West Ham v Chicago Cubs and a book you MUST read!

Here is the book you must read. I’ll explain later and you can borrow my copy if you like!

WELL….. I did something I never normally do on Saturday afternoon. I turned the TV soccer off with 20 minutes to go. That’s right, the same weekend the Premier League set a new record for goals. I bet you can’t guess which game? Newcastle v Arsenal. The gooners were cruising with a 0-4 lead and I figured ‘time to load the washing machine…’  Who knew that Alan Pardew (yes, the ex West Ham Coach) would turn his Jordie team around having sold their main striker and nick 4 goals to steal a draw. Come back Pards – we love you now.

I have walked away from only one live game in my life – at Upton Park. West Ham were losing 0-1 to some bunch of idiots and I decided to leave early. You know, beat the rush n’ all that. Walking round the back of the old east stand DeFoe stuck a late equalizer in and the roar of the crowd told me all I needed to know. I remember watching England v Hungary at the old ‘Wembley’. Terrible seats down behind the goal and the only magic was watching Lineker make amazing runs across the pitch. England scraped a draw and I was with a few tennis coaches (clearly a mistake to start with). They wanted to leave FIFTEEN minutes early. I nearly cried. Wars have been declared, fought, won and lost in less time than that. We all know how long Mr. Clough (The Damned United) said it takes to score a goal. I could, therefore (albeit physically impossible yet mathematically on the cards) be missing 900 goals. I compromised. We stood at the top of the stairs watching England hold onto the draw. Then ran for the tube. I never took them again.

The other time (and yes, I know I am digressing a little here) I went to Wembley in the evening was England v Argentina. AND I was with a friend from Argentina. Again a draw, but a great game and a night when England wore those great cherry red ‘thick’ shirts. That was the first time I really understood why Gary Neville always looked at the ground, when playing for England during the national anthem line ups as the camera runs across their faces. He couldn’t look up and sing – he was too emotional. I got it that night. Neville retired this weekend. Cut from the same cloth as Stuart Pearce I think.

The magical moment at the Argie game was not the match itself but walking out after the game. The old Wembley had a wide pedestrian walkway down and then up to Wembley Park tube station. It was around 10pm, dark and cold as several thousand of us walked behind mounted police. At the underpass the police stopped us – the station platforms were full and we were the next round to go in. There was a cold silence as we all stood, 4 thousand of us with 8 or 9 police on horses. Suddenly someone shouted: “I’m Spartacus!”. Silence. He then said: “come on…..I’m Spartacus!” Slowly the crowd responded with shouts of: “NO, I’m Spartacus”. The police just sat and looked at us. Oh well, I may see a copper smile one day.

OK – back to the story. Even Inter and Roma managed 8 goals, 4 of which came in the last 30 minutes. West Ham? Couldn’t even score one against those muppets from Birmingham. I call them muppets freely as I have actually never met a Birmingham City fan in my life. I suspect they are all clones like those Stormtroopers from Star Wars without the white suits, guns and generally high level of marching skills etc.

My depression reminded me of a conversation I had once. Not an argument, oh no, not with this chap. Just a conversation. It went like this…

(me) “So West Ham are a club that people like because they play good football and have a good history, a bit like the (Chicago) Cubs…”

(him) “Oh, I don’t think so. The Cubs have far more fans than West Ham and are more popular.”

That was it. I backed off from my (typically when someone stamps on the Hammers) next comment….

(me) “MATE, do you see the tattoo? Do you see it, MATE? There’s only one thing worth doing with a bat at Wrigley Field and that’s sticking it……etc” 

You see my point I suspect. Anyway, I did some thinking on the Hammers v Cub thing so here we go. Now, Chicago is about as big as London – but there are only 2 baseball teams whereas London has over 20 soccer teams with at least 6 in the Premier League. Everyone in the world plays soccer. Last time I checked more countries were affiliated with FIFA than the United Nations. So lots of people know West Ham and last time I checked no one was playing catch with a ‘mitt’ on the beach in Rio.

Anyway. West Ham United v Chicago Cubs

Why are the two teams similar?

1)       They lose a lot. ‘I’m forever blowing bubbles’ clearly should be sung at Wrigley

2)       Cute location, lots of people walking to games

3)       Plenty of hearty cheering despite results

4)       Terrible food and beer at both locations

5)       Perfect grass at both locations

6)       Old and somewhat historic stadiums

7)       Usually full attendance despite no chance of a win

8)       Both teams have players who drop the ball a lot

9)       Tendency to lose badly in especially important games

10)   Lots of time spent in bars post match to drown sorrows

Why are the two teams different?

1)       The Cubs play 4,000 games a year so clearly can’t be bothered

2)       You can drink your weak beer IN your seats at Wrigley, which helps on bad days

3)       The Wrigley bathrooms make a cell toilet in Guantanamo Bay look 5 star

4)       We don’t bother singing the National Anthem at Upton Park, we sing BUBBLES

5)       People don’t swear at baseball. Nor do they abuse the opposition.

6)       It’s cold all the time at Upton Park.

7)       West Ham players spit for a reason, rather than just to look cool or hard, like the Cubs

8)       There are no cute girls at Upton Park

9)       We fight people after the game at Upton Park

10)   There are travelling fans singing abuse at us at Upton Park, which is desired

OK. I do like the cubs and have seen the likes of Sandberg, Sosa and the guy ‘with the nearly profane last name’ hit home runs. Baseball can be like soccer. We too will still for a long time and be prepared to see only one goal, but the refs don’t wear masks and only the goalkeeper wears gloves.

Hammers v Cubbies – a winner? I’ve no idea. But all three of my kids can sing ‘Take me out to the ball game’ and ‘I’m forever blowing bubbles’ – priceless.

Just for kicks – if there was a depressing moment at Upton Park and we sang some kind of ‘seventh innings stretch’ it would be this:

“Get me out to the Boleyn; get me out to the pub.

Buy me a lager and a bar snack, I don’t care if I ever go back.

So its 3 points down the drain old mate,

The Hammers never win big games,

For its ‘oops he dropped it’ and they scored

Once again…”

And the book? It is very good book and has tremendously interesting perspectives and analysis of the game across the world. As an Englishman it was hard to get past the first chapter entitled ‘Why England loses and others win….’

Don't ever buy this book. However bad the cabin fever is...

Don't ever buy this coaching book.

More on that later...

Cabin fever is starting to set in after three days without school. It is pretty cold outside and even a good old 1970’s orange ball is not enough to entice me outside for a kick around. Indiana is cold – despite being further ‘south’ than London, really bloody cold. However, 14F (-10C) on a crisp clear day is miles better than a cold, wet and windy day on the south east coast without a tree for shelter in site.

This has brought back memories of soccer in the wet and cold. I moved through several phases of ‘cold management’ throughout my playing life. And in summary (and proving I am struggling with the been inside for a long time thing):

Stage One: No control whatsoever. Cub Scout Soccer.

These were the early days before I knew what cold was. They didn’t let us play in the cold. Foggy, yes. Frosty, maybe. Freezing, no chance.

Stage Two: Shut up and get on with it son. School Soccer.

I wore a strangely mesh-like white shirt that was three sizes too small. My forearms stuck out of the shirt and it never stayed tucked in at the waist. You did not have anything extra if on the subs bench. I clearly remember playing a game over on Canvey v Cornelius. Drainage issues on the reclaimed land (thanks Holland) meant the ball was forever in the ditch. It was a grim, soulless, windswept place. Weak goalkeepers often never cleared the penalty areas with goal kicks. I remember watching the winter storm ride east up the Thames valley while drifting aimlessly out on the right wing. It started raining, then sleeting. It was thoroughly miserable. As the sleet hit us sideways I remember the ball being rolled diagonally across the box about 15 yards ahead of me. All I had to do was move my arse and stick it in the back of the net, but I didn’t. I was too cold and that memory has lived with me all my life. Ok, therapy time over.

Stage Three: The thermal t-shirt. School soccer onwards.

Now I was in business, thanks to a nifty purchase by my mum. The ‘ribbed for extra warmth’ shirt was the ticket. My upper body was warm and suddenly life existed. No help with the rest of your body. I remember a cold day v Park School. The keeper cleared the ball during a mêlée in the penalty area and it hit me right in the nuts. As the ball dropped I poked the ball in the back of the net. It wasn’t until we reset at the halfway line the pain started to set in. Colder might have helped that day.

Stage Four: Bicycle shorts. College onwards.

We all thought we were the business with our black lycra undershorts on. That’s real lycra you know, not cheapo Woolworths special stretchy material. It was a fashion statement and the question was how far did you have them sticking out below your shorts. Didn’t do anything for your chances of reproducing however and the girls were more interested in 100m men’s sprinting on telly now.

Stage Five: Upper body v Lower body. The Borough Rovers Days.

There was couple of years where regardless of thermal t-shirt or undershorts, I experimented with warming up on cold days with either extra bottoms only or an extra top only. At the end no real decision either way. That could be because it rained most of the time so whatever you wore was soaking wet – or because key sections of my memory were lost following the post match analysis (which loosely translates as ‘drink at the rugby club-oh its curry night stay for a few more beers-and its karaoke night too, well you should have said and yes I’d love another pint of whatever the hell I just drunk 6 pints of).

Stage 6: The all-in-one. Rayleigh Town and retirement.

Now this was the holy grail of winter outfits. I recently saw an ATT man working up a pole with one on the other day and he looked cozy. This was cozy. In fact, so cozy it really forced you to think twice when deciding if you should take one of those ‘as a sub I am warming up in the hope you, the coach, are thinking of putting me on’ runs. It was Antarctic proof. I mean market them to penguins and there is no need for all the standing around for half the year. The lack of a personal bathroom facility built into the suit was a downside, but it was supremely warm. Too warm in fact. And cozy, yes really cozy…

Stage 7: USA

Who the hell plays soccer outside in the winter? I now play indoors. I have recently discovered the venue; Off The Wall Sports actually strips about 5% of the available oxygen from the air and sells it off. My lungs feel like we are playing in Nepal. Temperature is no longer an issue. The problem is those games at 10:25pm. Now, I could start on that issue….but will spare you the ‘classic red cards through time’.

Like most outdoor sports, the climate during which the game is played has an impact on styles of play. The English game is fast and there are similarities in Scandinavia etc. If you don’t get moving you freeze. Southern Europe and warmer climates have played a slower game. Less need to get warm and more importantly to pace yourself in the heat or humidity. South American countries rarely win the F.I.F.A. World Cup when it is held in Europe. South Africa hosted during their winter and at the same time zone and Europe. Despite ESPN et al’s attempts to sell us South American magic post USA exit, only one team, Uruguay, made it to the semi-finals. You should put money on Brazil or Argentina for 2014. Brazil is hosting and I’ll be surprised if a European country win.

One would hope a windy and cold country like England would produce a fast and skilful game played on the ground. Maybe the muddy fields counter that theory. Unfortunately for many years the English game was plagued with ‘longballitis’ and the main tactic was pump it up for the big lump upfront to knock it in. It works when defenders lack the skill to control the ball as the errors from the long ball pressure build up. Much of this ‘style’ was created following a statistical study by Charles Hughes of the number of passes leading up to a goal. Most goals are scored with one touch or less. So, errors, corners, free kicks, penalty kicks all drive the data in that direction. But the F.A. made the mistake of assuming less passes = more goals. Tactics became pump it forward and that led to a lack of technical skill development.

As I mentioned at the start, don’t buy this book, unless you like classic ‘Roy of the Rovers’ style volleying technique from Kevin Keegan:

 Of course you know I am going to mention West Ham at this point – but it is relevant. The Hammers style has never been about the long ball. It may help to relieve pressure at times, enable an ‘out of position’ defender to be exploited or allow a strong forward to collect, hold and wait for his team to move and support – but there is no real quality. It’s one of the reasons England hasn’t won the World Cup for a long time, and probably wont for a long time to come. Now, if every club in England followed the same system as the Hammers Youth Academy then maybe. If you are interested in finding out what does work it is worth looking into the system of coaching at clubs like Ajax in Holland.

That, of course is another entire blog.

So, what did we gather from this cold / long ball blog? I am not sure really. I can tell you I do not wear undergarments designed to keep me warm while playing soccer any more. I am a ‘soft’ indoor soccer player who complains to my good friend Mark Thacker each spring when we do have to play on that ‘cow field’ outdoors at Eagle Creek. Many of my memories are of cold, wet and windy locations, which is ironic as I am from the south east of England. Traditionally the driest and at times warmest spot in the country.

Just for kicks, here are the five places I have never, and hope to never play soccer in England. This is entirely based on temperature and rainfall. The fish & chips may be great but don’t bother to pack the sun cream. Dress for a visit to Pluto / Monsoon and you’ll be quids in.

1)      Grimsby

2)      Hartlepool

3)      Workington

4)      Sunderland

5)      Morecambe

Sorry to residents of these towns. I know you all hate Southend if that makes you feel better.