The final Wednesday Dispatch of 2011 sees Hayden Shaw gazing into his crystal ball and telling us the future. It doesn’t bode well for England fans. Ladies and gentleman, may we introduce to you…
Archive | 2011
If Your Football Club Was A Cow…
The many conundrums faced by mankind; is there life on Mars? Can we solve the Israel-Palestine conflict? Is Bruce Forsyth ever going to retire? But what you actually wonder the most is how one would go about comparing Premier League clubs with the bovine species. Dispatches From A Football Sofa has ‘udderly’ lost the plot and only gone and done it for you…
An Old Trafford Christmas Carol
It’s coming up to the two hundredth anniversary of Charles Dickens’ birth and it’s nearly Christmas. So this year’s Christmas Dispatch was easy. Say hello, to a famous old curmudgeon…
As the dying embers of the fire crackled and hissed, Ebenezer Ferguson clasped his gnarled hands around a flagon of whiskey and took another sip. Pinched of cheek and red of nose, he sat awaiting the fast-approaching hour of twelve; the night before Christmas morn. An hour before he had received a visitation from a spectre. His former partner, Brian Kiddisworth had miraculously emerged from an ethereal dimension to reproach and warn him to mend the error of his ways. Kiddisworth had betrayed his mentor years previously and the two men had not exchanged a passing pleasantry for the remainder of Kiddisworth’s time on Earth. Ebenezer Ferguson had cared not a jot. He had become hardened of heart and allowed personal feuds to destroy what aspects of humanity still remained within him.
Charlie Don’t Surf: How Football’s Past Could Save Football’s Future by Winston Cuthbert
Winston Cuthbert has a plan. And he wants to tell you about it with a little help from a footballing pioneer. Take it away, my good man…
It’s not often I’m actually asked for my opinion, which is why I so often tend to give it. Graciously invited to join Dispatches’ ranks, I am grabbing the opportunity to make a proposition. Seemingly nonsensical considering the world we live in today, my proposition remains a eulogy to football, mirroring the ethos and spirit of Dispatches. It is a simple yet radical proposition, inspired by the Father of Football.
I Believe In Miracles: Why Spurs Will Win The Premier League
Around this time of year we’re apparently expected to suspend our natural proclivities for disbelieving. We’re expected to believe that our bank balances are healthy when our monthly statements depressingly prove otherwise, so that we can keep the family happy by lavishing them with cheaply manufactured toot. We’re also meant to believe that a benevolent pensioner in a red suit and a white beard scales down our non-existent chimneys to reward the goodness of children across the globe. Moreover, we’re asked to believe that the Big Man sent down his son and heir to save us all from ourselves on December the 25th, coincidentally synchronising his arrival with ancient pagan festivities. Why consider the boring facts when stuffing ourselves with dry turkey and sugary puddings feels so damned good, right?
Read more on I Believe In Miracles: Why Spurs Will Win The Premier League…
One Gary Speed
I never met you. You didn’t play for the club I support or any of the traditional teams that fuel the rivalry of this game of ours. So I never formulated any strong emotion towards you. If I’m being totally honest, you were one of those players who passed me by whenever I watched a game involving you, only for analysts to point out my tactical ignorance by explaining your titanic contributions to the midfield battles that are the crux of any match. And once shown, I would quietly acknowledge that you were a fantastic player who made the best of the skills you were given.
Anyone For Tennis? by Nancy Alsop
Believe it or not, but there are some people out there who don’t actually like football. I repeat, there are people who don’t like football. Nancy Alsop is here to make the case for the non-believer. Tut.
Revolutionary Road
Another week passes and once again another manager finds himself under the overhanging cloud of impending doom and gloom. In August it was Arsene Wenger’s head being offered up as a sacrificial lamb to the ever-hungry gods of the managerial merry-go-round. November seems to belong to Chelsea’s Andre Villas-Boas. Not a week goes by without fans calling for Steve Kean’s P45 at Ewood Park and after a run of bad form, the Spotlight of Doom seems to be settling in on Steve Bruce at Sunderland. Round and round we go. Where it stops nobody knows.
The Gospel According To Sepp
Live and direct from his parish in Zurich, Pastor Sepp Blatter addresses his global congregation.
Brothers and sisters. Hear this. When I woke up this morning, I heard a disturbing sound. I said, when I woke up this morning, I heard a disturbing sound! What I heard was the wail of those who would have you believe that the souls of men aren’t pure. That a man’s heart can be poisoned by the shade of a man’s skin. Don’t be fooled, my people. The non-believer, the heathen, would lead you into a road of dangerous sanity. He would deceive you into thinking that one man has the darkness of heart to cuss and curse against another on that most sacred and hallowed place of worship, the football arena.
Some tell you that the world wasn’t created in seven days and seven nights. Others tell you we are evolved from apes. I cannot comment on this. But what I can emphatically and proudly tell you is that, I, your humble servant, having contemplated and worked tirelessly to re-pay the faith that you have placed in him, has indeed forever eradicated the scourge of Man; racism. The Tower of Babel is no more. I have brought nations together as one family and every four years they congregate to give thanks and adulation to me. For who else is capable of saving the planet from the fire of eternal damnation that is the Football Association of England?
Boys Do Cry by Felicity Cousins
“Whatever happened to Gary Cooper, the strong silent type?” lamented Tony Soprano. Well, ever since Gazza cried, the floodgates opened for one and all. Felicity Cousins ponders why emotions run high when twenty-two “little boys” take to the field.
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In Defence Of Luis Suarez by Rachael Singh
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What’s The Point Of Scottish Football?
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Captain Caveman: The De-evolution of John Terry
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Alan Davies Is Here All Week
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Liverpool Football Club, 1892 – 2012 – An Obituary
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