“Have you stopped writing?” I was asked in the pub earlier this week. It’s been a quiet time on the blog front, mostly because I’ve done nothing of much interest. No point writing just to fill cyberspace. Two home matches with routine wins, brilliance at Blackpool and, by the look of it, a weekend for many that will have taken years of the lives of their livers, an away-day robbery at Luton. There are better places to read about the details of Forest matches than here. Anyway, just to prove I’m still alive and kicking, this piece is little more than a few random thoughts…
When I say I’ve done nothing, I’ve been quite busy online angering Man City fans by suggesting that not selling out an FA Cup semi-final at Wembley is a bit of a poor show. To be fair, I do get the current economic hardships and the insanity of a semi in London, especially on a day with no direct trains. The gist of most of the replies was that this is just what happens when your team so routinely has big matches and the empty seats were, in a strange twist of logic, actually a reflection of how big and brilliant a club they are. It doesn’t matter really though in the great scheme of things. Whereas… the minority behaving objectionably around Hillsborough does matter. Again, there are better places to read about that and I’ve tIred of it of late. Having said that, if I’ve tired of it, I can barely even imagine how incredibly wearing and offensive it must be to anyone connected with LFC. I’ll be continuing to work with others try to get Forest to be a leading light in the fightback against this increasing, vile trend. After all, if any club and its supporters should ‘get it’, then it’s ours.
Just to round off the Hillsborough bit for now, Zagger and a visiting member of the 1FC Köln contingent were up in Liverpool for the anniversary last week. We were kindly invited to join the gathering on the Kop and a small function at Hotel Anfield afterwards. As ever, the welcome was warm and the people kind and generous. Some fantastic characters met, especially the two LFC Tour Guides who entertained us so well in the Arkles. Thanks to all concerned.
(Left, HSA flag bearer Jay realises that Germans just do it more efficiently and retires!)
Zagger likes to keep himself in shape, sort of, and has been supplementing an obsessive love of cycling with a few bad-weather trips to the gym on Wilford Lane. There, almost without fail, can be spotted a little coterie of ex Forest players of a certain vintage, notably Robbo, Frank Clark and Liam O’Kane. The gym, for these fellers, seems to amount to chewing the fat and downing coffees, rather than partaking of anything energetic. And why not? Recent fun seems to have centred around winding Robbo up by getting strangers to ask him for match tickets, esp for the LFC match). “Go on, ask Robbo for a ticket. He loves it.” Apparently, he doesn’t! Robbo is also seemingly the joker of the pack, classics such as “My mate told me he’d failed his Aboriginal music exam? I asked him, “Didgeridoo it?””. It may be an urban myth - or a suburban myth, it being in leafy West Bridgford - but word is Robbo recently won the gym’s ‘member of the year’ (steady on, missus!) award for the astonishing number of visits he’d made. This turned out to be on account of his daily coffee visits, multiplied up by him signing out and back in every time he Went out for a ciggy. Reportedly, the gym have since terminated this particular award. It’d be nice to believe this story is true, so I will. All of this makes me think about the changing nature of football and footballers. Legends who set up one and score another winner in successive European Cup finals these days are unlikely to ever be seen puffing on a Park Drive in the car park of their local gym in retirement. More likely living on a private island surrounded by lackeys.
(A very funny guy and a football genius. One and the same)
The other person I might have hacked off online would seem to be the stadium announcer at Forest, one Mark Dennison of Radio Nottingham, a man whose show I actually really enjoy. A flippant comment about the sudden re-imagining of the half time playlist to focus almost entirely on hard rock might have been a bit harsh, but the change in musical direction has certainly been the talk of the Lower Trent End of late, not that you can actually hear any talk. We’re all becoming proficient lip readers. Sweet Caroline was tiresome. The brief obsession with Return of the Mack was nice inasmuch as it reminded me of a very, very big and messy night out in a club on the Reeperbahn after HSV v Schalke a few years back. Anyway, there needs to be some official communiqué from the club and if this is going to continue we can all dig out our denim and leathers, douse ourselves in patchouli oil and pretend we‘re at Worro’s, heavy rock bar of legend back in the 70s and 80s. On Bottle Lane, serving almost exclusively a cloudy scrumpy that, when spilt, made the famed sticky floor at Rock City seem like an Olympic ice rink, Worro’s was also famed for the world’s worst toilets (the paddling pool) and a diabolical sound system. Thinking about that, terrible sound system, awful toilets… maybe the City Ground has been building up to this then and the music policy is just the penultimate piece in the jigsaw before the scrumpy goes on sale.
Looking forward, next week sees the anniversary of the Anderlecht debacle. Having beaten them 2-0 in the UEFA Cup semi-final home leg, Forest travelled to Brussels for the 2nd leg on the 25th April. Forest had been brilliant in that run, having already won away at PSV Eindhoven, Celtic and Vorwarts. We’d also drawn away at Sturm Graz. A final beckoned. There was unease about the ref, Spaniard Emilio Gurceta Muro, who had previously put in a massively suspect performance at Napoli v Standard Liege. There he had mysteriously sent off two innocent-looking Italians and awarded Standard a most dubious penalty. Clough knew about this and Paul Hart also had bad experience of the same ref from a match with Leeds. The ref was spotted going in and out of Anderlecht’s dressing room before the match and at half-time.
(No mate, nothing going on here, honest!)
As the match progressed, Muro’ s decisions got more and more baffling. Enzo Scifo gave Anderlecht the lead after 20 minutes, but Forest held out. After an hour though, a blatant dive resulted in a penalty given against Kenny Swain, who must’ve been all of 2 or 3 yards form the player who went down.
(Left match programme, Centre, a corrupt twat, Right Bomber celebrates the goal that wasn’t)
Anderlecht went three up with two minutes left, but in stoppage time a powerful header from Paul Hart seemed to win the tie for Forest. Then and now, it is blindingly obvious that there is no offence. Hart jumped cleanly. The keeper was unimpeded. Nothing to see here. But then, the whistle blew and the ref ruled the ‘goal’ out. No reason given. The commentator laughs. The Anderlecht players look unruffled, like they just knew it was going to happen. No appeals. Nothing. On the touchline, Clough was literally jumping with rage. On the terraces, things got ugly and I recall a poisonous atmosphere. Trouble erupted. The footage here shows a big brawl breaking out. A moment or two later and the match was all over. To add to this, we were kettled aggressively for what felt like an eternity. Fans tried to jump the fences and espcape, Zagger included, which ended with me be ‘arrested’. Not really arrested, but grabbed by Monsieur lePlod, kicked about a bit and chucked out into the night to sleep on the station before getting the train out and towards home (which was Walton, just by Goodison , at the time).
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GX3PCDtgK98 Highlights, so to speak :-(
Forest, as was their way, made remarkably little fuss, but knew they had been cheated. The extent of this only came to light when criminal third parties tried to blackmail Anderlecht, threatening to reveal what they knew, having secretly taped Muro confessing. Anderlecht chairman Constan Vanden Stock, had paid Muro £18,000 to fix the match.
UEFA had information on this held secretly for 4 years, before taking any action. The facts were revealed in 1997 and Anderlecht were banned from European football for a risible one year. Forest were never recompensed. Players like Paul Hart, who won not a solitary medal in his career, were denied the opportunity to play for one. Chances are, they’d have won. Finalists and ultimately winners, Spurs were not generally in our class at that time, finishing 13 points behind us in Division One, although it has to be said they had beaten and drawn with us that season. A group of Anderlecht supporters once visited to offer apologies, but the club appear to have done nothing. Their stadium, still bears the name of Constant Vanden Stock. Bastards.
Comments