Classic photograph

The packed crowd (most standing), the heavy football (with the stitches visible), the heavy kit (with the crest sewed on), the hordes of St John's ambulancemen and the genius of Jimmy Greaves.

Football in the Sixties. Magic.

Small brown envelopes in smoke-filled rooms - FIFA at work

Irish attitudes to Sepp Blatter (and FIFA) are largely shaped by relatively visible matters – his derision of the FAI’s request for a replay post Thierry Henri 2009; his incredulous comments on the Luis Suarez racism ruling and his inability to kick a football (see below) while at the same time presiding over the complete footballing destiny of the global game. Ok while we might forgive him the latter, he will still be a prick in our eyes for many years to come.

And you know what - we’re not wrong. In fact if you scratch beneath the surface, there is far more damming testimony against the most powerful man in football.

We start with his refusal or at best tardiness in introducing goal-line technology. This apparently is down to the voice of the smaller (read poorer) nations who have pleaded inability to incur the costs associated with introducing it in their leagues.


You begin to wonder whether the smaller nations should have so much influence over a matter which is clearly for the game’s good.

You then look at the awarding of the World Cup’s during Sepp Blatter’s reign as President. He took over in 1998 and was responsible for the awarding of the event from 2006 onwards. Let’s track that and let’s measure it on the World Democracy Index – Germany to (14th place) to South Africa (30th) to Brazil (47th) to Russia (107th) to Qatar (137th). We end up in a nation where ruling power stays within the one despot family, where bribery and corruption is the order of the day and where basic human rights are denied to sectors of the population. Think Bahrain all over again.

FIFA has been progressively sliding down a slippery slope in terms of who is goes to bed with.

You then look at the behaviour of the FIFA senior executives over the period of Blatters reign and we begin to deduce that maybe partnering with countries and leaders of lesser repute actually suits their character. Deals involving corporate kickbacks, bribery and personal gain, and the buying of key votes amid ruthless internal power-broking are all well evidenced in the recent history of FIFA.

And why did the FIFA Executive Committee take the decision to award both the 2018 and 2022 World Cups this time out – answer because the average age of the committee is 65 and the majority of members realise they may not get elected again. Their ability to pursue personal gain and favour will be lost so they may as well conclude as many “arrangements” as possible before they go. So we end up with a World Cup in 2022 which may have to be played in atmosphere controlled stadia, where fans will be prohibited from drinking and where gays “in flagranti” are liable to be imprisoned for years.

Quite simply, as an organisation FIFA has sold itself to the devil. While it cosies up to despot rulers and multinational corporates in the interests of commerciality, tens of thousands are forced to involuntarily “re-house” in the poorer areas of Johannesburg; Nelspruit; Rio de Janeiro and those other cities which were “lucky enough” to be chosen to host new stadia.

FIFA reminds me of the Fianna Fail of old, the Fianna Fail before the clear-out. An executive committee significantly detached from the people it represents (the grass roots), trading core human values for commercial success, and run by a megalomaniac who no doubt be proven to be as corrupt as the partners he has chosen to dance with. Speed up his departure, please.

Footnote:

One of the strongest voices to date (aside from churchdoor) on this matter has been Mise Le Meas’s friend, Karl-Heinz Rummenigge, Chairman of the European Club Association, who openly attacked Blattter openly in the aftermath of the Qatar World Cup decision and associated scandal.

'I don't accept any longer that we should be guided by people who are not serious and clean,' he told the Guardian. 'Now is the moment to intervene. Because knowing something is wrong is an obligation to change.'

'It's not just the top clubs, it's all the clubs,' he said. 'Sepp Blatter is saying that he is cleaning up, but the fact that no one believes him tells you everything you need to know.

'I'm not optimistic because they believe the system is working perfectly as it is. It's a money machine, World Cup after World Cup. And for them, that's more important than serious and clean governance.'

Derrynane again - the diaspora return

From today's Irish Independent (abridged):

Descendants of the Liberator returned to the ancestral home yesterday for a family funeral.

Una O'Connell (85), who was married to the great-great- grandson of Daniel O'Connell, was buried in the family tomb on Derrynane Abbey Island in Co Kerry.

Born in Essex, Mrs O'Connell spent most of her life in London. However, she was introduced to Derrynane by her late husband Dr Daniel O'Connell in the 1950s, and she became a regular visitor to the area.

In accordance with her wishes, half of Mrs O'Connell's ashes were carried in a coffin to the island graveyard for burial yesterday while the other half were scattered on the River Thames in London.

Now in state ownership and managed by the Office of Public Works, access to the chapel is limited -- but is always open to the O'Connell family. Yesterday, in the age-old practice, the funeral cortege carried the remains across the beach at low tide to access the island.

Despite the family tradition, the Liberator himself was buried in Glasnevin Cemetery after his death in 1847, while his heart was buried in Rome.

Sit Down next to me

I sing myself to sleep
A song from the darkest hour
Secrets I can’t keep
Inside of the day
Swing from high to deep
Extremes of sweet and sour
Hope that God exists
I hope I pray

Drawn by the undertow
My life is out of control
I believe this wave will bear my weight
So let it flow

Oh sit down
Oh sit down
Oh sit down
Sit down next to me
Sit down, sit down, sit down, sit down, down
In sympathy

Now I’m relieved to hear
That you’ve been to some far out places
It’s hard to carry on
When you feel all alone
Now I’ve swung back down again
It’s worse than it was before
If I hadn’t seen such riches
I could live with being poor

Oh sit down
Oh sit down
Oh sit down
Sit down next to me
Sit down, sit down, sit down, sit down, down
In sympathy

Those who feel the breath of sadness
Sit down next to me
Those who find they’re touched by madness
Sit down next to me
Those who find themselves ridiculous
Sit down next to me
In love, in fear, in hate, in tears
In love, in fear, in hate, in tears
In love, in fear, in hate, in tears
In love, in fear, in hate

Down
Down

Oh sit down
Oh sit down
Oh sit down
Sit down next to me
Sit down, sit down, sit down, sit down, down
In sympathy

Oh sit down
Oh sit down
Oh sit down
Sit down next to me
Sit down, sit down, sit down, sit down, down
In sympathy

Down

Paris for a day

In the height of the Celtic Tiger (with thanks for photo to Mise le Meas).

Spurs 1 Wolves 1

One hundred years ago today - Scott of the Antarctic and his four colleagues reach the South Pole and have their dreams and ambitions devastatingly shattered.

The solitary frozen tent with the small unmoving Norwegian flag atop, stood as testimony to the fact that he had been beaten to the South Pole by Amundsen, the Norwegian explorer.
















We took risks, we knew we took them; things have come out against us, and therefore we have no cause for complaint, but bow to the will of Providence, determined still to do our best to the last. Had we lived, I should have had a tale to tell of the hardihood, endurance, and courage of my companions which would have stirred the heart of every Englishman.

These rough notes and our dead bodies must tell the tale, but surely, surely, a great rich country like ours will see that those who are dependent on us are properly provided for ............

For my own sake I do not regret this journey, which has shown that Englishmen can endure hardships, help one another, and meet death with as great a fortitude as ever in the past.

In failure, and despite all the conjecture over his real persona - brave adventurer or reckless buffoon - Scott remains as one of the enduring heroes in English history. Battling against the odds with fortitude and bravery and facing death with stoic resilience, dignified acceptance and a still upper lip. While our own Tom Crean was tucked up in his pub in Annascaul sucking on a pint of plain and telling jokes about the penguins.
















So when at 17:38pm I receive an email lamenting “Poor old Ian. You have to be beating wolves at home if you want to be in with the big boys.” I think not of today but of one hundred years ago, of valiantly giving it all yet not succeeding; of what might have been and what yet might be; and ultimately I think of the misery of languishing in mid-table never coming close to achieving greatness and never paying the ultimate price for trying and failing. Everton in the twenty-first century.

Vertigo - January 11th, 2012

Chelski's observations that we should at this stage be suffering from Vertigo are beginning to gain creedance as evidenced by a comparison of Aaron Lennon's pose in the top exhibit and Jimmy Stewart's in the second.

Remarkably similar.

Incidentally the guy in blue facing the camera in the top picture is Tim Cahill, who used to play for Everton. Sadly not any more it would appear.