If anyone in the UK has watched the recent re-runs of An Impossible Job, the excellent documentary that followed Graham Taylor’s England team in their efforts to qualify for the 1994 World Cup, then you’ll remember what a loose cannon Paul Gascoigne was.
Today in 1992 Gazza came up with one of the more funny moments in recent football history. When quizzed by a hack from England’s next opponents, the ‘Fog on the Tyne’ hitmaker was asked if he had anything to say to the people of Norway.
His reply, was simple: “Yes. Fuck off Norway.” Then, England’s most naturally gifted footballer ran away laughing. Can you imagine any of England’s current stars doing the same? What’s that Lampsy? You’re being a bit quiet too Jenas.
We haven’t seen a player in the Three Lions shirt that has excited us as much since Gazza was in his early ’90s pomp, so ignore the man’s current troubles and look back at how good he really was. We’ll leave you with our top five Gazza moments (off the pitch, that is), and if that’s not enough check out what else happened today here.
OTFD’s Top Five Gazza Moments –
1. When in one of Rome’s most prestigious restaurants, Gazza was asked which lobster he wanted from the posh tank full of swimming creatures. Seconds later he was in the tub, proudly grabbing his favourite mollusk.
2. An hour after playing for his country in a crucial England game, Gazza was found, fully kitted, on the lash in a Hampstead pub with his mates Chris Evans and Danny Baker.
3. When the Italia ’90 organisers wanted each player to mouth their own name to argument the team’s line-up, Gazza’s subversive genius lead him to mouth: “Fucking Wanker.”
4. He hooked his best mate, Jimmy ‘Five Bellies’ Gardner, with a ‘girl’ that he knew to be a transvestite.
5. On one of Gazza’s trips home he walked into a Dunston newsagent, paid £20 for a Mars Bar and told the shop owner to spend the change on sweets for local kids. Whatever Gazza’s problems these days, you can’t argue that his heart is in the wrong place.
OCCASIONALLY the worlds of football and criminal prosecutions converge, and when they do, either Joey Barton or Craig Bellamy are usually involved.
Today we are focusing on the Welsh wonder who was due to appear in court on this day in 2006. The striker who trained at the Robbie Savage school of being a hated footballer, was accused of bringing a little bit of his famed mouth to the streets of Cardiff and he was charged with assaulting Sophie Palmer, 19, and Holly Smith, 20, in the Number 10 night club in Cardiff in February 2006.
Nothing extraordinary there you might think, just another vastly overpaid Premiership star kicking his can all over the place after one too many sherberts. But there was a problem, and the fortunes of an entire nation rested on the timing of the trial.
The proposed date of the trial, which was expected to last up to three days, was set to clash with a Euro 2008 qualifying match with Cyprus, due to be played at the Millennium Stadium on October 11.
Facing missing out on the game, Bellamy decided to play the ‘do you know who I am card’ and tried to get the trial moved. His solicitor Matthew de Maid said: “I’m keen to have the trial heard in early October to assist Mr Bellamy to fulfil his professional commitments. It would not be ideal for my client or the supporters in this country if he had to attend court in the daytime and play in the evening.”
At first there was nothin’ doin’ and District Judge Gerwyn Watkins refused Bellamy’s application to have the trial date moved, but in the end he got his way and the hearing did not take place until November when he the prosecution alleged Craig had grabbed the victim’s throat. Sophie Palmer said: “He grabbed me with both hands around the neck and held me up against the wall and he was squeezing.”
In a neat nod to history the trial, which lasted five days, was overseen by District Judge John Charles, the namesake of Bellamy’s Welsh striking predecessor.
After five days of Perry Mason action, Judge Charles decided that for once in his life, Bellamy was innocent and he was acquitted of the charges.
In the meantime he played in the Cyprus game and on the same night when Paul Robinson and Steve McClaren were having their nightmare in Croatia, Bellamy got on the scoresheet as Wales won 3-1 in yet another pointless victory in a qualification campaign.
No doubt Bellamy was told by all and sundry to keep his nose clean after the incident but you can’t keep a good moron down and it would be just a few months before he was making headlines again.
Seemingly having moved on from assaulting girls, Bellas now turned on his own teammates and attacked John Arne Riise with a golf club after the Norwegian refused to join in with what would have doubtless been a rousing rendition of My Way at a karaoke bar.
In the first match following the incident, a Champions League tie away at Barcelona, Bellamy scored to level the score at 1-1 and celebrated by swinging an imaginary golf club in triumph to show he does at least have a sense of humour. He wasn’t finished there, and even provided the assist for Riise’s winners later in the game. Great stuff.
WHETHER you think that fact that the Euro 2008 final was John Motson’s last live football broadcast was good or bad news, there can be no doubt that the sheepskinned commentator has been a long-standing presence in all of our lives for decades.
It was on this day in 1971 that a young Motty made his first appearance on Match of the Day.
After starting his career as a junior reporter on the Barnet Press he moved on to the bigger regional title the Sheffield Morning Telegraph which was where he got his first break into the world of broadcasting.
BBC Sheffield recruited local journalists to head up their new radio service and Motty had made his first leap from print to live work.
He said: “I did some radio reports from games at places like Barnsley and Rotherham, and then one night when I was sitting on the sports desk at the newspaper I saw a senior sub-editor screwing up his face as he read my copy. After some time, he said, ‘John, on the evidence of this copy, I really think you should try the world of the voice rather than the written world.’”
His sub was spot on, Motty had found his calling and he soon bagged a small part on MOTD after the grizzled boss of BBC Sport Sam Leitch (he of the “they’ll be dancing in the streets of Raith tonight” gaffe) gave his his chance.
Motson was very much a junior member of the team until one day when he was sent to cover what was hardly the plum match in the FA Cup draw: a replay between non-league Hereford and First Division Newcastle United.
The match was scheduled to have a five minute segment at the end of the Match of the Day roster but Newcastle proved hilarious comedy cock-ups were still their forte even then, and went and lost 2-1 to the pluckiest of underdogs. It was the biggest shock since sliced bread and suddenly Motty’s insignificant match was top of the bill.
“Anyone could see it was a huge story when Hereford won 2-1, but it was still incredible to hear my commentary at the top of the show,” he recalls. “Sam Leitch must have thought I did all right because I got a contract soon after that.”
Motson had arrived and over the next few years he would go on to vie with Barry Davies for the position as England’s top commentator, with Motty shading it and getting the nod for most of the biggest gigs including the FA Cup finals and most of the prestige and England matches at major tournaments.
With his fact-based, chuckling and slightly naive style Motson has always divided opinion among football fans but he could always be relied upon for a comedy gaffe including his famous lines: “For those of you watching in black and white, Tottenham Hotspur are playing in yellow,” and: “Brazil – they’re so good it’s like they are running around the pitch playing with themselves.”
Our favourite however, has to be his impassioned words which accompanied David Platt’s winner for England against Belgium in Italia 90, and went on to be used in the Three Lions song. “And chipped in. AND VOLLEYED IN!!! And it’s there by David Platt! England have done it! In the last minute of extra-time!”
We will all have to do without Motson at the 2010 World Cup after he decided Euro 2008 would be his last tournament. He said: “I thought about the prospect of the World Cup in South Africa in 2010 and I just didn’t feel quite up for it. I thought it would be better to go when I still felt good and confident about my work. I didn’t want to risk the chance that one day, while covering a big game, I no longer had the conviction for it, that something had gone out of me.”
We will leave you with a few of Motty’s best moments below, but click here to read about the passing of a true Newcastle legend.
WHAT did it take to put the brakes on the England U21 team today in 1996? It wasn’t a duff manager, an unbalanced side or even a penalty shoot-out. Instead it was a meagre sandwich.
The Under-21 European Championship qualifying clash with Poland was delayed until 10pm when a small, foil-covered “suspect package” was spotted by an over-enthusiastic steward in a bin in the lower tier of the John Ireland Stand at Molineux.
In came an army unit from Hereford who turned their attention to the package as over 6,000 supporters stood around in the pouring rain. After an x-ray proved to be ‘inconclusive’ – obviously no one thought of opening the foil up – a controlled explosion took place and some poor souls dinner was no more.
Chief Supt Roger Allen, of the West Midlands police force said at the time: “The package was behind where the Royal Marines band would have been sitting. With explosives recently going off in Ireland and of the parts of the country security obviously has to come first.”
Eventually the match got under way, two hours late and those that waited around probably wished the hadn’t have bothered as England, featuring future full-internationals Emile Heskey, Nicky Butt and, ehm, Michael Duberry played out a dull 0-0 draw with their Polish counterparts.
The highlight of the game came at the start of the second half, when Riccardo Scimeca missed a penalty. Scimeca was Gareth Southgate’s understudy at Aston Villa, so this proved for the second time that year that you shouldn’t let Villa centre-backs anywhere near the opposition penalty spot with England.
Sadly, no footage of the infamous sarnie exists on YouTube, so we’ll show you highlights of the England U21′s titanic clash with the Netherlands in the 2007 European Championships. Check out what else was going on today here and unlike the FTSE 100 we’ll be bouncing back tomorrow for more footballing tales.
WHO was that long-haried fellow making his debut for Dundee today in 2000? Why it was none other than Argentine legend Claudio Caniggia, who, in one for the more unlikely transfer moves in recent years, had just signed for the Dens Park club from Atalanta.
By the time Caniggia’s career had reached Scotland he’d gone through enough trials and tribulations to match other South American legends such as El Diego and Rene Higuita. He made his debut for River Plate in 1985 where he soon became renowned for his blistering pace and flowing blonde locks. In that same year he ran the 100m in 10.07 seconds, making him one of the fastest men ever to cross the white line.
He soon moved to Italy, notching up stints at Hellas Verona, Atalanta and Roma, whilst making a name for himself in the national side, becoming good friends with Maradona. Mrs Caniggia believed that he was a bit too fond of Diego, as the pair once celebrated a goal with a smacker on the lips, causing the ol’ ball and chain to lament that: “At times I believe Diego is in love with my husband. It must be the long hair and big muscles.”
Like Maradona, he also faced a drugs ban, after he was suspended for 13 months for testing positive for cocaine whilst at Roma in 1993.
After starring in the 1990 and 1994 World Cups with the Celeste and Blanca, he later became a victim of coach Daniel Passarella’s eccentricities, who banned him from the national team becasue he wouldn’t cut his hair, the damned hippy. He managed a brief comeback in 2002 and was included in the Argentine squad, but didn’t make the field of play.
Caniggia was brought to Dundee by Italian manager Ivano Bonetti, and didn’t take long to get the fans at Dens Park going, scoring a screamer on his debut. Still rocking the heavy metal haircut, despite it starting to thin out, Caniggia turned out 25 times for Dundee that season, scoring eight goals before being swiped by Rangers in 2001, picking up a league title in 2002/03.
See footage of the the Argie speedster below and check what a certain K Keegan was up to today here. We’ll be back tomorrow for more of the same.
MODERN football originated in Britain but over the years the game has been exported to every corner of the globe.
Some countries have taken to it rather better than others and today we are looking at one that has taken the game and made it their own more than any other: Italy.
There is some debate about where football started in Italy with Genoa and Turin both staking claims to have been the first spot in the country to play the game.
Either way, it all started in the 1880s when English ex-pats introduced the sport to the Italians, and it soon took off in a big way. By the end of the century it was gaining popularity fast so the Italian Football Federation (Federazione Italiana Giuoco Calcio, FIGC) was set up and the first official tournaments organised.
Football clubs were springing up all over the country and soon the FIGC had organised them all to compete in regional leagues but in true Italian style, a row was to throw a spanner in the works. Before the 1921 season could start many of the leading clubs wanted a reduction in the number of teams competing in the top leagues. The FIGC would not agree and so a new organisation, the Confederazione Calcistica Italiana (CCI) was formed who set up their own rival league that ran concurrently to the FIGC league for the 1921-22 season and had Juventus, Milan and Bologna among its member teams.
After just one season of the two rival leagues, the FIGC conceeded to the big clubs’ demands and the CCI league was discontinued, but again, true to Italian form, more scandal and controversy was not far away.
Of course the Calciopoli scandal of 2006 was not Italy’s first foray into corruption as in 1927 a FIGC investigation found that a Torino official had bribed the Juventus defender Luigi Allemandi. Torino were stripped of the title and their was no official league winner for that season.
With all this match-fixing, rival associations and leagues and general uncertainty, the FIGC decided to rationalise competition and restructure the regional competitions into two national leagues: Serie A and Serie B.
It was on this day in 1929 that the first matches in the new Serie A national league were played. The pick of the results from the first day of the competition include a 3-2 win for Juventus over Napoli, a 3-0 win for Lazio over Bologna, and Internazionale beating Livorno 2-1 away.
Inter built on that win and went on to win the first ever Serie A championship, the first of 16 Scudetto’s the club would pick up including last year’s.
From beginnings of rows, scandals and disorganisation Serie A went from strength to strength to become one of the top professional leagues in the world.
It is home to some of the world’s most famous and successful clubs, and has played host to the best players in the world, evidenced by the fact that more players have won the Ballon d’Or award while playing at a Serie A club than any other league in the world.
For many English football fans, Serie A and Italian football will always be held in high regard thanks to Channel Four’s excellent Football Italia show fronted by James Richardson during the 1990s. When it started in 1992 the Sky revolution had yet to really transform English football into the super-rich and glamorous competition it is today and the Italian game was superior in quality, had bigger superstar players, and was just much cooler.
In those days there was no argument as to whether the Premiership was the best league in the world, it wasn’t even close, with Serie A the undisputed top cat, and it all started on this day.
Have a look at some footage from Football Italia of James Richardson with hair(!) with help from a pretty random celebrity pundit.
EVERY kid wants to be a professional footballer, but some simply lack the talent, motivation, or perhaps just the opportunity to achieve their dream.
When your father is the dictator of his own country however, you might have a better chance than most of turning pro, even if your skills are not quite of bill-paying standard.
Colonel Gaddafi, or ‘Guide of the First of September Great Revolution of the Socialist People’s Libyan Arab Jamahiriya’ to use the snappy title he is known officially in his country, managed to fix it for his son Al Saadi Gaddafi to be a footballer and he played for Libyan sides Al Ahly Tripoli and Al Ittihad.
But Al Saadi had loftier ambitions than that, and yearned to play in Serie A. Again, beyond the reach of most Libyan players, but not when your dad is the biggest cheese in an oil rich state.
In 2003 Gaddafi signed for Italian club Perugia at a ceremony at a castle north of Rome owned by the chairman, Luciano Gaucci. Despite a distinct fishy feel to the whole deal, the club denied the signing was a stunt or a favour for Gaddafi’s engineered by Italian Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi. The fact that Italy gets a quarter of its oil from Libya was totally coincidental apparently, and any notion that Gaddafi was not up to Serie A standard would soon be dispelled when he took to the pitch.
Except that he didn’t. There were myriad problems which delayed his first appearance for the club. First it was a registration problem, and then it was a ban imposed because of his membership of the board of Juventus (in which the Libyan government has a 7.5% stake). Finally, it was a back injury.
Then , finally, on this day in 2003 he made it as far as the subs bench for a league match. He didn’t get on to the field of play, but he did get selected for a random urine drugs test. Which he failed.
He tested positive for the banned steroid nandrolone without having made a single appearance for the club. The chairman Luciano Gaucci claimed it was all a big misunderstanding and that he had no doubt tested positive because of drugs he took in Germany for his back problems.
Unfortunately he forgot to get his story straight with the club spokesman Paolo Giovagnoni who said: “This is the first I’ve heard of him going to Germany.”
He did eventually make one appearance when he played the final ten token minutes of a meaningless end of season match, before signing for Udinese, where again, he was what could politely be termed a ‘squad player’, or more of a squad dweller really since he never actually played for the team there either.
“I’M not equipped to manage successfully without Peter Taylor. I am the shop window and he is the goods.” Brian Clough.
As a number two you’re never going to go down in the history books as the man who delivered trophy-after-trophy to your club or had your name sang by the rapturous crowd, but those who really know the game will appreciate what you bring to the table.
Was there ever a better number two than Peter Taylor? Brian Clough is undoubtedly one of the most fascinating characters in football history, but every great man needs a rock behind them and that’s exactly where Taylor, who died today in 1990, came in.
Whereas Cloughy has had stands, trophies and roads named after him and books written and movies made about his life, Taylor’s role in their partnership has largely gone criminally ignored.
As a player, Taylor’s career was no great shakes. He played less than 250 games as a goalkeeper for Coventry, Middlesbrough and Port Vale before hanging up his gloves and taking charge of Burton Albion in 1962.
The most significant period of his career was his spell at Boro where he met an up-and-coming striker who went by the name of Brian Clough. When Cloughy’s career was curtailed by injury he took over as manager of Hartlepool and Taylor was quick to join him.
They quickly established a successful partnership, and soon found themselves at Derby County, where they won promotion to the First Division in 1969 and won the title two years later.
After Cloughy’s mouth got him the sling at the Baseball Ground the pair joined Third Division Brighton. After eight months Clough left to replace Don Revie for an ill-fated 44-day spell at Leeds United, but Taylor stayed on the south coast, building a team that won promotion the season after he left to join Clough at Forest.
Clough and Taylor’s time at Forest is the stuff of legends. In the first season after winning promotion to the First Division, Forest romped home to the title, finishing seven points clear of runners-up Liverpool. The next season they won the European Cup and would go on to defend it the year after, going down in history as the only club in Europe that has won the European Cup more times than their domestic league.
This, however, proved to be the peak of the pair’s relationship. After relations began to degenerate,
Clough and Taylor had an almighty falling out following the publication of Taylor’s autobiography in 1980, that was entitled “With Clough by Taylor”. Cloughy was incensed that Taylor had not consulted him over the book, and when Taylor became manager of Derby, Forest’s biggest rivals, and commenced to try and sign some of his players, Clough was incensed, seeing this as the ultimate act of betrayal.
The managerial pairing that had seen Clough established as one of football’s greatest ever bosses was no more. Taylor once described his end of the deal thusly: “We just gelled together, we filled in the gaps… My strength was buying and selecting the right player, then Brian’s man management would shape the player.”
Following the falling out, the pair would never speak again, and Clough’s Forest side would never hit the heights of the halcyon days of his partnership with Taylor. In the year before he died, Taylor wrote an article stating that Clough should retire gracefully, before he was either forced out by his chairman or his ill-health got the better of him. As he was so often during their partnership, Taylor proved to be right. Clough, meanwhile, typically understated that Taylor’s comments were not fit to be in the “wrapper that we used to eat fish and chips in Middlesbrough.”
Taylor died suddenly, aged 62, whilst on holiday in Majorca. When Clough was told of his death on the telephone he fell silent, hung up and cried heavily. Clough attended Taylor’s funeral and later dedicated his 1994 autobiography to his former assistant. “To Peter,” it read. “Still miss you badly. You once said: ‘When you get shot of me there won’t be as much laughter in your life.’ You were right.”
We’ll raise a glass to one of football’s greatest ever number two’s tonight, so enjoy this footage of his greatest ever triumph.
OVER the last few weeks, as we seem to get at the start of every season, most of the media has been having a cow over the state of refereeing and player’s diving habits. Today in 2007 saw one of the most ridiculous dives ever seen on a football pitch as AC Milan ‘keeper Dida took a tumble during the Rossoneri’s clash with Celtic.
The Champions League Group D clash was nearing it’s conclusion, with Gordon Strachan’s men 2-1 up and on the cusp of a famous win when a fan managed to weave his way through the Celtic Park stewards and get on the pitch.
The said Celtic fan, obviously feeling pretty chuffed with his sides performance and maybe a little fuelled by a tin of McEwans or two, ran towards the Milan goalie, gave him a tap on the shoulder and ran off back into the crowd.
Dida then turned to the fleeing fan and set off after him, looking like he wanted to lamp the scallywag. But then, after a couple of steps he clutched the side of his head and hit the deck, going down heavier than Cristiano Ronaldo when someone has the audacity to tackle him. The Brazilian was then stretchered off as the rain poured down and Celtic held on for the win as up in the Sky Sports studio Charlie Nicholas described the blow as a ‘little tickle’.
Now, it’s possible that Dida’s adrenaline kicked in when he was struck and he maybe didn’t feel the pain for a couple of seconds. Hmm. Or maybe when he realised following a pissed-up Scottish fan into a crowd of fellow inebriated Scots all guns blazing was not a good idea, so milked the situation for all it was worth and hoped that the suits at Uefa would come down heavy on Celtic and award the match to Milan.
Nice try mate.
In a rare act of common sense Uefa weren’t fooled in the slightest and slapped Dida with a two-match ban for his overreaction. Celtic were also fined £25,000, half of which was suspended over two years and the fan that ran onto the pitch later turned himself in to the police.
Although his theatrics were undeniably over-the-top we do feel a bit sorry for Dida. Two years earlier he had been hit on the head with a flare during the Milan derby in the Champions League quarter-final, suffering first degree burns on his shoulder. He’s also been rubbish since, which, combined with various injuries, has seen his time on the pitch limited. We reckon he needs to hook himself up with an Ari Gold type, and the Hollywood roles will come flooding in.
Have a chuckle at the Brazilian’s close shave below and check out what else happened today here. We’ll be back for some more tomorrow folks, so don’t go changing.
This true story of five young British freestyle footballers is a million miles away from the glory of the Bernabeu of the hype of the NASL. Sharing a common dream of meeting their hero Diego Maradona the group busk their way across the Atlantic and down into South America by showing off their impressive keepy-uppy skills as they hit the road with no funding or sponsorship.
Charting the quintets’ highs and lows, where they are often sleeping rough or going hungry, the under-stated style of the film succeeds in getting past their blokey-banter and false-bravado as the group are refreshingly honest with each other, leaving you as the viewer routing for them to make it down to Buenos Aries and shake that famous hand.
The group is extremely diverse, with a typical cheeky scouser, evangelical Christian and refugee from Somalia who has lead of life of crime since being rejected by his mother among their number. They’ve all got a story to tell and a different reason for being there. And there’s a couple of very daft contemporary haircuts in there too for added comic value.
The lads bond together through their shared ambition, but at it’s core this film is less about football and more a road movie about personal sacrifice and what it means to follow your dream. At times it gets a bit too reality TV for it’s own good, as tantrums, egos, tears and group hugs take centre stage, but it would take someone with a heart of steel not to be moved by the final scenes. As far as British football films go though, it certainly beats the likes of There’s Only One Jimmy Grimble and When Saturday Comes.
