The Football Season.

seems to start earlier than ever, and many of us, like me, have not even had our summer holidays. I sense that there is a lack of enthusiasm around this year. Our early demise from the World Cup may be a reason but I sense that there are more worrying factors at work.
 Football was traditionally a working class game (see the brilliant piece by J. B. Priestly below) and yet the so called guardians of the game regard the fans as second class citizens and the media as God with more money to be made from Murdoch's millions than Joe Blogg's modest yet over-priced contribution. Fans no longer relate to the the cast of millionaire world superstars who have more loyalty to their agents than any particular club they happen to be playing for. And the owners are no longer life long supporters but Governments or corrupt businessmen who have made their money from pornography or terrorism. The Red Knights, who want to buy Manure, masquerading on their steely yellow and green decorated chargers are nowt but  city slickers led by the odious parasite of the game Keith Harris, who would have done better keeping his hands stuck up a ducks backside than in the tills of the clubs that he has filched for fixing them up with new owners.
The F.A. have abdicated their responsibilities to nurture the game at the grass roots level and donated most of their funds to a string of useless of Chief Executives and England Managers. Meanwhile the Rochdales and Hartlepools of this game who used to survive on transferring some of their young talent to the top clubs have lost this source of income and have only their true football fans to rely on to stop them from going bankupt although I fear that many more will disappear in the seasons to come.

St. Andrews where the new meets the old.

I am indebted to Mirkwood at Singing the Blues  for the following. Every Blues supporter will understand where he is coming from, "I start my 56th season as a Bluenose with the same degree of pessimism as the other 55. If we don't get relegated it's a bonus. If we lose a game, well it wasn't a surprise. If we draw a game it's a bonus point. If we win I shall be dancing in the streets. If we score a goal I will smile. Two goals I will celebrate. Three and I will check to make sure ceefax is working properly. Four goals and Mrs M will have to ring for an ambulance. If we are not last on Match of the Day I will ring the Beeb and enquire after Mr Liniker's state of health. If we get to Wembley I will be astonished, but I'll be there. If we do as well as last season I shall be very surprised. I we finish above them over yonder I will be ecstatic. If. If If. Just like the other 55. That's what makes being a Bluenose so special. KRO "