opposing DBs, it could quickly turn into a nightmare season in Steel City.

BEST-CASE SCENARIO:
The Bengals and Ravens are overturned by the Steelers, with Tomlin creating a new image for Pittsburgh after long-time coach Cowher’s departure. A finish at the top of the AFC North gains them a place in the playoffs, probably losing out in the Divisional round to the Colts - themselves proving a point since their last title meeting in 2005. Anyone else remember Big Ben's last-gasp tackle?

WORST-CASE SCENARIO:
Roethlisberger fails. Miserably. Charlie Batch gets more game time but, and regardless of his impressive plays in 2006, is too late to save the flailing Steelers. The impressively strong Ravens and Bengals laugh off the opposition, leaving the Steelers in third… again. Unless the Browns suddenly turn out to be amazing.

Atomic Sports Media: Cream of the Crop (San Diego Chargers preview, 2007-8)

I was asked by Steve Schaefer of Atomic Sports Media if I wanted to cover any teams for a full preview of the upcoming NFL season of 2007-8. Being a huge fan of American Football and wanting to extend my journalistic experience, I chose the San Diego Chargers, my own beloved Pittsburgh Steelers and the Tennessee Titans.

Here follows my preview of the AFC West team, San Diego Chargers, in part 3 of 8 of ASM's NFL Preview 2007-8. You can read the article directly by clicking somewhere around here (I'm on page 4 of 4).

Even having Norv Turner as head coach can't
screw up this team...or can it?

The Chargers were a pleasure to watch last season, and their random collapse in front of the Patriots seemed baffling. So baffling, in fact, that they did one better in the bafflement stakes by firing former NFL Coach of the Year Marty Schottenheimer. This is possibly the thing that strikes most people as the make-or-break tactic employed by the historically unsuccessful Chargers. Will it move them forward, or back?

Although this may scare many Southern California fans, one cannot hide the strength of the team that new coach Norv Turner, fresh from the offensive coordinator's job with the 49ers, has to play with. Ten players, including OLB Shawne Merriman, TE Antonio Gates, K Nate Kaeding and LT Marcus McNeil made the Pro Bowl (more than any other team last season), and the offensive coaching background of Turner may be crying with laughter at the options he has in front of him.

Of course, no Chargers preview would be complete without a special mention for the visor-wearing hero that is the 2006 NFL MVP, LaDainian Tomlinson. The former TCU running back smashed records like he did defenses, including 31 touchdowns in one season, 28 of those being rushing TDs, and 186 points scored. His speed and strength in his role seem unmatched, and it wouldn’t be surprising if he broke all of his own records this year.

Philip Rivers' season was marred by the injury that forced him out of the Pro Bowl and may worry fans into thinking he may be injury prone. But when you're surrounded by superstars on the offense, you could really have anyone there who has some semblance of ball-throwing ability. People should give him his due, though; his fourth-quarter comeback rate was the best in the NFL last season, so pressure isn't something that gets to him.

This pressure seemingly gets to the defense and receivers though, as seen in their shocking, last-gasp loss to the Patriots in the Divisional playoffs. With Wade Phillips at the Dallas Cowboys and veteran Ted Cottrell calling the shots, the latter must emulate the former to keep the defense strong. Although it has a near-perfect line and linebacker set, the latter parts of the depth chart and their secondary may trouble the back of Cottrell's mind should injuries occur.

BEST-CASE SCENARIO:
Chargers use their resources fully and simply win Superbowl XLII, doing what they should have done the season before.

WORST-CASE SCENARIO:
Errors at the beginning of the season, and perhaps a couple of losses, lead the Chargers to revolt in the locker room against their new coach and constantly compare matters present to their old coach, Schottenheimer. With the Chargers setting an NFL-best 14-2 season previous, this team has a lot to live up to.

Atomic Sports Media: The Other Side of the Pond

May I first say thanks to Atomic Sports Media for giving me this breakthrough. My first article went up last night. Please, visit their site and read my article over this copy if you can; if you want sports reporting, go to their top notch sports site! :)


I visited Amsterdam in late June, during the last ever World Bowl game, played between the Hamburg Sea Devils and Frankfurt Galaxy. I was lucky enough to see the game in my hotel, a game in which the Sea Devils dominated, winning 37-28.

The game was actually quite entertaining, particularly given that it was the highest-scoring World Bowl in its 15-year history. What was far from entertaining, however, was my quest to find Amsterdam Admirals memorabilia in the city itself. After looking in every souvenir shop (and believe me, there are HUNDREDS), I traveled to the Amsterdam ArenA, the Admirals’ home ground. Much to my own personal dismay, even they had nothing. I would have to call the team’s merchandisers to order anything I wanted, which required a Dutch address and a waiting period of 28 days.

As wild a tangent as this may seem to an article concerning the demise of NFL Europa, it certainly highlights something: although the National Football League was losing €40,000,000 (or $55,072,000) a year funding its developing players in their Spring league, it did not seem to fully commit to the concept of fully integrating a fan base.

This was the only thing that seemed glaringly apparent at first, but I was to learn more in the following days. After all, I’d be damned if I was going to leave that country without an Admirals baseball cap. So, during the rest of my vacation to Amsterdam and afterwards, through my originally tiny demand, I met remarkable people who supported or were involved with NFL Europa.

“It wouldn’t surprise me if they knocked NFLE on the head,” said my hotel’s barman, an Irishman formerly from Dublin. “I came over here with an eye on the scores, then became a massive fan. Attendances have always been low. I’ve never seen the ArenA more than a quarter full - there’s never more than 12,000 there.”

“Why, though?”

“Because it’s crap.”

Lo and behold: four days later, the league officially folds.

And it was crap. I looked back on World Bowl XV and remembered the poor yardage, the strangely low amount of first downs per team, and the average (at best) passing game. I think the absence of the real NFL had a profound effect on me - at least, that I would watch any wrong-ball, regardless of ability, that wasn’t rugby.

I call it wrong-ball because I’m English, if you hadn’t guessed already; I find this nationality of mine also plays a large part in my general distaste for how NFL Europe was run, and why many Europeans may have felt the same way - in effect dooming the American mindset in a different climate from early on.

Although it may sound like a crass stereotype, American sports - to the average European’s mind - are littered with team movements; examples being the Quebec Nordiques moving to Colorado to become the Avalanche, or the Los Angeles Rams being relocated to St. Louis (both, coincidentally, in 1995). My own beloved Penguins were under threat of being moved to Kansas City or similar due to financial pressures; and although I have never been to Pittsburgh (yet), I felt this was soul-destroying.

A team I did follow, however, was the Scottish Claymores. Or, should I say, the Hamburg Sea Devils. At least, that’s who they were replaced by. The British football fan base was already crippled by the loss of the London/England Monarchs in 1998 and the loss of the Claymores sealed the deal. Although I am well aware that the movements were not franchise-like (in that the upper management did not transfer abroad), many British and European fans certainly felt this to be the case, and this was reflected in the poor attendance. Only one soccer team has moved, to my knowledge, in Britain - Wimbledon FC to Milton Keynes, 60 miles away (and that’s a long way in England for a sports team!). What happened? 30,000 fans to 5,000 in six months. They were ‘jovially’ renamed Franchise F.C. and universally hated by everyone. Oops!

This theory of movement being ultimately detrimental to a thriving fan base seems to be supported by the fact that the only original European WLAF team of 1991 to have survived the duration - Frankfurt Galaxy - was the only team to average more than 25,000 fans per game, weighing in at an average of 33,043 in 2007. Only Rhein Fire and Hamburg drew more than 20,000 in the same year. Established areas will do well; constant movements and league reshuffling forces fans to ask, “So, which joke outfit will we be playing this year?”

If only the NFL had taken Europe seriously after dropping the Mickey Mouse North American teams (Raleigh-Durham Skyhawks, anyone? Ohio Glory?! You know them!) by expanding the European venture to more than six teams. I know that if more established cities had been approached, it may have had more life in it. Birmingham, England for example; Paris, France; Rome, Italy; areas with a strong tradition or love for contact sports (okay, scratch Paris maybe…). There would be more games than just ten and it would make the postseason more competitive.

I think it is this year’s events that have highlighted the potentially untapped audience of football. More than 500,000 requests were placed for the NFL’s trip to London, a between the New York Giants and Miami Dolphins. So much so that fellow ASM writer Jon Bellwood (a close friend of mine) and I couldn’t get any. Great. Maybe if the NFL tried to put that much effort into making their European concept that interesting, fans would have overlooked the lower standard of play. Besides, the amount of wasted talents on show in the lower parts of the depth charts of NFL teams who never see a play all season could at least be loaned out, resulting in benefits for both sides.

Never mind though, eh? It’s all over now. And good, too. At least this way I can get to watch an NFL game in Europe I want to watch (if what the NFL promises will come true, and more games will be scheduled for overseas).

Oh, and my pristine Rhein Fire and Frankfurt Galaxy jerseys will sell for an absolute fortune on eBay!