TV or not TV

television, live football, supporters, jigsaw puzzle, missing pieces, 2020/21 season, covid-19, coronavirus, social distancing

The pandemic has accelerated a regrettable trend. For the time being, football is a game played exclusively for a television audience.

At the top level the game has been heading that way for a number of years. The tinkering with kick-off times and even dates is only one aspect of the extent to which broadcasters call the tune. The interests of fans inside the stadium are neglected in many other respects: VAR is a particularly good recent example, having been devised apparently so that only TV viewers can know what is going on.

As the new season approaches, subscription TV or streaming is going to be the only way to watch live football for a while. All being well, fans may be allowed back into lower division grounds in carefully controlled numbers from October. It will be interesting to see how enthusiastic the take-up is.

Some parts of a club’s fan-base may choose not to return. The old boys who’ve been going for decades may decide it isn’t worth the risk. Another, younger cohort will have discovered during lockdown that they’ve saved a fortune not following a bunch of honest (or barely honest, as the case may be) triers around the country.

But the greatest risk to clubs lower down the leagues, where match-day revenue is proportionally more important, is that the collective experience depends on the dynamics of a crowd. It’s hard to imagine that experience not being deeply diluted by social distancing. It might compare unfavourably with the atmosphere in your lounge, where beer and pizza are easily available.

In many a ground, stewards turn a blind eye to some supposedly banned behaviour – fans standing throughout a match in all-seater stadiums is a particularly good example. But it’s hard to imagine that being applied to transgressions relating to Covid-19.

Tolerance of almost any kind of gathering is diminishing, if the rising penalties imposed on organisers and participants are any guide. And the most obvious penalty that a football club might face – to be obliged to return to the closed-doors policy – is easy to implement. For fans, sitting on egg-shells, socially distanced and on their best behaviour does not sound like much of a day out.

Back to the Future

Wellington, Basin Reserve, banners, football flags, visiting supporters
Tourist offices! Spare a thought for what away fans will contribute to the local economy

A timetable is emerging for a return to something like the old routine, in the lower divisions at least.

The key dates are:
Week beginning 17 August: publication of EFL fixture lists (21 August has been specified in reports, but neither the week nor the particular day is confirmed)
Weekend of 12 September: first games of the 2020/21 season, behind closed doors
1 October: all being well, limited numbers of supporters in grounds.

The new season’s fixtures usually create a buzz of interest. Their publication breaks up the close season, the Gobi Desert of the football calendar; and it gives fans something to look forward to.
This year, however, the close season in Leagues 1 and 2 is already five months old and until we can get into grounds there is very little to look forward to.
So a letter from Rochdale chairman Andrew Kilpatrick to his club’s fans, published on the Rochdale website, is of much wider interest.
From 1 October onwards Rochdale anticipate being able to have 2,170 fans inside the Crown Oil Arena. That’s a little over 20% of the ground’s capacity. More to the point, perhaps, it’s almost 60% of the average home attendance last season. At any level it’s better than nothing, obviously.
The prospect of a return to the possibility of football tourism remains distant. Casual visiting fans are unlikely to be a priority while numbers are restricted.
But that’s a very short-sighted view. Local tourist offices should urge clubs to focus on fans who will contribute most to the local economy. Given that the home fans will be contributing anyway, that means giving priority to incomers.

Sitting room

sunderland, cardiff city, stadium of light, social distancing
Sunderland’s Stadium of Light: not always a problem maintaining a two-metre gap

No sooner has Project Restart got off the ground than attention turns to the next season – and the possibility of opening football grounds to supporters.

The FA chief executive Mark Bullingham was widely reported on Thursday as hoping that “some fans could start to return to stadiums” with the new season. His comment is necessarily cautious: ‘some’ fans, ‘start to return’, and no commitment to all stadia. But for supporters of many clubs, especially lower down the league structure, it will be enough.

Halifax Town, north stand, unused, social distancing
Halifax: ‘The North Stand provides a great view, however this stand is unused.’

At many grounds, social distancing even at two metres might already be possible with an average attendance: it would simply involve re-opening the sections of stands or, in some cases entire stands, that are routinely closed off. My favourite example of this practice is from National League Halifax Town, whose website promises: “The North Stand provides a great view, however this stand is unused.”

At one metre, an adjustment the Government might make for pubs where it wouldn’t for schools, many grounds would still look half-empty.

The problem will be getting people to and into the grounds, organising their movement within the grounds and, not least, providing facilities. At least from your sofa you can enjoy a beer with the match and not have to worry about bladder control.

Endgame

broadcasting, closed doors, camera, empty stand
No fans, but at last it’s ‘Lights, Camera, Action!’

This is how the season will end… not with a bang but with a whimper.

Actually, the return of the Premier League has made no difference to me so far. Too tight to pay for a subscription and too lazy to find a free live stream, I’m waiting for the mouth-watering Bournemouth v Crystal Palace clash on the BBC.

Meanwhile, there’s the radio. Radio 5’s coverage of the game between Villa and Sheffield United yesterday recalled a distant era. For the Ashes Test series in England in 1930, ‘live’ commentaries were read to the insomniac Australian radio audience by local presenters reading cables, ball-by-ball. There were no background noises beyond the hiss of steam radio; no thwack of willow on leather, no audible cries of “Oh I say, jolly well played,” and no crowd responses. Very much like most of the match at Villa Park (where, by the way, if that’s the quality of the officiating and the technology, points-per-game would have been a fairer way of finishing the season).

United!

Towards the end of its 6.30pm bulletin on 28 May, ITV News put up a graphic to accompany its story on the return of Premier League football. The first matches to be played, it said, will be Manchester City v Arsenal and Aston Villa v Sheffield.

Anyone can make a mistake. But this one came barely two hours after a similar piece on Radio 5 Live’s Drive show, in which an over-excited reporter repeatedly referred to the Aston Villa/Sheffield Wednesday game restarting the league programme.

That’s less forgivable. What sort of an ear must a sports reporter have for the juxtaposition of Aston Villa, Sheffield Wednesday and Premier League not to sound wrong? How come nobody else involved in the programme noticed such a simple error – or, if they did, failed to correct him? Try to imagine the first line on the ITV caption reading ‘Manchester v Arsenal’. Or the radio presenter hearing his colleague say ‘Manchester United’ instead of ‘Manchester City’. Do you suppose the mistake would have gone uncorrected?

It’s improbable. Football is still three weeks away. But the condescension habitually shown by the media to ‘smaller’ clubs is roaring back.

Re-election recall

Stevenage, globe, shopping
Stevenage: on top of the world

When the League Two clubs voted last week to cancel the 2019/20 season, they turned the clock back 34 years. Stevenage finish bottom but (subject to ratification) remain in the league. In effect, they have become the first club to be chosen by their peers to stay in the Football League since Exeter City, Cambridge United, Preston North End and Torquay United on 23 May 1986.

It used to be known as ‘applying for re-election’. There was no formal application in last Friday’s deliberations. Stevenage were bottom of League Two with 10 games to play when the current season reached what turns out to have been its conclusion in March. They were three points adrift of Macclesfield but had a game in hand. The League Two clubs apparently took the not unreasonable view that it would be grotesquely unfair to relegate Stevenage without giving them a chance to play their way out of trouble.

The support of other league clubs also formed the basis of the re-election system. As a means of deciding what happened to the teams in the bottom four positions of the fourth tier, re-election always looked like something of a formality. In theory, 112 non-league clubs might have ascended into the Football League in the 28 seasons during which the re-election process applied, from the founding of the Fourth Division in 1958 to promotion/relegation from 1986 onwards. In the event, five scrambled on board.

The non-league community used to regard re-election as an example of the ‘Old Pals Act’ in operation. When Saturday Comes pulled no punches: “In the smoke-filled rooms of London’s Café Royal the same old representatives of the same rotting clubs gathered enough votes each year to remain stagnant at the bottom of Division Four.”

Emlyn Hughes, Barrow, Holker Street, football statues
Barrow: aiming for a return to the Football League

Among the repeat offenders at the league’s lowest levels, Hartlepool United successfully applied for re-election 11 times in this period. That’s not far off every other year. On the other hand, Oldham Athletic provide a kind of vindication for the system by having gone through the process twice before becoming founder members of the Premier League.

The expectation is that Stevenage’s good fortune will not be at the expense of Barrow. The Cumbrian club has led the National League since mid-November and had a 4-point lead on 14 March. Poor Bury will have to be replaced in the EFL structure and that leaves an opening for Barrow.

Bring it on

Sky Sports, Halifax Town, Ebbsfleet United, sports, broadcasting, satellite TV, Shay
Behind closed doors? Perhaps, but not ‘in camera’

It looks certain now that if the 2019/2020 league season is completed, it will be ‘behind closed doors’.

This isn’t quite the same thing as ‘in camera’, an expression originating in the legal system, when a judge excludes the press and public from proceedings. That means literally ‘in a chamber’.

‘Camera’ arrived at its contemporary meaning by a circuitous route but it is the same word, and if ‘in camera’ is not appropriate ‘on camera’ most certainly is. The public might be excluded from the league season’s remaining fixtures, but the broadcasters will be there.

Will we, then, be able to watch without Sky or BT subscriptions? The Government will argue for free transmission, to stop us all going round to watch games at the home of whoever has one. Or extended highlights. Or, if not on TV, via the websites of clubs.

Cheltenham, Lancashire, Gloucestershire, lovers, cricket, attendance
Will footballers cope with the absence of a crowd? County cricketers seem to manage

From a fan’s point of view it hardly matters. Football on TV again on any terms would be a huge adornment to our locked-down lives. A satisfactory footballing conclusion to a blighted season might be welcomed everywhere, with the possible exception of Stevenage.

If the season does end behind closed doors, it will be interesting to see how the players react. Many clubs talk of their supporters as a 12th man; can they compete on equal terms? Will spitting become a sending-off offence? Will the pundits wear masks? Who cares. Bring it on.

Halifax

Halifax, Piece Market

When Latin was taught in schools, back in the Dark Ages, every schoolchild knew that Rome was founded by refugees from Troy. According to a vaguely related legend, one Brutus, great-grandson of the Trojan hero Aeneas, subsequently wandered into the North Atlantic and became the first king of Britain.

The legend is colourful nonsense. But there are still parts of this country where the sense of strangeness (from the French ‘étrange’, meaning ‘foreign’) is so strong and inexplicable that legend retains some appeal.

All of which is a long-winded way of saying that Halifax is an unexpectedly exotic and cosmopolitan town.

On a sunny afternoon you could easily imagine its Piece Hall in the Mediterranean or in some Roman province. It’s a large quadrangle bounded by two- and three-storey colonnades, backed by arched rooms in which worsted and woollen goods were traded. It opened in 1779 and was beautifully restored in 2017. Today it houses specialist shops, some historic displays, the information centre and places to eat and drink.

Halifax, Halifax Town Hall
‘After dark, parts of Halifax town centre – around the Town Hall (above) and the Borough Market especially – feel improbably French’
After dark, parts of Halifax town centre – around the Town Hall and the Borough Market especially – feel improbably French; it may be the lighting and lamp standards, the sandstone and style, the mansard roofs and turrets, an occasional tall, slim gable end, diners glimpsed through an aqueous window or the tolling of the hour on the Town Hall clock. Around the town the lights on the hillsides are a profoundly nostalgic sight.

Halifax, Dean Clough, viaducts, bridges
‘In other respects Halifax is thoroughly Yorkshire’
In other respects Halifax is thoroughly Yorkshire: a dark, culverted river; dramatic public buildings; old mills converted to contemporary purposes; a fine local industrial museum measuring the breadth of Halifax’s contribution to the Industrial Revolution; a lovely Minster with a feeling of great age, unusual even for a church; and Eureka!, the National Children’s Museum to which you aren’t admitted if you don’t have a child in tow.

The people were lovely too, by and large, though not in all cases with an unusual feeling of great age. It was a strange atmosphere: just two days later the Government tightened its advice on the coronavirus. Meanwhile people strolled around the Piece Hall, they went to pubs and restaurants and at 5.20pm they attended what would be the last professional football match for some time. The National League fixture at the Shay, between Halifax Town and Ebbsfleet United, kicked off at 5.20pm for the cameras. On public transport, in the street, indoors or at the Shay they gave each other space but were friendly and helpful.

Calderdale Industrial Museum, Halifax, museums, industrial history, Industrial Revolution, knitting machine
Calderdale Industrial Museum: still making Halifax great
At the Calderdale Industrial Museum, some of the volunteers must have been in the ‘vulnerable’ category but that wasn’t going to discourage them. Stationed around exhibits in the four-floor building, each was a mine of information (especially the gentleman in the mining section). Much of the equipment on display, though static, is impressive enough; but many machines still work and are eagerly demonstrated. At the automated sweet-wrapping device you’ll even be offered a sample of the product.

The museum celebrates the industrial history of the town in all its diversity: pottery, mining, engineering, machine tools, textiles, carpets, confectionery. It also records the contribution of individuals and, when I was there, specifically Laurie Annie Willson MBE. A suffragette, she was instrumental in getting women into the WWI war effort, pioneered works canteens and, after setting up her own electrical engineering company, she built quality homes for working people. Four of her estates are still part of Halifax’s housing stock.

Halifax, Halifax Minster, Gentleman Jack, BBC, Suranne Jones, Shibden Hall
‘A lovely Minster with a feeling of great age, unusual even for a church’
Another notable Halifax woman is remembered at the Minster. Anne Lister was the Gentleman Jack of the recent BBC series. She owned Shibden Hall, just outside Halifax, was an active local parishioner and her tombstone is in the Minster.

Dean Clough sounds like a junior offshoot of a footballing dynasty, until you consider the northern geographical meaning of ‘clough’ – a valley or ravine. Here, a collection of 19th century buildings and mills has been converted into offices, a shopping village, galleries and leisure spaces.

The galleries are a rabbit warren but the printed guide helps and it’s worth persevering. In a random corridor you’ll find a Hockney; above a staircase, Tom Wood’s portrait of the Prince of Wales; and in a room to itself, a sensational Lego model of the complex.

Halifax Town, Ebbsfleet United, Shay, Halifax, National League, lockdown
As close as Halifax came to an equaliser
I was in Halifax on a Saturday. By the following Tuesday a number of the places I visited were closed – the Industrial Museum, the Minster, the Shay – until further notice. This was football tourism to the finest of tolerances. On the day football closed down in England, then, 52 Ebbsfleet supporters made their way to Halifax and were rewarded with an away win. Some of the Halifax team played as if they were feeling under the weather.

FC Halifax Town 0 Ebbsfleet United 1
The Shay Stadium, 14 Mar 2020

Norman Hunter

The picture is from Marching on Together

When Norman Hunter died last week it was natural that the broadcast news should include clips of his career highlights, however unedifying. Hunter was one of the most significant footballers of his generation. In an era of hard men – in a teak-hard Leeds United team – he stood out.

But the highlights reels revealed an aspect of Hunter’s play that can’t help but catch the eye, 50 years later. All the fouls featured were committed with the boot. Hunter was indeed a footballer. Neither on the BBC News nor in many of the YouTube compilations will you see Hunter grappling with an opponent. He summarily chopped men down, rather than hauling them down with his hands, arms or upper body.

Is that to Norman Hunter’s credit? No, it probably made him more dangerous than would be tolerated today. But the famous ‘duty of care’ that players are said to owe opponents seems a convenient piece of hypocrisy anyway. Grappling has not replaced hacking, stamping, scraping etc – it has joined them in the modern footballer’s armoury.

On the other hand… there is a certain honesty, perhaps almost purity, about the way Hunter played. His job was to stop opponents from scoring. How much easier it would have been had the use of the arms been legitimate – or even mandatory – in his day.

In the event it was one of Hunter’s team-mates who changed football in that respect. When Jack Charlton was allowed by referees to get away with standing on the goal-line in front of the goalkeeper at corners, the game changed forever. In particular, the days of an offence previously referred to as ‘obstruction’ were numbered.

The argument Leeds made was that Charlton was entitled to stand where he liked at a corner-kick. That much was true; but his purpose was to impede, distract, perhaps intimidate but certainly to get in the way of the goalkeeper. From there it was a short step to other overt forms of obstruction – ‘shepherding’ the ball out for a throw-in or goal-kick, for example. And with obstruction effectively part of the game, it was natural that use of the arms should follow. When, then, was the last time you saw an indirect free-kick awarded for “impeding the progress of an opponent”? Instead, something similar to rugby’s ‘hand-off’ is routine whenever the ball goes near a player with a marker within reach.

It is to be expected that in half a century the game might have changed. Norman Hunter was a good enough footballer to have made a career in it if he were starting out again now.

VAR!

VAR, micrometer screw guage, caption, middlesbrough, reading, goalmouth action

One of the unexpected victims of the much-maligned VAR could be goal celebrations. Players who aren’t sure they’ve scored can’t help but be inhibited. Celebrating prematurely will expose them to the mockery of opposing fans, as when half the ground sees a shot hit the side-netting and the other half thinks it’s a goal.

Surely, you might reply, only an old curmudgeon would find anything objectionable about goal celebrations. Speaking as an old curmudgeon, I agree – but only up to a point. Some goal celebrations are genuine (if premeditated) expressions of joy. But others are no better than brand-building. They belong to the world of marketing and image rights. They are yet another lamentable demonstration of football’s eagerness to sell its soul.

Alex Young, the Golden Vision (Everton 1960-68), on scoring one of his 89 goals for the club, would offer a firm handshake to any team-mate in the vicinity before trotting back to the centre-circle looking godlike. That was how it was done in those days, though few managed to look godlike in the process.

The first vaguely modern, exuberant goal celebration may have been Roger Milla dancing with a corner flag at the 1990 World Cup. Cameroon illuminated that tournament and Milla scored enough goals to have partnered each corner flag in turn. He was, incidentally, the oldest footballer to score a goal at the World Cup finals at the time, but nobody spoke of dad-dancing then. And Peter Crouch’s robot was 16 years in the future.

But celebrations are becoming more and more reprehensible. Anything involving hand shapes or messages on undershirts should be outlawed, with the exception of Owen Farrell’s ‘JJ salute’ in which Farrell is promoting a charity. What Gareth Bales’s heart, Ellen White’s goggles or others (including the Mobot) are promoting is anybody’s guess. Joy unconfined?

VAR often takes an age to come to a borderline decision. That is clearly not what the procedure was intended for, and is one of the many valid objections to it. But if it takes the ‘spontaneity’ out of goal celebrations, would that be a bad thing?