On The Fiddle

There is suspicion around in the world of football.

Suspicion of dishonesty.

The FA recently launched an investigation into suspicious goings on in relation to betting on a match between Lewes and Forest Green Rovers.

How shocking.

Whatever next?

MPs fiddling their expenses maybe?

Surely not.

Loving The Underdogs

I can't tell you how disappointed I am that our local team, Forest Green Rovers, were beaten by a late Derby penalty in the 3rd round of the FA Cup this afternoon.

They had already made history by getting the furthest ever in the tournament during their 118 year existence. When they went 2 0 up after just over 20 minutes it looked as if the impossible might happen. Derby managed to pull two back before half time though and despite another goal by Forest, equalised again shortly afterwards. Their 87th minute penalty conversion sealed Forest Green's fate and the dream was over for another year.

I heard on the radio earlier that Barrow was empty as everyone had piled off to the Riverside Stadium. Sad then that they lost 2 1 although I gather it was a spirited fight.

Still, Torquay and Kettering will move on to the fourth round to fly the flags for non-league football.

Don't you just love an underdog?

Football Made The Radio Star

As you know, my lover and I have a radio show on our local radio.

Our show is called "Peeky Blinders" and we chat and talk about football and other stuff and then more football.

We do 3 hours every other Saturday.

Yesterday was one of those Saturdays.

We talked about our two local teams, Cheltenham and Forest Green Rovers.We talked about the Premiership matches on during the afternoon and about the performance of the teams more generally. We talked about Roy Keane and who his successor might be. And we talked about the January transfer window.

And because we are the local radio equivalents of football pundits, we say things like "Paul Jewell's Derby are coming to play Forest Green Rovers in the 3rd Round of the FA Cup" and "Phil Brown's Hull have done it again".

I pop in and out of the recording studio to check the latest scores and read them out, introduced by high pitched beeps from my lover - a creditable simulation of sporting tension.

It's a small first step but you would have to say Georgina is on the road to football fame and fortune.

The Kiss Of Death

Having just sat through England's pretty unconvincing performance against Andorra I can only conclude that there is some mysterious law I am unaware of banning actually running with the ball, as opposed to just kicking it and hoping.

I was surrounded by about 20 England fans at the pub where we watched the match and I would describe the mood as subdued resignation. Mirrored by the conversation between Capello and Pearce just before half time when Capello asked Pearce a question with a baffled look on his face (maybe something like 'what shall we do now?') and Pearce responded with a shrug and equally baffled look.

2 - 0 sounds good on paper until you remind yourself that the players in the Andorra team have day jobs. It's like Forest Green Rovers vs England and they can only manage 2 goals.

I would be much more surprised if we qualified than if we didn't.

And Capello seems to have inherited the same sense of gloom and bewilderment as his predecessors and his team. Maybe it's true what they say that becoming the manager of England is the kiss of death.

Not so becoming the manager of my beloved Foxes though it would seem. Whatever you might think following Allen and Holloway, Mr Pearce is not only doing the business but has been recognised for it by being awarded League One Manager of the Month.

I'm so proud of him. He's up there with the greats.

Like Sven-Goran Eriksson (August 2007) and Avram Grant (April 2008).

And .... er ..... look where they are now.....................................................

Gottcha!

I had planned to write a blog about April Fools day yesterday, but as I explained earlier I had a date with a black Welshman and a hyperactive Ukrainian.

I would have moved on today, until a sneaky peak on the net suggested that it was something worth pursuing.

Did you know, for example, that Accrington Stanley played a trick on fans yesterday? Funny thing is though, it seems to have backfired because people really liked the idea.

Another one that backfired was the 1989 story started by a Naples TV Station that Maradona and Madonna were having a fling and that she was expecting his baby. La Mano de Dios struck again however when he forced them to issue an on-air apology the following day.

My favorite, though, is the story here in my area in 1981 when local papers ran a story that Paul Newman was buying Forest Green Rovers.

I always wondered why he didn't.

Thanks to The Run Of Play for clearing things up for me.

Up Close And Personal

In accordance with my pursuit of broadening my learning about the beautiful game, I have been to see a Conference League match today.

My local team is Forest Green Rovers, who were at home to Woking today. So off we trotted, my lover and I, my lover wearing a pair of my purple tights under his trousers (should I be worried I wonder?)

I thought at one point I might get in for free when the car park official mistook me for Stuart Fleetwood's mother. He rumbled me though when he spotted my Leicester City shirt.

The experience was a bit confusing in some ways because although FGR are my local team, we met up with three friends of my lover, led by Luton Andy, who are Woking fans. So I found myself in the away supporters end.

I think it would be fair to say it was not quite like a visit to The Walkers. For a start off the pitch was just a few feet away. Indeed, the warm up period was something of an ordeal, with the threat of a wild ball heading your way at any moment. These fears proved well founded when at half time a stray ball hit a woman carrying a pie, a cone of chips and two coffees. Strangely, she did not seem to find the spectacle of these items flying into the air and landing on the floor nearly as funny as the rest of us.

I was treated to a running commentary from behind by a Woking fan, who clearly missed his vocation as the team manager. Expressions such as "They need to do something with the ball once they have got it" and "Make space, make space" rang in my ears.

And then there was the referee. Who was a girl! Despite the fact that all the players were bigger than her, the Woking team in particular (blimey what do they feed them on Surrey?), she took no messing.

There is something a little bit sexy about bossing all those boys about whilst you run around in shorts don't you think?

Anyway FGR won with a creditable 2 -1 final score. As we left, a lone female steward stood facing us with her back to the pitch, presumably to stave off a mass pitch invasion from the 50 or so Woking fans who had made the trip.

The rest of the day was spent with my new friends, talking about - yes you've guessed it - football. And other stuff too of course. It was a great opportunity to watch boys 'doing' football up close though. One of the three football musketeers, Bruce Grove, told a great story of how years ago he watched Jimmy Greaves score an amazing goal. Several years later Greavesie was signing books at a local shop and he took the programme from the game and got him to sign it.

Now that really is up close and personal!