How I nearly fell out love with football...

There are not many things in my life which are cast-iron certainties but one of them is that I love football. Always have, always will.

Or, so I thought . . .

For, as the last ball of the season was kicked this week I realised just how much the past football season had actually passed me by and I wondered if I was alone among my fellow footil fans in feeling this.

The reason I think that this has been a season that I will happily forget almost instantly is that although I still regard this as the sport of sports and a truly beautiful game, the occasional ugliness it produces has really put me off.

For this, I don’t blame the teams that I follow myself – Nottingham Forest, Tamworth FC and now Bath City if you’re asking – but the game on a much broader level. It has totally tested my patience this year.

I think it was the World Cup that first started to dent my usually never-ending love affair. Like so many of my generation who are too young to truly appreciate what 1966 meant, I have had my hopes and dreams smashed and shattered so often by our national football team that I am amazed why I still keep believing.

So, at least year’s World Cup even though I wasn’t as wildly optimistic as in previous tournaments, I still harboured the secret belief that England could go against 40 years of evidence and win the big pot. The fact that they didn’t wasn’t really that much of a surprise but the way half-hearted multi-millionaires timidly screwed up my dreams in a ball and kicked them into the South African sun left quite a mark on me.



I watched our final German capitulation in the sun at Glastonbury and a quiet voice said in my ear me “never again. It’s not worth it”.

As the season duly began my enthusiasm returned a little bit – particularly watching the ultimate David’s (Blackpool) taking on the obvious Goliath’s – but then the world’s stage intervened again and the appalling way that England’s genuine and honest bid to host the 2018 World Cup was dismissed for all kinds of reasons (none of them footballing) made my enthusiasm sink again.

To see Prince William, David Cameron and David Beckham smiled at by people who then stabbed them in the back made me think that football was sinking. And this week’s Stalin-esque ‘one man one vote’ reappointment of the always disgraced candidate in the election for FIFA President hardly helped. Football? Pah!



But......

Just as I was beginning to think that my love affair with football was going to struggle to ever reach its previous heights, I saw two things this week that reminded me why I loved it in the first place.

I was sad to see a British club lose in the Champions League final on Saturday (and that is being honest, I am no stereotypical 'anti United' bore) but I felt nothing but admiration and respect for the Barcelona team that beat them. They truly played beautiful, inspiring football. Now THAT is what I call football I thought. And then on Monday the somewhat more humble Swansea – who also try to play football the right way – became our ‘new Blackpool’ and proved that unlikely dreams can come true in this splendidly infuriating game. Hallelujah.

So, England’s multi-million pound flops, FIFA and Sepp Blatter you nearly did it.
You nearly made me fall out of love with football.
But you failed.

Roll on next season.

Learn how to Skype or write a sitcom? Why not!

Learning, we are told, should be a lifetime experience. It should not end when we finally kick off the chalk dust from school or throw the graduation cap into the air. We should, instead, aim to be learning new skills for the rest of our lives.

Crucially, those skills do not always have to be career-enhancing, they can also be life-enhancing and that is why we need educational establishments that have got the nerve and imagination to give us opportunities to learn those things we may not even imagine can be taught.

And that is why I would recommend you all to take up a bit of light reading this weekend and get a copy of the Love 2 Learn prospectus which has just been released by the City of Bath College.

In this fascinating book you can find full details of the very serious courses that can help to grow (or change) your career including accounting, building, electrical engineering, plumbing, teaching et al. But, beyond that, there are hundreds of other courses which will fire your imagination and give you an opportunity to indulge an interest or a passion alongside like-minded individuals.

For, in a commendably bold move, our innovative college has invited many local enthusiasts to teach courses in subjects that go beyond the traditional academic scope. Fancy learning how to get started on Facebook? There’s a course for that. Want to learn about helping your baby to sleep or understand- ing the terrible two’s? Yes there are courses for that. Or how about learning what it’s like to be a member of an air cabin crew, how to drum, how to Skype, how to lip-read, how to cook the perfect mousse, how to taste whiskey (and no that’s not as obvious as it seems!) or even (and I have to confess this really appeals to me) how to write a TV sitcom.

Yes, courses in all of these and more are now available at the college and before people start screaming (and sadly one or two already did on our website when we told them about this story), this isn’t costing us the taxpayers a penny. For all the leisure courses you have to pay to be on them – and they will only happen if enough people subscribe. Simple.

Personally, I think this whole concept is laudable because we all want to learn new things and meet like-minded souls and colleges should be there to provide a service to the whole community. And this is certainly what Bath is attempting to do via this exciting and dazzlingly varied new programme.

Not convinced? OK, I urge you all to pick up a copy of the book and I would almost defy you not to find something that would interest you. There are courses that last just for a few hours right through to vocational ones that last several years but there really does seem to be something for everyone – including, and perhaps most importantly of all, those people who may well have thought that school and/or college had nothing more to offer them and couldn’t really teach them anything new.

Right, I’m off to fill in my application form. I look forward to joining my fellow would-be sitcom writers on March 10, 2012.

A sensible reason to do a crazy thing - climbing Kilimanjaro

Every so often a charity comes along that really captures the imagination and far exceeds its original ambitions.

Live Aid was a classic example of a cause that raised millions of pounds – as well as a great deal of awareness – and now the Help For Heroes charity has done exactly the same.

I was reminded of the remarkable impact of this charity on Tuesday morning when The Bath Chronicle business breakfast featured Chris Kane, a solicitor from Withy King, who explained how he and 40 other people (the majority of whom are from Bath) will soon be heading to Africa to climb Kilimanjaro.

Chris had been recruited to the trek by Bath Rugby favourite David Barnes and it was clear that the motivation to support Help For Heroes was one that has really spurred him on.

The reason Help For Heroes has been such a phenomenal success – and phenomenal is not too big a word as it has raised nearly £100m in just under four years – is that the charity has no interest in the rights or wrongs of wars and conflicts but cares passionately about the young men and women who are sent away, in our name, to take part in battles and often come back seriously injured.

The Government does do a lot to help, of course, but to give these people the first class treatment they truly deserve requires vast sums of extra money – and the public has seen that and responded.

Chris spoke very eloquently about the charity and its work but, as so often happens, it was the power of the images he showed in a special film which really told the story. We saw young men – some of whom looked barely old enough to vote – bravely coming to terms with losing limbs or being scarred for life.

These physical images were easy to convey but what the film also highlighted was the huge psychological damage conflicts can produce. This was a fact most vividly brought home when Chris revealed that more servicemen and women who fought in the Falklands have committed suicide since that conflict than died in the war itself.

Help for Heroes was set up by South West couple Bryn and Emma Parry to help every one of our returning serviceman, and so each time someone puts a pound in a box it can help make those folk realise their sacrifice was not in vain.

So I wish Chris, David and all the rest of their team every success on their epic journey which begins a fortnight today in the heat of Tanzania.

For all of them it will be a life-changing experience and I hope they take comfort from the fact that it could also be a life-changing – and possibly life-saving – experience for many of the servicemen and women their superb efforts will support.

Find our more about the climb at http://www.axawealthclimb.co.uk/, follow its progress on Twitter (@axawealthclimb), or sponsor Chris at www.bmycharity.com/ kilimanjaroJune2011.

In praise of Bath's civilised politicians

Politics, as we all know, is just like sport.

It is incredibly tribal and relies on warring teams battling it out, putting the boot in and arguing over every decision before one team emerges victorious and the others complain, sulk and blame everyone else but themselves.

So there really is no difference between sport and politics is there?

Well, nationally perhaps that is the case. But, I think, not so in Bath.

For, during the election, I think I saw evidence that Bath really is an example of how you can have a very civilised, mature political debate.

I joined the Chronicle team at the count for the B&NES election for an entertaining evening that didn’t end until around 5am and I was very impressed by what I saw and heard especially as I have been to some pretty lively counts over the years and seen some extraordinary sights. My favourite was when I was in the Midlands seeing a newly-elected lady screaming at her husband “you promised me I would lose!” after she had been unexpectedly elected for a deeply-unwanted four-year term because of a shift in national public opinion. It was a moment that amused many of us – particularly those who knew she wouldn’t be our councillor.

Last Thursday night, however, in the surprisingly calm confines of the Guildhall, there was no such hysterics – just a very dignified finale to what has been, for the most part, a very dignified election campaign.The reason I think we saw this was because all the parties emerged with something.

The national pundits had said that the Tory/Lib Dem parties would lose thousands of seats as voters took their revenge on the Coalition. In B&NES, however, the script hadn’t been read and you could argue (as I’m about to try to do) that nobody really lost.

Despite having apparently unpopular policies to do with transport and Culverhay, the Conservatives suffered only a minor reverse and many of their candidates increased their own personal votes. Labour did well also to have a candidate in every seat in Bath – which is not fertile ground for them – and they had respectable results in most wards. And the Greens also shone – taking third place in some areas and proving they are a genuine force to be reckoned with locally.So if the Tories, Labour and the Greens had reasons to be cheerful, then even more so did the independent voice (well done to June Player on her spectacular victory) and especially the Bath Lib Dems.

On a night where, particularly in the north, the Lib Dems seemed about as popular as Al Qaeda, in Bath they produced a result that had the phrase “bucking the trend” stamped all over it. Their performance as a party – and that of several individual councillors who greatly increased their vote – was remarkable in the national context and must have given the beleaguered Nick Clegg some comfort on a night when he had precious little else to cheer.

Of course, not everybody really won – someone has to run the council after all – but I think Bath itself did because this was a real war but with very little blood spilt.

Civilised. That’s what it was.

Why I'm glad cassettes are still in the mix

In these days of major technological advancements – where it seems yesterday’s new invention can be obsolete by tomorrow – it was very refreshing to hear that the recordings of Friday’s Royal Wedding service will be available in a number of formats. Including, to my delight, the humble cassette.



Aah, the cassette. What lovely memories many of us, of a certain age, have of that small plastic box in its C30, C60 or C90 formats which opened up a world of possibilities for those who loved their music.



The truth is the cassette was never able to compete with its much stronger rival for purchased music – the lovely big vinyl record – but it really came into its own as a way of allowing people to create their own music and their own “albums”.

Of course, now we live in a digital arena where people can create all kinds of playlists on and off line and where the i-Pod can provide unlimited opportunities for opening up your musical collection, but just a few short years ago the cassette was the only game in town. And oh how we loved it as a result.

My earliest memory of the joy of taping was when my older sister received one of those small cassette recorders as a present. Initially the excitement was being able to use the portable microphone to hear your own voice played back (as an aside, has anybody ever thought their recorded voice sounds like the one that comes out of your mouth?). But once that novelty had passed, you saw that the real strength of the cassette recorder was to be able to tape music.




I’m sure there are whole generations of people, like me, who sat and listened to the radio – particularly the run down of the Top 20 on a Sunday evening – with their finger poised over the pause button ready to just record the songs that you particularly liked. It was never an exact science – the cunning radio DJs at the time knew exactly what we were doing and would talk over the intros to stop us pinching their precious wares – but it was a real thrill to record music from the radio and capture the tunes for free.


This then developed into creating (and I suspect I’m talking more to the male reader of a certain age) what we all lovingly called “the mix tape”. This is when you plundered your album collection and picked out tracks that fitted a certain mood and put them on to a tape that could be called upon for a particular circumstance.


You could have your “I’m angry with the world and need something loud” tape, your “I’m feeling reflective and need some nice songs” collection and, of course, (and this is what the cassette was really invented for) your “love tape”. This would be for songs when you were falling in (or out) of love during that bizarre teenage period and of course it could be the tape you even gave to your partner to show the depth of your feelings.


So, I’m delighted that the cassette lives on still – and I hope this Royal Wedding “love tape” will be one that will be cherished almost as much as the ones we did ourselves.

Prince will party like it's...1981!

I am sure we all occasionally experience that rather drowsy ‘half and half’ early morning feeling when you think you are awake but you are not actually 100 per cent sure that your wakefulness is not just part of a strange dream.

I had this experience on Tuesday morning when part of my brain was telling me I was awake but the other half was saying “OK, if you are awake then how come the news is being read by Angela Rippon and the sports bulletin by Dickie Davies from World Of Sport?”.

The moment, however, I heard that the legendary Mr Davies was talking about Arsene Wenger rather than Big Daddy I realised that it was the radio which was going mad – and not me.

For yes, Radio 5 Live was having a 1981 day complete with 1981 presenters as part of its pre- royal wedding celebrations.

This rather odd idea was evidence to me that after a somewhat muted early public reaction, the excitement levels for tomorrow’s royal wedding have really started to rise over the past week or so.As the big day has got ever closer so the level of interest in the event has grown and it all now points to being a spectacular day which will be enjoyed by millions – possibly even billions – across the globe.

In some ways I think the rather under whelmed early reaction to the day was all quite understandable. A couple of the so-called ‘fairy tale’ royal weddings in the 1980s didn’t exactly, ahem, have a happy ending and the fact that we live in challenging economic times has also made some people a little wary of celebrating such an expensive public event.

However, I hope that at 11am tomorrow, all of those doubts will be put aside and the nation will come together as one to enjoy watching the sort of spectacle which Britain does do better than anyone else.

Of course despite the radio’s best efforts, 2011 feels like a very different time to when Charles and Diana stepped out onto the balcony. There doesn’t seem to be as much bunting around and if my mind serves me well, I’m pretty certain the shops had far more royal pre-wedding memorabilia in those dim distant days than it does now. As I recall there wasn’t a house in Britain that didn’t have a tea towel or a mug bearing the faces of the happy couple but such items seem far less prevalent today.

That doesn’t mean, however, that tomorrow won’t capture the imagination. Even a few people of my acquaintance who have feigned total disinterest admit they are quite interested to see what ‘Kate’ may be wearing or which celebrity appears at Westminster Abbey. As such, I think watching the royal wedding will be a bit like watching Big Brother or reading The Sun –- far more people will do it than will ever admit to it.

So, whether you’re having a street party, attending Bath’s Picnic In The Park, having friends around or just having a lazy morning in front of the TV, I hope you have a right royal day on Friday.

And of course best wishes go to the young couple – I truly hope that the rain will stay away from the man who will one day reign...

Judging talent contests and the odd buzz from being booed

At about nine o’ clock on Thursday night there is a very good chance I might be getting booed.

This is because I will, once again, be one of the three judges at the latest round of Komedia’s Bath’s Top Talent competition which may have some teeny, weeny, relation to a certain TV contest which kicked off in dramatic style on Saturday evening.

The Bath’s Top Talent event is a fun and revealing contest which showcases the wide variety of musical and non musical talent in and around the city.

Along with Chronicle reporter Felicity Crump and the editor of Venue Magazine Joe Spurgeon, I helped to judge the previous round which saw me face-to-face with two very memorable drag dancers, a Frank Sinatra sound-a-like and several other very enjoyable acts. We were not judging in the way that the X Factor/Britain’s Got Talent judges do as the vote very much belongs to the audience but we were there to make comments and it was amazing (and a little bit frightening) how attentive people were to our words of apparent wisdom.

By and large we were able to say nice things about most people and received a smattering of polite applause on occasions. However, as we all know now from so many TV competitions about singing, dancing and entertainment, it is when you make slightly critical comments that people really start to vent their opinion.

And it is especially notable that if the booze is flowing, the boos will too.

The weird thing is – and maybe this is where Simon Cowell started to make his millions – that when you do get a boo it is actually quite an interesting (and not altogether unpleasant) feeling. I felt my fellow judge Miss Crump, for example, seemed to enjoy being booed rather too much but I can see where it can get almost addictive. After all, it is often said that it is better to be booed and vilified than ignored and some talent competition judges clearly adhere to this principle.

As such, these competitions have become the new pantomimes – and the big bad wolf villains are the likes of Simon Cowell, Craig Revel Horwood and Jason Gardiner.

I can’t help feeling it is all a far cry from the first talent competition I remember watching on TV – Opportunity Knocks. Fronted by a man who, in hindsight, was more than a little bit strange (Hughie Green), this was a show that was light years away from texts and internet voting and where careers could rise or fall on how loud the audience clapped, thanks to that highly-unscientific “clapometer”.

The change started to occur when the ultra-cuddly Derek That’s My Dog Hobson (above) fronted New Faces and we had our first experience of judges saying negative things about artists. I seem to recall there was a national outcry at times about things Tony Hatch said but as we kept tuning in just to be offended the seed of a great idea was planted. X Factor, Britain’s Got Talent, Strictly Come Dancing et al were later to watch that seed (the “controversial judges wind up audience for sport” seed), blossom into the most watched shows on TV.

So I really want to like everyone I see on Thursday night but if I don’t, please don’t boo me. Boo Fliss instead because she really likes it. Honest.